12A, 144 mins

The stakes are high in Casino Royale. And it’s not only a poker-playing Bond who is risking hundreds of millions in this, his 21st official outing. The producers have decided that the time is right for their own personal gamble — a “reboot” of a franchise which, despite being dismissed by fans and critics alike as utter bilge for the past few outings, has consistently raked in generous box-office returns. The initial question from Bond fans — why fix what wasn’t, financially speaking, broken in the first place? — was rapidly superseded by another: Daniel Craig as Bond — what are they thinking?.

The immensely enjoyable Casino Royale answers its critics with an insouciant sneer and a self-confident swagger. The Craig naysayers are suddenly far less vocal as it becomes clear that the controversial casting is the best thing that’s happened to the franchise in years. Craig brings a brutally efficient physicality to the role and a thrilling undercurrent of sadistic cruelty — his is a Bond you feel gains real job satisfaction from his licence to kill.

In this back-to-basics episode of the Bond story, that licence has only recently been earned — we witness the two official hits necessary for 00 status in a grainy black-and-white pre-title sequence. The contemporary setting is explained by the term “reboot” rather than “remake” or “prequel”, although this is a selective reboot as it turns out. Casino Royale retains Judi Dench as M — her crisp, no-nonsense head-girl take on the role would have been a sad loss. And the director, Martin Campbell, has previous Bond experience as the man behind GoldenEye, the film that introduced Pierce Brosnan as Bond.

What’s new here, apart from the first Bond since Connery who looks as if he could do some serious damage, is the fact that this episode lets that damage show. Bond is battered and bruised. He makes catastrophic errors of judgment. His anger flares and he loses his cool — which ironically makes him cooler still. Crucially for the success of the story, Craig’s Bond is prepared to show his weakness in his dealings with a glamorous Treasury official, Vesper Lynd (a spirited Eva Green), who is bankrolling his efforts in a high-stakes poker match to bankrupt a terrorist financier. His unexpected tenderness with Vesper is disarming, his pugnacious prize-fighter’s face is suddenly naked in its vulnerability. We have Craig and, I suspect, Paul Haggis, the co-screenwriter, to thank for the most satisfying element of the film — the fact that Bond actually gets to develop as a person. He is older and wiser at the end of the film. For better or worse, he’s a changed man.

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