One of the best Bond films ever made.

Rating: 10/10 (2 November 2012)

I have long been a fan of the James Bond franchise. I was brought up with the Pierce Brosnan Bond movies. The first one I ever saw was Goldeneye, from that moment I was hooked. But his movies got worse as they went on, being a Bond fan I liked them all, but I had to admit they were getting worse. This culminated with Die Another Day. It was at this stage a reboot was needed. I was wary of Craig at first, I didn't think he would cut it as Bond. I really liked Casino Royale but I felt it was a tad overrated. Maybe it's because I wasn't used to this more darker human Bond. Quantum of Solace was a step down from Casino Roayle, and I felt this could be the end of Craig's Bond. I was wary that the critics were overselling Skyfall, and that it would be not as good as they said. I am happy to report, I was totally wrong.
Skyfall is in my opinion one of the very best Bond films ever made, arguably the best. A blistering pre-credits sequence, in which Daniel Craig destroys half of Istanbul in a quest to recover sensitive information from an enemy operative, initially suggests Bond is back on track after the stuttering blip that was Quantum Of Solace. No sooner are we settled though, when James is shot in error by one of his own (Naomie Harris), plunging from the roof of a moving train into the opening title filled with skulls, tombstones and other totems of death.
Bond survives, of course – he always does. But when he comes back to life he is far from his best, Craig's unshaven chops and bloodshot eyes betraying a man whose heart isn't in it (if it ever was).It doesn't help that Judi Dench's M also looks set for the scrap heap, or that the new Q (Ben Whishaw) is a techno-nerd barely half his age. ("You still have spots!" sneers Bond contemptuously during their first encounter in the National Gallery.) Put through his paces after some Mediterranean down- time involving scorpion-baiting drinking games and post-shag Heineken, 007 can hardly manage a chin-up before collapsing in a heap. He can't even dangle from the undercarriage of an ascending elevator without wincing in discomfort. If Casino Royale was Bond finding his footing, Skyfall is him remembering where he left it - a clever turnaround made all the more effective by giving 007 an adversary who, for much of the film, is crossing the finish line while Jimmy's putting on his trainers. With his shock of blond hair, dodgy dentistry and vengeful M fixation, Javier Bardem's Silva is that rarest of creations: a cyber-terrorist who genuinely terrifies. But he also has a playful side; witness the literally thigh-rubbing glee he brings to one stand-out interrogation scene. It's far from the only sexually charged moment, cue a steamy shower clinch with Bérénice Marlohe's femme fatale Sévérine, plus some saucy banter with Harris' Eve that positively fizzes with winking innuendo. But in line with Craig's summer assignment at Buckingham Palace, the real Bond girl is of a more seasoned vintage: Dame Judi herself, here evolving from 007's testy taskmistress into a surrogate mother he will kill to protect. The casting of Dench was always a master-stroke, but it has taken seven outings, and one Oscar-winning filmmaker, for her to be exploited properly. Mendes' ambitions, though commendable, don't always fit the material. The Bond series has lasted half a century without referencing Shakespeare, Tennyson and JMW Turner, so why shoehorn them in now? Thankfully they don't interfere with the standard Bondian trappings, Skyfall boasting all the glamour, excitement and exoticism we have come to expect and then some. A floating Macau casino, complete with firework display and komodo dragons, supplies a perfect setting for cocktails, fisticuffs and Live And Let Die in-jokes, while Bardem's hide-out - a deserted island full of crumbling masonry and broken statues - has all the grandeur of Blofeld's volcano with none of the impracticality.
A splendid mid-section in London, meanwhile, spurns the city's overexposed architecture for a chase beneath its surface, Bond pursuing Silva via sewer, tunnel and Tube while still finding time to crack the odd funny. Indeed, for all its intimations of mortality and harping on obsolescence, Skyfall is more often than not a hoot, Craig having the confidence at last to lace his Bond's killer instinct with a bone-dry wit and wry nonchalance. The scene where he contemplates utilising one of the series' oldest and most famous gizmos is a perfectly judged grace note, while an appearance from Albert Finney near the end of the picture exudes warmth and good humour. It all adds up to the 007 adventure we've been waiting for: a flawlessly assembled thrill ride with a cast to die for and a nakedly emotional undertow. Happy birthday, Mr Bond. Here's to another 50 years.