Casino Royale (2006 film)

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The name's Bond. James Bond.
I'm sorry. That last hand... nearly killed me.
You know, I never understood all these elaborate tortures. It's the simplest thing to cause more pain than a man can possibly endure.
Christ, I miss the Cold War!
Well, I understand 00's have a very short life expectancy, so your mistake will be short-lived.
You think of women as disposable pleasures rather than meaningful pursuits. So, as charming as you are, Mr. Bond, I will be keeping my eye on our government's money and off your perfectly formed arse.
Any thug can kill. I want you to take your ego out of the equation, and to judge the situation dispassionately.
Do I look like I give a damn?
Now the whole world's gonna know that you died scratching my balls!
You do what I do long enough, there won't be any soul left to salvage.
Discover how James... became Bond.

Casino Royale is a 2006 film in which, after earning 00 status and a license to kill, Secret Agent James Bond sets out on his first mission as 007. Bond must defeat a private banker funding terrorists in a high-stakes game of poker at Casino Royale, Montenegro.

Directed by Martin Campbell. Written by Ian Fleming (novel); Neal Purvis, Robert Wade and Paul Haggis (screenplay), based on the novel by Ian Fleming.
Always Bet On Bond taglines

James Bond

  • [Bond returns to his seat in a game of poker after being poisoned] I'm sorry. That last hand... nearly killed me.

Le Chiffre

  • You know, I never understood all these elaborate tortures. It's the simplest thing to cause more pain than a man can possibly endure. And of course, it's not only the immediate agony, but the knowledge that if you do not yield soon enough, there will be little left to identify you as a man. The only question remains: will you yield, in time?


  • Who the hell do they think they are? I report to the Prime Minister, and even he's smart enough not to ask me what we do. Have you ever seen such a bunch of self-righteous, arse-covering prigs? They don't care what we do, they care what we get photographed doing. And how the hell could Bond be so stupid? I give him 00 status, and he celebrates by shooting up an embassy. Is the man deranged? And where the hell is he? In the old days, if an agent did something that embarrassing, he'd have the good sense to defect. Christ, I miss the Cold War!

Vesper Lynd

  • [Stepping into a lift] Take the next one. There isn't enough space for me and your ego.
  • [Last lines] I'm sorry, James. [The lift she is in falls into water and she drowns.]


[first lines]
Bond: M really doesn't mind you earning a little money on the side, Dryden. She'd just prefer if it weren't selling secrets.
Dryden: If the theatrics are supposed to scare me, you have the wrong man, Bond. If M was so sure I was bent, she'd have sent a 00. Benefits of being Section Chief. I'd know of anyone being promoted to 00 status, wouldn't I? Your file shows no kills. And it takes--
Bond: Two.
Dryden: [pulls his gun on Bond; smiles] Shame. We barely got to know each other. [pulls the trigger, but nothing happens.]
Bond: [holds up the gun's magazine] I know where you keep your gun. I suppose that's something.
Dryden: True. How did he die?
Bond: Your contact? Not well.
Dryden: Made you feel it, did he? needn't worry. The second is--
[Bond draws his gun and shoots him dead]
Bond: Yes. Considerably.

Steven Obanno: Do you believe in God, Mr. Le Chiffre?
Le Chiffre: No. I believe in a reasonable rate of return.

[M comes home to find Bond waiting for her]
M: You've got a bloody cheek.
Bond: Sorry. I'll shoot the camera first next time.
M: Or yourself. You stormed into an embassy. You violated the only absolutely inviolate rule of international relationships, and why? So you could kill a nobody. We wanted to question him, not to kill him! [Angrily throws down a newspaper headlined MI6 KILLS UNARMED PRISONER onto a table in front of Bond] For God's sake, you're supposed to display some kind of judgment.
Bond: I did. I thought one less bomb maker in the world would be a good thing.
M: Exactly. One bomb maker. We're trying to figure out how an entire network of terrorist groups is financed and you give us one bomb maker. Hardly the big picture, wouldn't you say? The man isn't even a true believer; he's a gun for hire. And thanks to your overdeveloped trigger finger, we have no idea who hired him, or why. And how the hell did you find out where I lived?
Bond: Same way I found out your name. I thought "M" was a randomly assigned letter. I had no idea it stood for--
M: [interrupts Bond] Utter one more syllable, and I'll have you killed. [Bond remains silent in agreement] I knew it was too early to promote you.
Bond: Well, I understand 00's have a very short life expectancy, so your mistake will be short-lived.
M: Bond, this may be too much for a blunt instrument to understand, but arrogance and self-awareness seldom go hand-in-hand.
Bond: So you want me to be half monk, half hit-man?
M: Any thug can kill. I want you to take your ego out of the equation, and to judge the situation dispassionately. I need to know that I can trust you, and that you know who to trust...and since I don't know that, I need you out of my sight. Go and stick your head in the sand somewhere and think about your future, because these bastards want your head. And I'm seriously considering feeding you to them. [Bond heads for the elevator] And Bond...don't ever break into my house again.
Bond: Ma'am.

