Idea (ang.)

“One thing Q would never admit: he quite liked those spicy, over-the-top stories. Bond was an insufferable egotist with a habit of shooting people in the face. Reluctant to drag them to court or, God forbid, sit them down for tea and a chat. But at least he lived life to the fullest.” (Vaseem Khan – Q. A Particle of Fear)

I don’t like Mr. Fleming’s Bond books.

Sure, Fleming was a respected author. His style can feel a bit archaic at times, and his books are rich in detail, with a psychological weight to them. They’re darker, more brutal than the early films, and Bond is portrayed as a “tool” who hates his job. Still, I never quite connected. His words don’t flow in my rhythm—they tire me.

And the films? Mostly, I don’t care for them either.

Older Bonds (Moore, some of Connery) knowingly embraced absurd, campy fun, with gadgets, impossible chases, and a tongue-in-cheek tone.

But the older the films—or maybe the older I get—the harder they are to watch. Logic holes, technical mistakes, over-the-top stylization—they all hit harder now.

Craig—okay.

In Casino Royale, he gave me hope for a real Bond: a man who lives, bleeds, and has mastered falling—both literally and figuratively—with a sardonic detachment.

But Skyfall and Spectre, despite their praise for psychological depth and character development, don’t grip me as a whole. Maybe they’re just too long.

Maybe on purpose—so the popcorn math, calculated by some complicated formula, comes out right.

And No Time to Die… well, you know, there’s no unseeing that.

Still, I like Bond. I like “Bond” as an idea.

A man aware that even if he’s a mistake, its life will be short.

And yet, he does what needs doing.

Someone who has found balance amid values.

I’m aware the series has always been commercial, promoting luxury. In Craig’s era, product placement is even more invasive. Its commercial nature has been baked in for decades. It annoys me when it’s just a cheap cash grab.

Yes, we’re being nudged to buy Omegas, Astons, Tom Fords, and other cleverly presented gadgets—but look deeper, if you care to—and you see something more.

Strip away the fancy packaging (hard to do these days, when most care only about the wrapper), and you see someone who holds principles and sticks to them, even when they aren’t trendy, popular, or easy.

The world is sliding into relativism. Anything can be justified—even the worst crimes can be dressed as “for the greater good,” stupidity defended with semantics, attacks on another country framed as self-defense.

When lawyers stop defending rights and start using them for gain, politicians have sticky fingers, soldiers are just meat on the field, and 2+2 no longer equals 4 for everyone—you start to see how necessary “Bond” really is.

Someone who does what must be done—above the whims of fashion.

Who, guided by a natural moral compass, delivers justice without regard for group interests.

Who, in a world of soft men and soy lattes, takes responsibility for pulling the trigger.

And although sweatpants are more comfortable, he does it with class.

“Beneath that smooth, spy-ish exterior was a man whom Q, against all odds, began to admire. There was something noble in him. Unyielding in his old-fashioned adherence to values that seemed to vanish faster with each passing day. His existence proved that even in times of greed and corruption, there are people who believe in something larger than themselves. In good. In decency. In doing the right thing, even when the lines aren’t always clear.” (Vaseem Khan – Q. A Particle of Fear)