Right. Hereâs my review of the new Bond film, Skyfall.
First, the short spoiler-free version.
Awesome.
What? You want more? Hmm. Keeping it spoiler-free:
The best Bond in the best Bond film, bar none.
Seriously? Thatâs not enough? Right. You asked for it. Warning, spoilers abound within.
*flexes fingers*
I was serious about the best Bond. I fully admit that I was nervous when I heard that Daniel Craig was going to be Bond, but within 30 seconds of Casino Royale starting, I was sold. By the time we hit the opening credits I knew we were in safe hands.
I *loved* Casino Royale, by the way. More of that another day. I even quite liked Quantum of Solace, though mainly due to Craigâs Bond.
(Iâve had several discussions with people over the âbestâ Bond. Connery is the popular choice here, though I have a huge soft spot for the Moore era, as that was the Bond I grew up with. Lazenby is highly underrated and Dalton could have done so much better with a half-decent script. I loved Brosnan’s Bond, though not his Bond movies which were sub-par at best. Yes, even GoldenEye. And the least said about the invisible Aston the better. I mean, who on earth wants an invisible Aston Martin? Theyâre bloody gorgeous!)
Ahem. Where was I? Oh yes, Skyfall.
It was with a little trepidation that I sat down to watch Skyfall. Were we going to get another Casino Royale? Or another Quantum of Solace-esque mishmash of confused plot?
Again, within 30 seconds of Skyfall starting, I breathed a sigh of relief.The old gun barrel opening wasnât there, but the way Bond appears, stealthily down a darkened passage only to pop into focus in an artfully placed shaft of light?
Bond is back. Properly back. The pre-title sequence is breathtaking, starting with a car chase, then bikes, bikes on rooftops, bikes on trains, diggers! On trains! Piling one thing on top of another, pressure upon pressure, just the way a good  Bond sequence should.
Then that wonderful beat, that glorious split second where Bond jumps down from the digger (on a train!) as the back is ripped away from the carriage. Bond stands as the carriage behind him falls away and, cool and calm as only Bond could be, straightens his shirt cuffs.
I’ll say it again: Bond is back. Properly, properly back.
Thereâs the theme tune. After Casino Royaleâs âYou Know My Nameâ by Chris Cornell (which I still rate as a decent Bond tune, though realise that I’m firmly in the minority here) and Quantum of Solaceâs theme, which I really dislike with a passion, we get a full-blown Bassey-esque belter, courtesy of Adele.
This is a proper Bond tune, for our proper Bond. One which you can still hum days later. Big, brassy and bold. Utterly splendid, it wouldnât feel out of place in any of the earlier Bond movies. Easily in my top 5. But that’s for another post, another day.
As for the film itself, it fairly rattles along at a marvellous pace, gleefully referencing Bond movies across the seriesâ 50 years. We get the classic Aston DB5, complete with gadgets, guns and gizmos. We get Bond escaping from mortal peril by runnning across the backs of komodo dragons, a nice little nod to Live and Let Dieâs alligator farm. We get the Moore-esque comedy one-liner as Bond jumps on to the back of a speeding tube train. Brilliant little pieces which are scattered throughout the film like chocolate chunks in a particularly tasty ice cream.
In Javier Bardemâs Silva we get one of the best villains the series has seen for a very long time. Forget card-playing terrorist bankers. Forget media moguls trying to sell newspapers (if only I could). From his entrance in slowly descending Rocky Horror-esque lift, delivering a beautifullly paced monologue (what is it with villains and monologues?) as he slowly walked towards the camera, you just know Bond is in for a bit of a rough time. This is a villain with an actual honest to goodness reason for doing what he’s doing.
That moment where Silva toys with Bond, hand opening his immaculate white shirt, stroking Bondâs chest affectionately gives us one of Bondâs best lines:
âwhat makes you think this is my first time?â
He is an Eton old boy, after all…
Silva has one thing on his mind though, and itâs not Bond. The movie is all about M. M loses the NOC list – sorry, wrong spy franchise – and Bond has to get it back. Itâs why Bond comes back from the dead. âMummy dearestâ M is in trouble, so Bond drags himself out of his Heineken-soaked retirement to save the day. M finally gets the part she deserves in this, along with some brilliant one liners of her own. I loved the âwell, youâre not bloody staying hereâ to Bond after his reappearance in her house.
On an aside, that was one thing which struck me – Silva goes through quite an elaborate series of Proper Villian shenanigans and plots to get to M, whilst Bond waltzes into her house, past lord knows how many alarm systems on a fairly regular basis. He hacks into her computer with a kind of bored ease, something the ubergenius computer hacker Silva appears to struggle with.
Oh, the hacking bits. Love. Especially the moment where Ben Whishawâs delightful Q realises that Silva has hacked MI6 because heâs been numpty enough to plug Silvaâs laptop into the network. Muppet.
I love that Q is back, drinking Earl Grey from his Q scrabble mug. Please, please let us keep him. And theyâve avoided another excruciating turn from John Cleese. Q has another nod to the franchise history with his lovely âwhat did you expect, an exploding pen? We donât really go in for that any moreâ. Marvellous stuff.
Skyfall is packed with glorious cinematography – the night time neon-lit sniper action in Shanghai is absolutely gorgeous, as are the Scottish highlands (though itâd take some effort to make them look bad). And I loved that the bulk of the film is set around the UK. Well, London and Scotland at least. Bond struggling through the rush hour tube was fun to watch.
As for the Bond girls, weâve got Eve (the lovely Naomie Harris), who turns out to be more than expected and Severine and of course, M. Can we say Oedipal complex, boys and girls?
Severine was the trickiest of the lot – Bond sizes her up as being a former child prostitute and product of the sex trade, then goes right ahead and shags her anyway. Heartless swine that he is. Then thereâs a moment soon after where Silva forces Bond to try and shoot a glass of whisky placed on Severineâs head, with what appears to be a flintlock of some description. The inevitable happens (though at Silvaâs hand as Bond refuses to play Silvaâs game), and Bond turns to deliver the line âwaste of bloody good scotchâ. Shocking and callous at first glance. But there was a beat, a fraction of a second where you can see in Bondâs eyes that Severineâs death hit him.
But this is the new Bond, hardened by the death of Vesper in Casino Royale, armour fully in place.
I could go on, but this is getting ridiculously long as it is. Silva is a magnificent Bond villain, and the only one from the series that comes to mind who actually gets what he wants, in the end. A brave move by the writers.
Ralph Fiennes taking over as M at the end of the film feels in a way like itâs the series saying âRight. Weâve cleared the decks. Bond has been set up. Q is here, as is Moneypenny. The old M is gone, the last remnant of the former series. Time for a new story.â
Where will they go next? I can almost see them going back to Doctor No – itâd be fascinating to see Craig and his new, realist, battered, bloodied Bond take on some of the classic Fleming stories.
Have you seen Skyfall? What did you think? Is Craigâs Bond the best Bond ever? Is Skyfall? I would love to know what you think.
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