I have absolutely no qualms in calling Casino Royale the greatest Bond film ever made, and while some are bound to object, it remains that this franchise-changing instalment is an absolute masterclass in action film making, and by remodeling 007 as a destructive animal in Daniel Craig, the film has its ideal Bond - a Bond who will go through a wall when his enemy scales it; a Bond who will drown a man in a sink and look in the mirror while he's doing so; a Bond who will choke a henchman to death while his shoes scratch leather on the floor during the struggle; a Bond who doesn't give a damn how is Vodka Martini is made. Everything about Royale works, making it the most complete entry to date: the monochrome opening sequence, which sees Bond collect his first two kills in order to attain his deadly licence; the parkour chase, which parallels Bond's brute force with his assailant's lithe grace; the central, 45 minute poker game, a ballsy centrepiece for a Bond film but one brilliantly paced and executed, interspersed with moments of action to ensure the film keeps it thrilling momentum; Eva Green as perhaps Bond's greatest ever love-interest, an actual character and one who just happens to look immaculate in that dress; Mads Mikkelsen as Le Chiffre, a Bond villain for the ages; the set-piece in the crumbling Venetian house, which ultimately leads to Green's Vesper Lynd's death, bringing about one of the most harrowing moments in the franchise as Bond desperately tries to revive her. Then there's the last shot. Throughout the whole film there's been only the odd thrum of the classic Bond score, and Craig is yet to utter his immortal line. Then, standing over the man he has just shot in the leg, we see Bond in a low angle shot that looks up to see him, see him tailored to perfection, smiling, machine gun in hand. Then he says it, and the orchestra swells to the familiar sounds of the Bond theme tune as the credits roll. It's the perfect ending.