What a terrific 007 that dashing young Daniel Craig makes. If you're prepared to ignore the mousy hair and FA Cup ears, that is.
I trundled down to our Granville Megaplex (2 screens) last night, hoping not to be the last person on the planet to see Casino Royale. I wasn't disappointed, as it appeared that the vast majority of the pit bull-tugging, smelly socks brigade hadn't seen it either. Although it rather shattered the dramatic illusion when some charmless oik bawled out during the obligatory love scene: "GO ON SON, STICK YOUR TONGUE IN."
Bit of a shame, too, that John Cleese's splendid 'Q' has been replaced by a Mr Sony, with Viagro laptops and Sony Ericsson mobiles in virtually every shot. In fact there was so much product placement that, not content with just plastering Virgin Atlantic all over the screen, they had to crowbar Sir Richard Branston into the film as well.
Still, having watched Bondie get his danglers tenderised with a knotted hawser, I was well prepared for the short walk home, during which I was accosted by another band of track-suiters with the cheery salutation: "GEEZER! GEEEEZER! GO' ANY RIZLAAARS?!?!"
Oh well, if you can't beat them, join them. I'm off to get my Brosnan pierced.