2.5 stars out of 5
And so, the pandemic-delayed movie we’d waited the longest for: Daniel Craig’s last hurrah as 007. Back in 2020, we had Craig’s turn as an SNL host (and the resultant meme), and Billie Eilish’s Bond theme. But then… a quantum of silence for 18 months. Talk about building anticipation! Was it worth the wait? The Broccoli bunch truly tried to give us the world in this installment. Yet sometimes the world is not enough.
When Daniel Craig arrived as James Bond in 2006 (007 would’ve made more sense, but whatevs), it was the jolt of fresh blood the series needed. Bond films were never really bad, but the franchise had become paint-by-the-numbers, outpaced by Jason Bourne in the action-spy arms race. Casino Royale was a tougher, darker Bond, and it worked. And worked again, and again. And then… well, I enjoyed much of Spectre, but it definitely came off the rails.
Could they get things back on track for Craig’s Swann song? Certainly not by hiring True Detective’s Cary Jojo “Diminishing Returns” Fukunaga to co-write and direct. He continues the previous films’ grimness. But when you live by darkness, you die another day by darkness. And this is pretty dour Bond. Which drags a lot, and is stupidly long (2 hours, 43 minutes, sheesh). Admittedly, when 007 gets his first action sequence (with returning Dr. Swann, Léa Seydoux, in tow), it’s textbook thrilling Bond, including a fully-loaded Aston Martin. So, I was initially on board. But as the plot carried on, becoming increasingly convoluted, I realized I had no idea what was going on. And even more importantly, wasn’t enjoying myself a whole lot.
They do tick off the Bond checklist: shaken not stirred; Bond James Bond; a new Bond girl. Ana de Armas is indeed an absolute knockout, and impresses mightily in her big fight scene. Yet just when we want to see, er, more of her, she’s gone. It’s like Fukunaga felt, ok, you’ve had your fun, now back to the dreariness.
It’s nice to see our old friends M, and Moneypenny, and an oil painting of Dame Judi Dench, and Q, who’s revealed as gay, hooray. (More inclusion: With Bond believed dead at film’s start, the 007 agent number has been reassigned to… a black woman. Take that, patriarchy!)
Rami Malek is here as the baddie and I thought, “Ooh, that’ll be good,” but he gets very little to do and doesn’t give it much oomph.
Then there’s just some clumsy, lazy filmmaking. There’s a Silence of the Lambs rip. And, no spoilers, but a character totally inexplicably escapes. And also Bond, who has shown no traces of Roger Moore wit during the lighter parts of the film, waits until things are getting really heavy before firing off two corny one-liners. Read the room, pal!
Dear Bond producers: I think a major problem here was trying to make the Craig 007s a continuing story. Plots just piled up on top of each other and this time for sure, there weren’t talented enough filmmakers to interweave it all (and edit, for godsakes). I was genuinely saddened back when they announced that this would be Daniel Craig’s final film as Bond. But now I’m quite glad. The series could definitely use a fresh start, a dash of fun, and a stand-alone plot. From Jack, with love.
Jack Silbert, curator