Very Small Comfort

Quantum of Solace, the latest in the James Bond oeuvre, is most certainly playing at a theater near you.
Solace is nowhere to be found in the evening's entertainment. It's rather grim, and, while Daniel Craig is fine as the none-too-pretty modern version of the formerly suave spy, the angst-ridden 007 is no fun to be around. Thereby lies the problem with the new Bond flicks, a problem inadvertently pointed out by my youngest son.
During one of the many blistering action sequences, this scene one of the hand to hand fighting variety, Joey mentioned it was like a Bourne movie. Aha! The light went on. What's been sticking in my craw (Not claw, craw!) is that the two recent Bond films are Bond in name only. Like it or lump it, and there are plenty of lumps to go around, the James Bond character is handsome, witty, constantly bedding beautiful women, and, if the occasional wife is shot in the head (On Her Majesty's Secret Service), so be it. He might think about it now and then, but there's really too much to do to dwell on the past.
The Craig Bond movies are loads of fun, dizzily action-packed (there's always a danger of Pokemon-induced convulsions for the viewer), well-acted and superbly written. But they could be Bourne movies or any character for that matter.