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Casino Royale (2006)

TL;DR: Casino Royale (2006) rates 10 out of 10 on the rewatch scale. Casino Royale is the film that saved James Bond. After an invisible car and a CGI surfing scene, the series went back to Ian Fleming’s first novel and made Bond a person again: arrogant, reckless, newly licensed to kill and still learning the job. Daniel Craig is superb, Eva Green’s Vesper Lynd is the best woman in the series, and the poker game is as tense as any chase.
Casino Royale (2006)
10 / 10

The Film That Saved Bond

Casino Royale is the film that saved James Bond. Four years earlier, Die Another Day had given Bond an invisible car, a villain who changed his race with gene therapy and a computer-generated surfing sequence, and the series had nowhere left to go. The producers stopped, threw out almost everything, and went back to the beginning: Ian Fleming’s first novel, published in 1953, about a young agent, a card game and a woman who betrays him.

Martin Campbell directed it, the same man who had rebooted the series once before with GoldenEye in 1995. Neal Purvis, Robert Wade and Paul Haggis wrote it. It came out in November 2006, made more than six hundred million dollars, and sits beside Skyfall at the top of the whole series. It’s a 10.

Black and White

The film opens in Prague, in grainy black and white. Bond walks into the office of a traitorous section chief and waits for him in the dark. They talk. Intercut with the conversation is a flashback to Bond’s first kill: a contact in a filthy public bathroom, a brutal, clumsy, desperate fight that ends with Bond drowning the man in a sink.

Two kills earn a double-0 status, the section chief explains, and Bond has only made one. Then Bond shoots him, and the famous gun barrel sequence arrives at the end of the scene instead of the start, with the dying man in the frame. The series had never opened this way, and in four minutes it announced exactly what kind of Bond this was going to be.

It’s a bold way to open a Bond film, and it tells you immediately that the rules have changed. There’s no quip, no gadget and no glamor. Just a young man learning what killing feels like, and deciding he can live with it.

For Writers

The opening shows Bond’s first two kills, one clean and one desperate, and the gun barrel arrives at the end of the scene. In four minutes the film tells you who this Bond is.

When you write an opening, the most effective ones don’t explain a character. They show a single action that defines them.

Write your opening around one choice your character makes that no one else in the story would make. Let the reader draw the conclusion without help. My piece on opening pages that hook readers digs into this.

The Craig Controversy

Before the film came out, Daniel Craig was the most mocked Bond casting in history. He was too short, too blond, too rough, not handsome enough, and he couldn’t drive a manual car, according to a gleeful press. A website campaigned against him, and fans promised to boycott the film.

The film made the campaign look ridiculous inside a week. Craig’s Bond is physical, cold and very good at violence, and he isn’t the finished article yet. He’s arrogant, careless and too pleased with himself, and the film’s story is how he becomes the man we already know. By the end, Craig owned the role, and the critics who’d mocked him were calling him the best Bond since Connery.

Craig also did a remarkable amount of his own physical work, and you can see it. When he runs, falls and fights, you believe it’s him, and you believe it hurts. That physical honesty set the tone for his whole run.

Madagascar

The first big set piece is a chase through a construction site in Madagascar. Bond is following a bomb-maker played by Sébastien Foucan, one of the founders of free running, and Foucan moves across the site like water, up a crane, along girders, through gaps no human should fit, leaping between cranes a hundred feet up.

Bond follows by brute force: through walls, on a bulldozer, straight across the gaps Foucan danced over. It’s the whole character contrast of the film in four minutes, grace against bloody-minded determination. It ends with Bond storming into an embassy, shooting his target in front of the cameras and causing a diplomatic incident. M is furious. We’re thrilled.

Miami Airport

The trail leads to Le Chiffre, a banker who invests terrorists’ money, and his plan to short the stock of an airline manufacturer and then blow up its new prototype airliner at Miami airport. Bond stops the bomber on the runway in a long, cleverly staged sequence built around a runaway fuel tanker careering across the airfield and a fight on the moving truck.

Le Chiffre loses a fortune of his clients’ money, and he needs to win it back before they kill him. That’s what sends everyone to Montenegro, and it’s a smart piece of plotting: the villain is desperate, not triumphant, and his desperation drives the rest of the film.

Vesper Lynd

On the train to Montenegro, Bond meets Vesper Lynd, the Treasury agent sent to watch the money, and the two of them size each other up across a dinner table. She reads him perfectly: his school, his background, his chip on the shoulder, his need to prove himself. He reads her just as well. The scene is written and played like the best screwball comedy, and it’s the moment the film tells you this relationship matters.

