Spectre: Unexpected, Unspectacular Bond.

Movie Review: Spectre

Director: Sam Mendes

Reviewed: Started 31 December 2015; Finished 21 July 2016.

jamesintexas rating--**

Regrettably, Spectre is minor Bond, a true let-down after the magnificence and electricity of Skyfall. Sam Mendes opens the film with a memorable long take in Mexico City, complete with skeleton masks, a Day of the Dead parade, and high-octane action with buildings crumbling and helicopters diving, but the film never sustains that initial burst of power. Daniel Craig is back as Bond in his fourth and probably last appearance (the ending seems like a good-bye, particularly), and despite his intense physicality and some gorgeous scenery, the film fails because of its structure and its decision to take the character to a place that feels inauthentic. The film's denouement violates the tenets of the character of James Bond, but that is Mendes's (and Craig's) right as artists to do so. I just think there is no way that Ian Fleming's James Bond does what he does in the last frames of this film.

Bond receives a message from beyond the grave in which M orders him to investigate a criminal which leads him to unexpected places. Moneypenny (Naomie Harris) produce a  burned photograph from Bond's childhood, and an octopus ring leads to a shadowy underworld organization in Italy. A late-night street race through the old city is a highlight, as does a spooky meeting of the criminals that calls back the Connery films. A clinic in the Alps introduces the mysterious Dr. Madeleine Swann (Lea Seydoux), and various fighting and sleuthing leads them to Tangiers and a train ride into the desert and into the desert lair of the enemy.

There, the ghost-like villain Hans Oberhauser (Christoph Waltz) appears more than an hour into the film, and after announcing his plans for world domination that involve filming and listening in on all the major security systems of the world, the film marches predictably to its conclusion. Lea Seydoux's character as written does not suggest to me the seismic shift that she causes in Bond, and she shrinks, in my opinion, to the deep crater left in James Bond by Vesper Lynd (Eva Green) of Casino Royale. Mendes attempts to have the four Craig films tie together into one overarching conspiracy culminating with Oberhauser, the self-proclaimed "architect of all [Bond's] pain."

Yet, declaring something is different than effectively building a world where the pieces fit and an overarching narrative does not just feel retrofitted. There are four writers, three people credited with story, and, of course, Ian Fleming, behind this project. I just sigh and wonder what it would be like for the James Bond character to get more of a vision instead of a decision by corporate committee. I think in my heart I was hoping for a darker film.

I am disappointed that Oberhauser's announcement of who he is and why he is fails to intrigue or satisfy. Mendes did such deft work in referencing the deaths of Bonds parents and the fall of M in the previous film that it was unexpected to see him stumble here with Oberhauser. Especially with an actor of Christoph Waltz's stature. Waltz brought such unforgettable malevolence to the role of Hans Landa in Inglorious Basterds; I wish that he were that level of character here instead of a strange bird, wearing shoes without socks. And Ralph Fiennes, a revelation in The Grand Budapest Hotel, seems to shrink here in the diminished role of M. Naomie Harris and Ben Whishaw are fine here as Moneypenny and Q, and it is nice to see some of the work around the edges (a view into James Bond's sparse apartment).

The filmmakers made choices at the end that simply did not work for me. If I am ranking the four Daniel Craig films, I would put Casino Royale and Skyfall as tied for best, and this one above Quantum of Solace. I just do not know what this film was trying to do.

From Scotland With Shotguns

Movie Review: Skyfall

Director: Sam Mendes

Reviewed: 23 November 2012

jamesintexas rating--****

As a scholar of both the James Bond novels and films, the psychology of Commander James Bond of Her Majesty's Secret Service has always been of interest to me.  Audiences may have fallen in love with the witty repartee between Bond and Moneypenny or the dazzling displays of innovation from Q Branch or even the cackling laughter of a villain who should kill Bond instead of talking to him.  But me?  I fell in love with the character.  The haunted killer.  The company man.  With a license to kill.  With his pained background and avoidance of close relationships and a ruthless consumption of alcohol and cigarettes and women.  Bond for me was marked by trauma and guilt.  The losing of first love Vesper Lynd, used against him by an unseen enemy.  The holding of the body of his beloved wife Traci, killed on their honeymoon.  The clutching of broken friend Felix Leiter, brutalized by sharks at the whim of a madman.  James Bond is a haunted man, one seeking the solace of a cigarette or a martini in a lonely hotel room with danger lurking nearby.

James Bond never existed for me as an immortal action hero.  James Bond could always die, and his recognizable emotions of rage, bravado, grief, and insouciance are what I search the series for, always hoping that the interiority of the spy will be given as much attention as the gadgets, tropical locales, and underground lairs.  Ian Fleming's writing delves into the psychology of the man, shading him.  Very few Bond films have delved into the man himself.  "GoldenEye" had its quiet moments, as did the fantastic and bloody "Licence To Kill," with Bond as a true avenger who carves out a bloody path to reach the  man who slaughters a friend's wife on her wedding day.  Bond's vendetta and its brutality echoes his grappling with his own traumatic past in the excellent "On Her Majesty's Secret Service" where Bond falls in love and marries, albeit briefly.  I am also a fan of Bond under pressure, facing imminent death and fighting back, not always quipping and smirking, so "From Russia With Love," "Goldfinger," and moments from "For Your Eyes Only" resonate with me.  The last film begins with a Bond at Traci's grave though it proves to be a momentary respite from the usual plot machinations.  My point is that Bond is a man with flaws and pain, and the best Bond films and stories consider him such.  I reject his invincibility and immortality.  James Bond is a man who can die.  A man who can bleed.  A man with demons.