Villiers: [calling M up in the middle of the night] He's in the Bahamas.
M: You woke me to share his holiday plans?
Villiers: He's logged into our secure website, using your name and password.
M: How the hell does he know these things?

[Vesper Lynd sits opposite James Bond on the train to Montenegro]
Vesper Lynd: I'm the money.
James Bond: Every penny of it.
[Vesper hands him her business card]
Vesper: The Treasury has agreed to stake you in the game.
Bond: [reading the card] Vesper? I do hope you gave your parents hell for that.

Vesper: So, you're telling me it's a matter of probability and odds? I was worried there wasn't chance involved.
Bond: Well, only if you assume the player with the best hand wins.
Vesper: So there will be what you call bluffing?
'Bond: [smiles] You've heard the term? [Vesper smiles back] Then you'll know that in poker you never play your play the man across from you.
Vesper: And you're good at reading people?
Bond: Yes I am. Which is why I've been able to detect an undercurrent of sarcasm in your voice.
Vesper: I'm now assured our money is in good hands.
Bond: You don't think this is a very good plan, do you?
Vesper: So there is a plan? I got the impression we were risking millions of dollars and hundreds of lives on a game of luck. What else can you surmise, Mr. Bond?
Bond: About you, Miss Lynd? Well, your beauty's a problem. You worry you won't be taken seriously.
Vesper: Which one can say of any attractive woman with half a brain.
Bond: True, but this one overcompensates by wearing slightly masculine clothing. Being more aggressive than her female colleagues. Which gives her a somewhat prickly demeanor, and ironically enough, makes it less likely for her to be accepted and promoted by her male superiors, who mistake her insecurities for arrogance. Now, I'd have normally gone with "only child," but, umm, you see, by the way you ignored the quip about your parents…I'm going to have to go with "orphan."
[Long pause]
Vesper: All right…by the cut of your suit, you went to Oxford or wherever. Naturally you think human beings dress like that. But you wear it with such disdain, my guess is you didn't come from money, and your school friends never let you forget it. Which means that you were at that school by the grace of someone else's charity; hence that chip on your shoulder. And since your first thought about me ran to "orphan," that's what I'd say you are.
[Bond smiles]
Vesper: Oh, you are? I like this poker thing. And that makes perfect sense! Since MI6 looks for maladjusted young men, who give little thought to sacrificing others in order to protect queen and country. You know… former SAS types with easy smiles and expensive watches. [she glances at his wrist] Rolex?
Bond: Omega.
Vesper: Beautiful. Now, having just met you, I wouldn't go as far as calling you a cold-hearted bastard…
Bond: No, of course not.
Vesper: But it wouldn't be a stretch to imagine. You think of women as disposable pleasures rather than meaningful pursuits. So, as charming as you are, Mr. Bond, I will be keeping my eye on our government's money and off your perfectly formed arse.
Bond: [smiles ironically] You noticed.
Vesper: Even accountants have imagination. How was your lamb?
Bond: Skewered. One sympathises.
Vesper: Good evening, Mr. Bond.
Bond: Good evening, Miss Lynd.

[Bond and Vesper read up on their cover identities, "Arlington Beech" and "Stephanie Broadchest"]
Bond: We've been involved for quite a long while, hence the shared suite.
Vesper: But my family is strict Roman Catholic, so for appearance's sake, it'll be a two-bedroom suite.
Bond: [sarcastically] I do hate it when religion comes between us.
Vesper: Religion and a locked door. Am I going to have a problem with you, Bond?
Bond: Don't worry. You're not my type.
Vesper: Smart?
Bond: Single.

[Bond brings in a beautiful purple dress and hangs it on the bathroom door]
Vesper: Something you expect me to wear?
Bond: When you walk in and kiss me wearing that, the other players will be thinking of your neckline rather than their cards. Do you think you could do that for me?
Vesper: [sarcastically] I'll do my best.
Bond: Thank you.
[Bond walks out of the bathroom and notices a dinner jacket lying on his bed. He walks back into the bathroom, holding the dinner jacket]
Bond: I have a dinner jacket.
Vesper: There are dinner jackets and dinner jackets; this is the latter. And I need you looking like a man who belongs at that table.
Bond: How?… It's tailored.
Vesper: I sized you up the moment we met.