Eva Green is extraordinary. Vesper is clever, guarded and damaged, and she’s the only woman in the series who is Bond’s equal in every scene. Their love story is real, and the film takes its time with it, so the ending hurts.

Their banter on the train is the best-written exchange in any Bond film, sharp, funny and full of mutual suspicion. Each of them sees straight through the other, and neither can resist showing it.

For Writers

Bond and Vesper read each other across the dinner table on the train. The scene sets up their whole relationship in a few minutes of sharp dialogue.

When you write a meeting between two important characters, polite small talk wastes the scene. The strongest first meetings are contests.

Have your two characters try to work each other out in their first scene, and let each land at least one accurate observation that stings.

The Poker Game

The middle of the film is a high-stakes game of Texas hold ’em at the casino in Montenegro. Le Chiffre needs to win back his clients’ money, and Bond, staked by the Treasury, needs to beat him so that Le Chiffre has to turn to the British government for protection.

It shouldn’t work. Poker isn’t visual, and the game runs across a large part of the film. Campbell makes it riveting. Bond loses a fortune, is poisoned with a spiked martini, nearly dies in his car using a defibrillator, and walks back to the table. When the Treasury won’t give him more money, Jeffrey Wright’s Felix Leiter stakes him. The final hand is as tense as any action scene in the series.

The switch from the novel’s baccarat to Texas hold ’em was a smart piece of updating. The poker boom was at its height in 2006, and audiences understood the game well enough to follow every bluff and every big hand.

The Vesper Martini

At the table, Bond orders a martini and dictates the recipe: three measures of gin, one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet, shaken, with a thin slice of lemon peel. Then he names it after Vesper.

It’s straight from Fleming, and it’s one of the film’s quiet moments of character. This Bond is inventing himself, and we’re watching him do it. Later, asked whether he wants his martini shaken or stirred, he snaps that he doesn’t care. The trademarks of the character are arriving one at a time, each for a reason, and each one costs him something.

For Writers

The martini, the name and the indifference to shaken or stirred each arrive during the story, and each one is earned. The trademarks are shown being born.

When you write an origin story, readers already know the character’s famous traits. The interest lies in seeing where each one comes from.

List your character’s signature habits, and give each one a scene where it first appears, tied to something that happens to them in the story.

Mikkelsen’s Le Chiffre

Mads Mikkelsen gives the series its most human villain in decades. Le Chiffre is a gifted mathematician who has lost other people’s money and is running out of time to get it back. He has a scarred eye that weeps blood and an asthma inhaler he uses at the table, and he’s frightened. That makes him more dangerous.

The scene where his clients visit his hotel room with a machete, and threaten to take his girlfriend’s arm, shows exactly how precarious his position is. He isn’t trying to rule the world. He’s trying to survive the week. That makes him easier to believe than almost any Bond villain before him.

Mikkelsen plays him with a stillness that makes the small gestures matter: the inhaler, the flicker of fear when his clients appear, the tiny smile when he thinks he’s won. It’s a villain built from details, and he became a star internationally on the strength of it.

The Chair

Le Chiffre captures Bond, strips him, ties him to a chair with the seat cut out, and beats him with a knotted rope. It comes straight from Fleming’s novel, and it’s the most famous scene in the film, partly for its brutality and partly because Bond, in agony, laughs at him and mocks him throughout.

It was more brutal than anything the series had shown before, and it told audiences that the reboot meant it. It also shows us the thing that makes Craig’s Bond work: his refusal to give an inch, even when he has nothing left.

The scene works because Craig makes Bond’s defiance feel like a choice, something more than bravado. He’s in agony, and he’s laughing at the man hurting him, because laughing is the only weapon he has left, and he knows it drives Le Chiffre mad.

Venice

The ending takes place in Venice, where Vesper’s betrayal is revealed and a house under renovation collapses into the Grand Canal. Vesper is trapped in a sinking lift cage, and Bond tries to reach her. She chooses to drown.

Afterward, Bond calls M and says a cold line about her that comes straight from Fleming’s last page. It’s the moment he becomes the Bond we know. Then comes the final scene, at a villa on Lake Como, where Bond finds the man behind everything, shoots him in the leg and finally introduces himself by his full name as the theme plays for the first time. It’s the best ending of any Bond film.

Where the Story Went Next

Casino Royale was the start of a single story that ran across Daniel Craig’s five films. Quantum of Solace, released two years later, picks up about an hour after the final scene, with Mr. White in the boot of Bond’s car, and follows Bond’s search for the organization behind Vesper’s betrayal.

That organization, Quantum, was later folded into SPECTRE, and the thread of Vesper’s death runs all the way to No Time to Die in 2021, where Bond visits her grave in Italy before his own story ends. No earlier Bond had a continuous arc, a beginning, middle and end, and Casino Royale is where it began.