In "GoldenEye," best-friend-turned-enemy Alec Trevelyan pointedly asks Bond, "I might as well ask you if all those vodka martinis ever silence the screams of all the men you've killed... or if you find forgiveness in the arms of all those willing women for all the dead ones you failed to protect." Bond's former friend deconstructs a coping mechanism of alcohol and sex, a drowning of regret that orders Bond's behavior.  That same film introduces the modern M (Judi Dench) as a bureaucrat who calls Bond "a sexist, misogynist dinosaur, a relic of the Cold War" and announces to him in that same film "If you think for one moment I don't have the balls to send a man out to die, your instincts are dead wrong," a sentiment put to the test in the bang-bang motorcycle rooftop turned train chase outside of Istanbul that opens "Skyfall."  M's decisions to protect an encrypted list of embedded spy names thrust the film into the dazzling title credit sequence, a swirl of underworld imagery, with Bond being sucked into a whirlpool that dissolves into a skull, a cemetery with an open grave, Chinese red dragons swirling about, and shattering mirrors featuring Bond shooting himself.  Post credit sequence set to the incomparable Adele theme song, Mendes then cuts to M, and this film centers itself on her.  She is the Bond girl in this film, facing an imminent forced retirement from Gareth Mallory (Ralph Fiennes) as well as an oversight board for her running of MI-6.  M is seen drinking a lot in this film, and Trevelyan's words from Dench's first film regarding drinking to silence the screams could be directed at her.  Her words and actions put her agents in mortal danger, and culpability is hers.  "Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown," the Bard wrote in "Henry IV, Part 2," and M struggles to relinquish hers until the job is done.

Bond returns to action after a mission gone awry with a bullet in his shoulder and grudge against M.
He returns to a subterranean M1-6 as a result of a terrorist attack on the headquarters itself.  In the tunnels underneath London, M reevaluates Bond and sends him off to China to retrieve the stolen list.  The hunt leads to a shimmering assassination sequence in a Shang-Hai skyscraper with the complex interplay of light and shadow as well as a spooky scene in a Macau casino, all reds and yellows and Komodo dragons.  Bond is shown entering the mouth of the dragon that marks the casino's front (he might as well be crossing over the river Styx with his coin for Charon), and Mendes's film embraces this image: Bond entering death, Bond entering his own past.  Komodo dragons swirl underneath the steps of Bond as he meanders into more and more trouble.  Another ship to an abandoned island.  A bad guy awaits, over one hour into the film, and Javier Bardem delivers a provocative performance filled with verve and fun, as well as pathos.  Bardem is given three powerful entrances as villain (one a long extended monologue as he approaches a captive Bond, one a Hannibal Lecter-style incarceration, and one announced by an Animals cover of John Lee Hooker's "Boom Boom" as he steps off a helicopter-ride of death, automatic weapon in hand, revenge on his mind).  Bardem proves capable in all three sequences, a lethal Byronic hero who implores M to "Think of your sins" as well as proves a mirror to Bond.  Silva's tortured past implicates M, and he serves as a reminder of her own guilty conscience.  Silva is what Bond could become and also a tie back to Alec Trevelyan.  Silva is the collateral damage of the actions of both MI-6 and M.

"Skyfall" delivers a Bond film of impressive emotional heft.  Mendes has won the Academy Award for directing (and Bardem and Dench, both for acting) and seems as interested in the visual palette of the film (tunnels, abandonment, archways) as he is in letting his small cast dig into the material.  Bond is seen literally hanging on by his fingertips multiple times in the films, and in nods to "Vertigo" is seen endlessly pursuing, always heading downhill.  A shoot-out in an MI-6 hearing room is terrifying.  Overhead shots of Bond and M driving evoke the dread of the beginning of Kubrick's "The Shining," and flourishes in the score touch upon Spielberg's best films.  Mendes seems content to move patiently with his story, understanding that the upper echelon Bond films take their time.

The staging of the final thirty minutes of the film in Scotland at Bond's ancestral home is quite possibly the most exciting Bond action sequence ever put to film.  The less said about it, the better.  Dench is strong here, as is the supporting cast of Fiennes, Naomie Harris, Rory Kinnear, Ben Whishaw, and the great Albert Finney.  There is a sufficient amount of wry humor in the film, ably delivered by Craig; Silva asks Bond his hobby, and Bond spits out, "Resurrection."

Mendes has resurrected the character and the series from the depths of "Quantum of Solace," a nonsensical, muddled  step backwards from the character-driven "Casino Royale."  He has resurrected the notion of a Bond song being a smash hit, something entering the pop culture beyond Bond.  He has resurrected the conceit that Bond the man is infinitely more interesting than Bond the visual effect.  Pierce Brosnan left the series several years back in "Die Another Day" with an invisible car and hang-gliding while a laser sliced an iceberg behind him.  Craig and Dench have, with help from director Martin Campbell and now Sam Mendes, grounded the Bond series in a man, a man who was a child once, wounded and vulnerable by his parents' death.  Bond is a man gripping by his fingertips, yet able to pull himself up.  Bond is haunted, yet capable and confident, able to stand on a train track and ignore the approaching train.  Bond is a lone warrior, staring out from the rooftops at the end, in a nod to the recent "Batman" series, always on guard.

"Skyfall" is about the changing of the guard with the Bond series in many ways, and I am proud to place it alongside "From Russia With Love," "Goldfinger," "On Her Majesty's Secret Service," and "License To Kill" as a masterpiece.

Four stars, my highest rating.