James Bond 007 is Gone? Impossible!

                                Daniel Craig as James Bond, barfly loser                                     

Daniel Craig won't play Bond again? Prop him up at the bar and tell him to do his bit for Britain

The 007 star says he’s feeling jaded by the role. Doesn’t he realise that makes him ideal for the character?

While up and coming James Bond film Specter has made a really decent clench hand of concealing its mysteries from the general population up to this point, the creation hasn't been totally watertight. We know, for occurrence, that Christoph Waltz is liable to play Blofeld. We realize that the signature melody sounds like a rollerskating witch attempting to kick a weasel up a cobbled slope. We realize that Specter will contain no less than one expanded grouping where James Bond will utilize his glossy new Sony Experia Z3 cell telephone to take a gander at photographs of the Heineken logo, conceivably while squirting himself with that ropey-looking 007 facial cleanser that individuals purchase their fathers for Christmas and mumbling, "Mmm, smelly."

What's more, now, if Daniel Craig's late meeting style is anything to pass by, we realize that Bond is going to look knackered. He's going to look world-endingly knackered in Specter, and when Lea Seydoux definitely endeavors to lure him, he'll react by murmuring, "Goodness, what's the ridiculous point?" and straying to watch Match of the Day in his jeans.

The confirmation? Asked for this present week by Time Out in the event that he could envision making another James Bond film after Specter, Craig answered: "I'd rather break this glass and cut my wrists." Shortly thereafter, he announced that on the off chance that he did repeat his part, it'd absolutely be for the cash. PT Barnum he ain't.

You think, on the other hand, that this methodology may really be an issue of nationality. At the point when the determinedly, exhaustingly American Tom Cruise was tasked with advancing Mission: Impossible 3, for instance, he significantly conveyed New York to a stop by making a trip to the debut in an irregular parade that incorporated a motorbike, speedboat, taxi, helicopter, sports auto and metro train. In the mean time, Craig has chosen to offer the spin-off of a billion-dollar worldwide blockbuster by undermining to purposely harm himself on the off chance that he's ever constructed to do it again.

It's an exceedingly British thing to do. One envisions that, on this premise, Craig's normal successor ought to without a doubt be Robert Pattinson, the British on-screen character who reacted to the mass of youthful madness that welcomed his part as Spangly Vampire No 1 in Twilight by destroying the film at every conceivable turn, notwithstanding venturing to wander that the source material was "a book that shouldn't have been distributed". In the event that Pattinson isn't up to the errand, maybe Jamie Dornan is in with a shot, subsequent to the most noteworthy thing he said in regards to Fifty Shades of Gray was: "I fear I'll get killed, similar to John Lennon, by one of those frantic fans at the debut."

Presently, clearly, there's a risk Craig's remarks have been confounded. It's conceivable he was basically attempting to be diverting about the rebuffing level of exertion that goes into delivering a film, for example, Specter, and implying that the considered garnish such a happily exciting display has abandoned him innovatively scared.

Be that as it may, how about we want to think not. How about we trust that the weights of playing Bond have truly got to Craig and that this aggregate indifference has some way or another meant the screen. Since, truly, Bond ought to be unendingly on the precarious edge of suicide. He's a dipsomaniac, past-his-prime killer who has never known enduring affection, is prone to be loaded with all way of STDs, infrequently begins crying uncontrollably in the shower and holds fast to an expert clothing regulation so madly formal that you petition God for him to one day find the delights of a Slanket. By rights, each and every 007 film ought to open with him drooped over a Betfred counter at 10am with another person's vomit ground into his trousers. Practically, his catchphrase ought to be: "Breakfast. Wetherspoons breakfast."

That is the James Bond we need to see. Also, we ought to need Daniel Craig to play him, straight up until the minute he exhibits the scarcest glint of eagerness for the part. At that point he's out. Since that just wouldn't be British.