[A bartender comes to the poker table to take drink orders.]
Bond: Dry martini.
Bartender: Oui, monsieur.
Bond: Wait. Three measures of Gordon's, one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet. Shake it over ice and add a thin slice of lemon peel.
Bartender: Yes, sir.
Tomelli: You know, I'll have one of those.
Infante: So will I.
Bartender: Yes, sir.
Felix Leiter: My friend, bring me one as well. Keep the fruit.
Le Chiffre: [annoyed] That's it? Hmm? Anyone want to play poker now?
Leiter: Someone's in a hurry.

Le Chiffre: You've changed your shirt, Mr. Bond. I hope our little game isn't causing you to perspire.
Bond: A little. But I won't consider myself to be really in trouble until I start weeping blood.

Bond: Vodka martini.
Bartender: Shaken or stirred?
Bond: Do I look like I give a damn?

[Leiter stops Bond on his way to killing Le Chiffre]
Leiter: I should have introduced myself, seeing as we're related. Felix Leiter, a brother from Langley. [sees the knife in Bond's hand] You should have faith. As long as you keep your head about you, I think you have him.
Bond: Had. Excuse me.
Leiter: You're not buying in?
Bond: No.
Leiter: Listen, I'm bleeding chips. I'm not going to last much longer. You have a better chance. I'll stake you. I'm saying I'll give you the money to keep going. Just one thing: you pull it off, the CIA bring him in.
Bond: What about the winnings?
Leiter: Does it look like we need the money?

[Bond sips his drink.]
Bond: You know, I think I'll call that a "Vesper."
Vesper Lynd: Because of the bitter aftertaste?
Bond: No. Because once you've tasted it, it's all you want to drink. [Vesper laughs] I thought it was a quite a good line.
Vesper: It was a very good line.
Bond: But you're laughing at it.
Vesper: Not so much it, as you.
Bond: [chuckles] Oh, well, that's fine, then. [pauses and looks at Vesper's necklace] I've figured out what that is. It's an Algerian Love Knot.
Vesper: Really? I just thought it was something pretty.
Bond: No you didn't. Someone gave that to you. [pause] He's a very lucky man.

Vesper Lynd: It doesn't bother you, killing those people?
Bond: I wouldn't be very good at my job if it did.
Vesper: I don't believe you. You've got a choice, you know. Just because you've done something doesn't mean you have to keep doing it.
Bond: Why is it that people who can't take advice always insist on giving it?
Vesper: You think I can't take my own advice?
Bond: I think something is driving you. And I don't think I'll ever find out what that is.

[Bond has been stripped naked, tied to a bottomless chair, and tortured with repeated lashes to the testicles from Le Chiffre's knotted rope in order to force him to reveal the password for the Swiss bank account.]
Le Chiffre: Miss Lynd will give me the account number, if she hasn't already, so all I need from you is the password.
[Bond glares icily at Le Chiffre.]
[sternly] The password, please.
Bond: [defiantly] I've got a little itch… down there. Would you mind?
[Le Chiffre whips Bond's testicles.]
Bond: [screams in agony] No! No! No! No…TO THE RIGHT, TO THE RIGHT, TO THE RIGHT!
Le Chiffre: You are a funny man, Mr. Bond. [lashes him again]
Bond: [screams in pain] Yes, yes, yes! [starts laughing maniacally] Now the whole world's gonna know that you died scratching my balls!
Le Chiffre: I died? I died?
Bond: Yes, because no matter what you do, I'm not going to give you the password, which means your clients are going to hunt you down and cut you into little pieces of meat while you're still breathing! Because if you kill me, there'll be nowhere left to hide.
Le Chiffre: Oh, but you are SO WRONG! Because even after I slaughter you and your little girlfriend, your people would still welcome me with open arms! Because they need what I know.
Bond: [resigned] The big picture.
[From the other room, Vesper screams - Bond and Le Chiffre notice it]
Le Chiffre: Yes. Now give me the password, and I will at least let her live. [slaps him on the cheek] Come on, Bond. Do it soon enough and she might even be in one piece.
[Bond starts laughing]
Le Chiffre: You're really not going to tell me, are you?
Bond: No.
[Le Chiffre knocks Bond on his back and brandishes a knife]
Le Chiffre: Then…I think I'll feed you what you seem not to value.
[Suddenly, two gunshots are heard and Mr. White charges into the room, pointing a gun at Le Chiffre]
Le Chiffre: I'll get the money. Tell them I'll get the money.
Mr. White: Money isn't as valuable to our organization as knowing who to trust. [Mr. White shoots Le Chiffre dead]

