As far as mere mortals go, James Bond is pretty bad-ass. He can wield the latest technological gadgets and gizmos like nobody’s business. He can handle a beautiful sports car and a beautiful woman with equal dexterity and, very possibly, at the same time. And when it comes to fighting baddies, he can kick butt with the best of them.
The problem, however, is that he is a mere mortal and he is starting to look a little long in the tooth. Not necessarily Daniel Craig, whose weary sexiness is still one of the best parts of this incarnation. Rather, it’s the series itself, which is beginning to look like an old (if faithful) dog who is going through the motions of its old tricks without bothering to learn anything new.
SPECTRE, the latest Bond adventure (opening nationwide November 6), certainly knows to pay homage to its Mission: Impossible offspring and puts its best trick first: A chase becomes airborne in a helicopter that spins and twirls above screaming and fleeing spectators during Mexico City’s Day of the Dead. From that point on, Director Sam Mendes (whose best movie is still American Beauty) mostly paints by numbers (though a cameo from Judi Dench as deceased M is a nice addition).
Bond goes on the hunt for a secret organization creating chaos in the world. Along the way, he is hunted himself (especially by Guardians of the Galaxy's Dave Bautista), races through the streets of exotic locales and beds gorgeous women. We’ve pretty much seen it all before.
And then he encounters Christoph Waltz as Bond supervillain Oberhauser/Blofeld. Waltz has two Oscars in his back pocket, and at first glance he can certainly talk the talk (his chirping of “Cuckoo” when he first sees Bond is particularly creepy). But physically he comes across as somewhat diminutive (is this really the same actor who played a dangerous Nazi in Inglourious Basterds?) and therefore far less threatening than he should be. Likewise, his whole motivation for wanting to kill Bond, though distinctly Freudian, seems a somewhat weak reason for all the havoc that ensues.
Nonetheless, there are more than a few diamonds in this particular rough. A distinctly dry, British sense of humor runs through the proceedings, with a lot of the best lines going to Ben Whishaw as resourceful tech whiz Q (“I believe I said bring it bring back in one piece, not bring back one piece” is one of his bon mots).
The climactic set piece, though highly improbable, has a certain surrealistic quality to it, red wires running through a building like veins, Oberhauser turning his ruined face to talk to Bond through glass as if he were looking at his own reflection.
And of course Craig himself is always a delight, still bringing full balls and enough classy bravado to the role to blast him through another testosterone-fueled adventure.
But this can often look like picking at scraps – which is what dogs generally do (if you want to bring that canine metaphor full circle). If only it were possible to get said dogs away from the scrap heaps and forage for food in new locations. One hopes that the search for a new actor to play Bond will help inject much needed vigor into a series that is beginning to sorely look like it needs it.
Bond may still be bad-ass – but it does absolutely no one any favors if that ass is beginning to sag.
SPECTRE, Directed by Sam Mendes, starring Daniel Craig, opening Nov. 6: Two and a half stars.
This article appears in Nov 5-11, 2015.