Director Sam Mendes nostalgically marks James Bond’s 50th anniversary with a typically measured piece of work that is very enjoyable but which never quite matches the heights of Casino Royale.
The thrilling opening sequence in Turkey sees Daniel Craig’s 007 implacably pursue a man who has stolen a hard-drive containing the identities of NATO agents undercover in terrorist organisations. Unfortunately the pursuit ends disastrously courtesy of the bungled intervention of his back-up agent Eve (Naomie Harris), carrying out M’s ruthless orders. Judi’s Dench M is being threatened with retirement by new Security Chairman Mallory (Ralph Fiennes) over this blunder but Bond, now a broken man (he has a beard…) and champion of a Turkish drinking game involving scorpions, only returns when MI6 HQ explodes. Bond returns to a rattled agency, hiding in Churchill’s old war bunker, and with a ridiculously young new Quartermaster (Ben Whishaw), who trades barbed insults with Bond and then equips him with the needful to get back out into the field, where there’s always terrible wear and tear. Bond’s search for the stolen list of agents leads him to the sultry Severine (Berenice Lim Marlohe) and her sinister employer, super-hacker Silva (Javier Bardem)…
When reviewing the pointlessly maligned Quantum of Solace I held out the hope that the ideas surrounding Quantum might lead to a Bond 2.0 film even better than Casino Royale. Well, sadly Quantum and Felix Leiter are absent from this movie, but one idea from Quantum, that M and Bond have almost a fraught mother/son bond, has been amplified and given a dramatic counterpoint to power this film’s twisting plot. Oddly this feels at times like a Nolan Bond not a Mendes Bond. Mendes has drafted in some regulars: Thomas Newman replaces David Arnold but fails to make much impact; indeed dramatic strings during the Tube sequence are uncannily like Arnold’s motif for similar sequences on Sherlock. Roger Deakins though gives the mirrors motif of the title credits dazzling life in the Shanghai sequence which is all reflective glass, and blue and green neon, while the night-time Macau sequence is just gorgeously staged in warm oranges. But the crumbling city where Silva has his lair screams Inception, a plot twist is a familiar gambit from The Dark Knight, and Rises echoes in the constant references to Bond being a physical wreck, and the persistent questioning of why this rich orphan continues to risk his life.
The deliberately measured pace of the movie is pure Mendes and he even produces a trademark move with Silva’s entrance, a slow push-in while Silva walks towards the camera from a distance. For the most part this approach works, the first act feels like one of Fleming’s short stories, and the belated entrance of Silva pays off in some wonderfully discomforting dialogue scenes and a huge shock. Even Silva as cyber-supervillain works, mostly due to Q’s rivalry with Silva. But then along comes the third act… Mendes throws everything at the screen; the full Bond guitar riff, Aston Martins, references to and borrowings from Goldfinger, Apocalypse Now, and From Russia with Love. But while it’s fascinating in exploring Bond’s past, and ends fittingly with some in-joke references, the climactic action just lacks the forcefulness or epic scale of Casino Royale and even Quantum.
Skyfall is a good film, which runs out of steam somewhat, but it does seem to prove that action directors handling sharp scripts make for the best Bond films.
3.5/5
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