[At the Lake Como hospital, Vesper is sitting, smiling and looking at James who is asleep. He wakes up and smiles]

Bond: Hm. Hello.
Vesper: [softly] Hello.
Bond: You alright?
Vesper: I can't resist waking you. Every time I do, you look at me as if…you haven't seen me in years. Makes me feel reborn.
Bond: If you'd have just been born, wouldn't you be naked?
Vesper: You have me there. [whispers in his ear] You can have me anywhere.
[Bond touches her arm]
Bond: I can?
Vesper: Yeah. Here, there. Anywhere you like.
Bond: Does this mean that you're…warming to me?
Vesper: Yeah. That's how I would describe it.
Bond: It's just that not so long ago, I would have described your feelings towards me as, um…well, I'm trying to think of a better word than "loathing".
Vesper: I'm afraid I'm a complicated woman.
Bond: That is something to be afraid of.
[They are about to kiss, but Mr. Mendel runs up to them, carrying a silver briefcase]
Mendel: Hello!
Bond: Urgh, perfect timing.
Vesper: Oh - Monsieur Mendel. How are things in Switzerland?
Mendel: My apologies. I do not need to rush, but 120 million is a large sum of money.
Bond: It certainly is. You didn't bring any chocolates with you?
Mendel: I'm afraid not. [laughs] If you would type in the account number? [Vesper does so] And now the password.
Bond: You can do that.
Vesper: I would if I knew what it was.
Bond: V-E-S-P-E-R. [As he says more letters, Vesper realises, turns and smiles. She types the password]
Mendel: The funds have now been transferred. Sorry for disturbing you. Thank you. Auf Wiedersehen.
Bond: Auf Wiedersehen, Herr Mendel.
[Mendel leaves. Vesper looks upset and turns to face Bond]
Vesper: You know, James…I want you to know that if all that was left of you was your smile, and your little finger, you'd still be more of a man than anyone I've ever met.
Bond: That's because you know what I can do with my little finger.
Vesper: I have no idea.
Bond: But you're aching to find out.
Vesper: You're not going to let me in there, are you? You've got your armour back on. That's that.
Bond: I have no armour left. You've stripped it from me. Whatever is left of me… [Vesper puts her hand on his cheek] whatever is left of me, whatever I am…I'm yours.
[They kiss]

Vesper: Does everyone have a tell?
Bond: Yes. Everyone. Everyone except you. I wonder if that's why I love you.
Vesper: You love me?
Bond: Enough to float around the world with you until one of us has to find an honest job. Which I think is going to have to be you, because I have no idea what an honest job is.
Vesper: You're serious?
Bond: It's like you said. You do what I do long enough, there won't be any soul left to salvage. I'm leaving with what little I have left. Is that enough for you?
[Vesper kisses him]

[on the phone]
M: She had a boyfriend. A French Algerian. They were very much in love. He was kidnapped by the organisation behind Le Chiffre. And they blackmailed her, threatening to kill him unless she co-operated. We should have picked up on it, but sometimes we pay so much attention to our enemies, we forget to watch our friends. How are you doing?
Bond: She left her cell phone. She must have known I'd check it.
M: Hm, she knew you were you. [pause] Well, at least this clears Mathis.
Bond: No.
M: No?
Bond: No. It would have proved that she's guilty, not that he's innocent. It could have been a double-blind. Keep sweating him.
M: You don't trust anyone, do you, James?
Bond: No.
M: Then you've learnt your lesson. Get back as soon as you can. We need you.
Bond: Will do.
M: If you do need time…
Bond: Why should I need more time? The job's done, and the bitch is dead.
M: James? Did you ever ask yourself why you weren’t killed that night? Isn’t it obvious? She made a deal to spare your life in exchange for the money. I’m sure she hoped they would let her live. but she must have known she was going to her death. And now we’ll never know who was behind this, the trail’s gone cold.

[last lines of the film: Mr. White answers a call on his phone]
Mr. White: Hello?
Bond: Mr. White? We need to talk.
Mr. White: Who is this?
[White is suddenly shot in the leg, and drops to the ground screaming in pain. He drags himself toward the house, but he is stopped at the steps…and looks up to see Bond with Vesper's phone in his left hand and a Heckler & Koch UMP sub-machine gun in his right hand]
Bond: The name's Bond. James Bond.


  • Always Bet On Bond
  • Discover how James... became Bond.
  • A whisper of love. A whisper of hate.


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