So the next James Bond film will be called Quantum of Solace, its title drawn from an obscure short story by Ian Fleming. That sound you hear is a barrel being scraped; a producer's spoon digging around for one last crumb of comfort, portion of sympathy, or bulk of alleviation. Anything to preserve the tenuous connection between the Bond of today and the author who spawned him.
Naturally we must never judge a book by its cover or a film by its title, but please. Quantum of Solace is horrible. It makes no sense and it sounds like blancmange (too many soft consonants, not enough sharp edges). It's also sure to pose a problem for whatever sad sack gets lumbered with the theme song. I can't think of anything that rhymes with solace - apart from Wallace. Perhaps the film will team Bond with a bumbling claymation puppet, or have him uncover the roots of a 1930s royal conspiracy, or transport him back in time to confront a segregationist southern governor. Time will tell.
(Come to think of it, Time Will Tell would make a neat Bond title, in that it strikes the right, coyly enigmatic note.)
Quick research on the source material leaves us none the wiser. According to Wikipedia, Quantum of Solace was originally published in Cosmopolitan magazine and relegates 007 to a bit-part player. The tale, it adds, "has Bond attending a boring dinner party in Nassau". Sounds good, huh?
Of course the Bond producers have long made a habit of playing fast and loose with Fleming's original stories - which in this case is surely for the best. What's inexplicable is why they insist on remaining so faithful when it comes to his titles. Presumably the next three 007 outings will be called Risico, The Hildebrand Rarity and The Property of a Lady (the only names remaining).
