Eva Green is surprisingly lovely as the tragic figure Vesper Lynd, a woman whose love for James eventually draws a major turning point in the spy's career, and one that capstones such a vast history. Mads Mikkelsen also drives humanity into his character of Le Chiffre, downplaying former camp in Bond villains and relying on a common terrorist persona. Jeffrey Wright and Judi Dench allow for some quaint comic relief, as CIA agent Felix Leiter and M respectively.

Action fans, look no further. The best scenes of the year are stuffed within the film's 2 hour and 20 minute frame - choreographed with some grace and tension (quite the combination) that it'll blow you away. These never feel like the Bond stunts you've seen before. There's a tinge of something funky fresh in every jump, kick, and pull of the trigger that 007 makes. Director Campbell even manages to make watching a poker tournament as thrilling as it possibly can. It is Casino's dingy, dark undertones that lead to a new dimension of Bond. Le Chiffre has a bit of frightening torture that'll leave some audience members clenching themselves, and even some heavier violence than earlier films. But moreover, what makes this 21st installment so damned interesting, is how Bond's vulnerability is tested. For once (maybe since Live and Let Die, or so I really remember), the world's greatest spy drops his own blood on the job. This is not only a testament from the producers to expose a down-in-the-dirt hero, but one that finally argues that James Bond is only human.

Casino Royale is dark and downright incredible. I was stunned and moved by its ability to rotate a series' point of view so abruptly, and have such gleaming results. But no matter what year it is, what trouble our world is in, there's always solace to find within him - who's last lines Craig repeats with determination - he's Bond. James Bond.