Immediately after Daniel Craig hit the screen as James Bond in Casino Royale, 007 fan sites (including some that had previously called him an unsuitable choice — too short, too blond, too uncouth, and, inaccurately, unable to drive stick) began suggesting that Craig had pulled ahead of Sean Connery to become the Best Bond Ever.
A still more startling opinion has also gained ground: Namely, that with barely twelve seconds' worth of screen time in the Nassau surf in Casino Royale, Craig unseated Ursula Andress for the Most Notorious Bathing Suit Scene in Franchise History. The aftershocks of this coup could be felt from Kennebunkport to Saint-Tropez the past two summers. For better or worse, the snug Daniel Craig look crowded the beaches, and sales of powder-blue La Perla swimming trunks experienced a sudden surge, surpassing even those of the lime-green Borat thong.
But given Craig's résumé — a career, prior to Bond, that was long on risky (though frequently shirtless) roles in British independent films — it's not surprising to learn that the ripped and brutish beach look he unveiled 30 minutes into Casino Royale was, in fact, an artistic choice. He inherited a personal trainer, Simon Waterson, a former commando in the Royal Navy, along with the role, and Craig immediately told him, "I want to get chunky for this. I want this guy to look like the uniform's just come off. Like he's literally just stepped out of a war zone." According to Waterson, his new client wished to appear as if he "could kill people just by looking at them." Of course, some of this added bulk was practical. Craig wanted to be fit enough to absorb the daily battering the role required. But much of the newfound mass was an immediate tip-off to Craig's conception of the character. Other Bonds may have aimed for lithe and suave. "But I hit the ground," the actor told me, "like a sack of spuds."
The morning we spoke, in London's Soho Hotel, Craig did indeed look somewhat tuberous. Two nights before, he'd marked the completion of filming Quantum of Solace — his sophomore Bond effort — with what he described as a "bit of a party." Thirty-six hours later, his eyes, the same glacial blue in person as they appear on film, were still rimmed with red. He was impeccably dressed — free clothes being one of the chief perks of the publicity campaign — but he'd put them together in a style you might call randy widower: jeans, a claret-colored silk shirt, black cardigan, and brown-suede boots. The form-fitting attire showed off a noticeably slimmer silhouette — another choice. "Because I went for shape and size for the last film, I wasn't heart-fit," Craig said, taking a sip of water. "So that's what I did on this one. I just wanted to survive the movie."
By all accounts, he deserved his celebration. During the filming, there'd been talk of a Macbeth-like curse: A stuntman drove an Aston Martin into Lake Garda, a technician in the crew was apparently stabbed by a woman he met at a bar, and Craig had to have eight stitches on his face and lopped off a fingertip shooting one action scene or another. Even without the calamities, a Bond shoot is a frequent-flier nightmare, with several units working all over the globe (for this outing, multiple locations in Chile, Panama, Austria, Mexico, England, and Italy). Craig responds by setting a monastic pace: up at five; in makeup by six; on set at sevenish for an early run-through and then ten or twelve hours of shooting; ending the day with an hour or so in the gym, followed by a quick stunt practice, a very light dinner, and lights out by nine-thirty or ten. "That's the way he works," Michael Wilson, a Bond producer who has witnessed the spectacle, says. "I've never known an actor to be that focused."
