Bond wears a sweater

Rating: 3/10 (28 October 2015)

Make no mistake this is good ol' Bond by the numbers but in a totally unimaginative and contrived way. It's sad but inevitable that having taken the franchise some distance from the stale pre- Craig recipe, the writers appear to have drawn a blank with this disjointed snoozefest of a travel log. Growing up with the less serious and somewhat classier Bond titles I was nevertheless impressed with Craig's first outing in Casino Royale: a film which held true to Fleming's novel and which presented a more modern and meaningful interpretation of a now historic character. While Craig will never display the effortless masculinity of Connery he could clearly give a believable performance with a strong script and talented co-stars. Disregarding Quantum of Solace, the rot set in with Skyfall - a reboot of a reboot, Skyfall holds its own as a film which set Bond within the context of the IT age with tasteful nostalgia, a decent villain and some interesting locations, the urgency builds within that film and the acts tie together nicely; as a plus the public learns a little about Bond's history and as the ultimate finale we witness the demise of one of the franchise's major players adding to Bond's mosaic, hardened, epic and enduring persona. Where do we go from here? Craig and Mendes clearly don't know the answer and so what do we get? - a join the dots Bond for dummies: That would be okay if it was done well but it isn't and only serves to highlight how (sadly) Craig is not a good enough Bond to make worthwhile viewing in the absence of plot.
Craig is wooden, he walks up stairs like a girl and he has two or maybe three facial expressions, he just doesn't seem at all real, too worried to have any personality one way or another we just get flat flat flat, sure he must work out - he is a modern beefcake but he just doesn't have the innate charm, intelligence or sophistication of a proper Fleming Bond, his clothes look all wrong too: Bond would never bow down to modern trends and drainpipe suit trousers, again Bond should be effortless and Craig is too polished. Bond would also never say 'toilet' (just saying!). Not that Craig gives one jot what the jotters say, his pay cheque takes care of that; the Heineken, Omega and Persol deals ensure that in contrast to 2006 he can no longer risk getting the character wrong and we end up with bland Bond stuck in a bland plot with a bland villain and perhaps most disappointingly of all with Thomas Newman's bland score.
The nostalgia needed to end with Skyfall but to the point of annoyance Craig/Mendes couldn't resist ramming the references into almost every scene; as other reviewers have mentioned this becomes grinding and dull for true Bond fans while the less critical in the audience lap it up presumably as some sort of antidote to their cinematic insecurities. This is not a funny film: The dialogue was only a credit to its plot in its lack of ambition. There were four borrowed items that did deserve space in the film - the polo neck sweaters (Live and Let Die/OHMSS - they just suit Bond), the shoulder holster (classic Bond), the nato watch strap (Sean Connery) and the reboot of Barry's On Her Majesty's Secret Service soundtrack as appears in the trailer (the best soundtrack in the franchise), pleasingly the first three do appear, disappointingly shying away from classic Bond tones, the final one does not.
Reference to the plot merits little space in this review, suffice to say that there is little mention of it within the film; what we get is a series of disconnected set pieces none of which are held in original interesting locations and none of which are truly immersive save perhaps the celebrated opening scene. There is just nothing original about this film, anybody with a rudimentary understanding of Bond could have written the script in an afternoon otherwise spent watching youtube videos of White Persian cats (given more screen time than poor old Monica Bellucci). Waltz gives a forgettable performance as a one dimensional Blofeld. (only highlighting the strength of past villains: Telly Savalas, Christopher Lee, Christopher Walken and Javier Bardem), even his lair is a pale paper mache interpretation of You Only Live Twice's volcanic cavern. Waltz just never seems to have the ammunition (both literally and metaphorically) to scare and while Lea Seydoux makes a gallant attempt to paper over her costars' shortcomings she cannot save even the final third of this film.
Spectre serves as further evidence how in the absence of Fleming Bond reverts to being little more than a grandiose cliché; blockbuster by numbers with little of the subtlety, charm or intricacy which made the books and early films so memorable. The makers need to pick a theme an run with it. Fundamentally the disappointment of the film is built upon its promise: an interesting Blofeld linked through more than just name to Bond's previous adventures, a truly interesting chemistry (again see OHMSS) an MI6 functioning as a backdrop to Bond, indeed just a Bond film which shows the unerring confidence of its protagonist to be itself in the moment not preoccupied with its past, future or misogynistic premise.
I hope that Craig and Mendes now move on from the franchise, unfortunately Craig's outspoken distaste for a fantastical character from yesteryear has translated into a dull movie. Disregarding the aforementioned shortcomings, as the man responsible for Bond's most boring car chase, Mendes should take this one on the chin and move back to his character dramas. Fiennes can stay though, the man who leaves with the most credit, I can't help but think that a radical overhaul should see him take a demotion to the role of the world's most iconic spy.