Quantum of Solace Teaches Us That the Greatest Evil Shops at Men’s Wearhouse
David Harbour's turn as a mid-career bureaucrat is the most terrifying thing about this 2008 James Bond movie.
Gregory Beam has all the panache of an old ham sandwich. His suits fit poorly, frumpy and rumpled on the shoulders. He is often inconveniently drunk. And he wears striped ties with striped shirts, which is fine if you’re at a parent-teacher conference, but not if you’re the CIA’s section chief for South America.
In the 2008 Bond film Quantum of Solace, Gregory Beam sticks out like a sore thumb amid a sea of tailored tuxedos and beautiful assassins. And yet, this LinkedIn profile with a strip mall haircut is inexplicably in charge.
While he’s not technically the movie’s villain, Gregory Beam (as played delightfully by David Harbour early in his career) represents Daniel Craig’s greatest threat to remaining alive and handsome in the film. In doing so, Beam is an outlier in how Bond movies think about the world and who they believe can be convincingly dangerous to James Bond and his mission.
Because, as Quantum of Solace shows, it’s not the mad scientists and megalomaniacs who are likely to put Bond in the dirt. It’s the pencil pushers that you really have to worry about.
The Call is Coming From Inside the House
In most James Bond movies, diabolical plots for world domination are always safely removed from the political structures and leaders of the moment. For instance, in Diamonds are Forever, Blofeld announces that he will hold the world hostage with his diamond-encrusted space laser. Upon hearing that they're being extorted for whatever sum equaled an obscene amount of money in 1971, a room full of world leaders slam their hands and shout and really make a ruckus of themselves. They do this because they are good, decent leaders representing a solid, upstanding world.
Even the Russians get to play in the "we're the good guys" sandbox once in a while. There is always a clear line between “us” and “them” -- they are the nongovernmental, nonreligious, ethnically ambiguous terrorists trying to rule the world with an iron fist, and we and our leaders stand for peace, self-determinism, ice cream and attractive people having pool parties.
But Quantum argues that there is no more us versus them. No longer do reclusive billionaires threaten to topple civilization with an army of minions dressed in matching jumpsuits. Now, they're well known and well connected philanthropists, and their minions have traded in their jumpsuits for Men's Wearhouse blazers and the resume of a mid-career bureaucrat.
The Strangeness of “International Well Dressed Super Spy” Being a Career
In Quantum, Beam is the patsy to Mathieu Amalric’s Dominic Greene, who is part of a secret cabal aiming to stage a coup in Bolivia. They have reasons why, but it’s a Bond movie, so they don’t really make sense. Anywho.
What makes Beam so interesting is that he hasn’t so much been corrupted by Greene but rather already agrees with everything Greene is doing. In a scene with Felix Leiter, Beam makes the case that right and wrong don’t matter – it’s just what’s best for his business.
“Yeah, you’re right, we should just deal with nice people,” Beam flippantly tells Leiter. “I need to know you’re on the team, Felix. I need to know that you value your career.”
YOUR CAREER. Who on earth has a career in a Bond movie? These are super spies. They are saving the world and fighting dudes while dangling from helicopters. They’re basically Batman. And yet, Beam is talking to Leiter as if he’s in a performance review.
It feels so far afield from the usual zingers that a minion fires off, and yet so much more damaging. YOUR CAREER. Ooooof. It feels like eating at an airport Arby’s.
As a note, Leiter, as played by Jeffrey Wright, spends most of this movie looking cool and shooting death stares at people. It’s a great performance. Leiter is the living embodiment of going on a work trip when heavy drinking occurs. Bless him.
Does James Bond file expense reports? We’ll never know.
There’s a lot to unpack in Quantum of Solace. There’s a hotel that’s DESIGNED to explode, a nice lady getting covered in oil, and a lot of walking around in the desert. But it all hinges on a character who’s more concerned about maxing out his travel per diem at whatever constitutes a TGI Friday’s in Bolivia than heroism or villainy.
While Casino Royale brought Bond back to earth, Quantum of Solace took the idea of a grounded James Bond having to exist in the real world to its logical endpoint. After this, Bond is back to his unlimited, globetrotting self, unencumbered by the mechanics of modern life and fighting villains that can topple governments with space lasers.
But for a minute, the bean counters had him. And at least in Quantum, it felt plausible.