It also changed what audiences expected from the series. After this film, Bond could grieve, fail, bleed and die, and the films that followed took those possibilities seriously. That shift started with a card game in Montenegro and a woman in a sinking lift.

Watched in order, the five Craig films form a single long story about a man who is damaged by love early and spends the rest of his career refusing to risk it again. Casino Royale is the foundation of all of it, and the later films lean on it constantly.

What Casino Royale Gets Right

The producers made one brave decision: they let the film be about how Bond became Bond. The quips, the martini, the name and the coldness all arrive during the story, and each one is earned through loss. The result is a film that works for someone who has never seen a Bond, and one that recharges every older film for anyone who has.

Chris Cornell’s You Know My Name plays over titles built from playing cards, and Quantum of Solace followed as a direct sequel two years later. Skyfall is the only other Bond I’d rate as highly.

Craft Note

Craft Note

Casino Royale builds its hero instead of presenting him finished. Bond starts arrogant and careless, and the story is what turns him into the cold agent the audience already knows.

When you write an origin, the reader often knows the destination. The interest is in the cost of getting there, not in the fact of arriving.

List the traits your character has at the end, then give each one a scene in which it’s earned through a loss. If a trait has no scene, write one.

The Verdict on Casino Royale

Yes. It’s a 10, and with Skyfall it’s the best of the Bond films. If you’ve only ever seen the older ones, start here to see what the character can be, then watch Skyfall to see where he ends up.

Frequently Asked Questions

Who directed Casino Royale (2006)?
Martin Campbell, who had rebooted the series once before with GoldenEye in 1995. Neal Purvis, Robert Wade and Paul Haggis wrote the screenplay, based on Ian Fleming’s 1953 novel, the first Bond book. Campbell’s gift for clear, physical action and his willingness to slow down for character made it the most successful reboot the series has had.
Is Casino Royale Daniel Craig’s first Bond film?
Yes. It was his debut and a full reboot of the series, showing Bond at the start of his double-0 career. The casting was widely mocked before release, and the finished film silenced almost every critic. Craig went on to play Bond in five films, ending with No Time to Die in 2021, and many consider him the best since Connery.
Who plays Vesper Lynd in Casino Royale?
Eva Green plays Vesper Lynd, the Treasury agent sent to supervise the money for the poker game. She’s clever, guarded and Bond’s equal in every scene, and their relationship is the emotional heart of the film. Her betrayal and death in Venice are what turn Bond into the cold agent of the later films. Many fans rank her as the best Bond heroine.
Who is the villain in Casino Royale?
Le Chiffre, played by Mads Mikkelsen, a banker who invests terrorists’ money. After his plan to profit from a bombing at Miami airport is foiled, he loses his clients’ fortune and tries to win it back at a high-stakes poker game in Montenegro. His desperation, weeping eye and asthma make him one of the most human villains in the series.
Is Casino Royale based on the book?
Yes, and far more closely than most Bond films follow their sources. The card game, Le Chiffre, Vesper Lynd, the torture scene with the chair and the final cold line about Vesper all come from Fleming’s 1953 novel. The film adds the Madagascar and Miami sequences and changes the game from baccarat to Texas hold ’em.
What card game is played in Casino Royale?
Texas hold ’em poker. In Fleming’s novel and the earlier 1967 spoof, the game was baccarat, but the filmmakers switched to Texas hold ’em. It was enjoying a boom in popularity at the time and gave audiences a game they could follow. The final hand is among the most tense scenes in the series.
Is Casino Royale (2006) worth watching?
Yes. It sits beside Skyfall at the top of the series, with a rawer, more human Bond, a real love story, a thrilling opening chase and a poker game as gripping as any action sequence. It’s also the best place to start for anyone new to the series, because it begins at the beginning and explains how Bond became Bond.

This film appears on 3 of my film lists

About the Author
Richard Lowe, professional ghostwriter

Richard Lowe is a professional ghostwriter and author with 113+ books authored and 54+ ghostwritten. Before writing full time he spent 33 years in enterprise technology, including 20 years as Director of Computer Operations and Technical Services at Trader Joe's. He writes nonfiction, fiction and memoir, and works with executives and experts on books that build authority.

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Disclaimer

The views and opinions expressed in this blog post are solely those of Richard Lowe and are based on personal experience and research. This content is for informational purposes only and should not be construed as professional legal, financial, accounting, or business advice. Always consult with qualified professionals before making important business or legal decisions. Richard Lowe is not a lawyer, accountant, or licensed professional advisor, and this content does not establish any professional relationship.