SPECTRE: A Review

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Daniel Craig has always been known for being arguably the most brooding and troubled of the various James Bonds. But his latest outing SPECTRE is much closer to the tone of the cheekier Sean Connery films than his previous ones that took him on harrowing personal journeys, even though this new film also provides Bond with yet another to contend with.

Boasting one of the biggest budgets + marketing for any spy film at roughly $300 million, it certainly provides the 007 faithful and any potential newcomers to the series with all of the thrills and trademark visuals that you’d expect. But despite a decidedly dramatic screenplay and some ominous directing from Sam Mendes, for the most part it has a noticeably lighter and more “honorable” tone than Casino Royale or Skyfall.

 

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Though Craig has always crafted his Bond as a stoic loner, I can’t recall the last time he was written with this much empathy, or so willingly reliant on the Power Of Friendship. It’s a final request from Judi Dench’s previous M that set him on his latest caper, tracking down wanted criminal Marco Sciarra (Alessandro Cremona) during the film’s rather elaborate pre-title opener throughout a busy Mexico City.

The hustle and bustle of Day Of The Dead celebrations aren’t enough to interfere with his work as he chases Sciarra through the crowd and then engages him in a helicopter brawl that may remind long time fans of For Your Eyes Only. It’s a good example of Hoyte van Hoytema’s top notch cinematography throughout the film, and it’s a shame SPECTRE didn’t premiere a few weeks earlier as James’s skeleton getup might have made a bitching Halloween costume.

Despite criticism from the current M (an engaging Ralph Fiennes) over his trademark recklessness, Bond continues to investigate his lead with the help of Moneypenny (Naomie Harris) and a more active Q (Ben Whishaw, charmingly nerdy), A tip from Sciarra’s widow Lucia (Monica Belucci, who’s here all to briefly) leads him to a mysterious gathering of ne’er do wells in Rome, as well as the unwanted attention of the fearsome hitman Hinx (Dave Bautista). After some further intel he’s soon guarding psychologist Madeleine Swann, the daughter of one of the organization’s ex-members. As the two dig further into what exactly the film’s titular group is planning, the stakes become increasingly personal for both of them.

 

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If Craig is really as burnt out with Aston Martins and shaken martinis as he’s implied in interviews, he’s not showing it here. SPECTRE has a surprising amount of droll, oh-so-British humorous moments, though not to where it distracts too much from the gravity of the story. Bond notably has some good chemistry with Whishaw’s Q, with his old fashioned blunt heroism colliding with his modern sensibilities.

Lea Seydoux’s Swann is a decent and sympathetic Bond girl, not an out-and-out asskicker but more capable than your typical damsel Even though they can’t keep their hands off each other for too long, the sexual energy between them emits from both sides, and she has enough personal agency to shoot him down when she’s not interested. Fiennes’s M, bogged down in a struggle with security head C (Andrew Scott) as first seems like the typical restrictive action movie boss, but over the course of the film he gets some good character growth.

Of course Bond is nothing without good adversaries, and Christopher Waltz as SPECTRE’s head eats up as much scenery as you’d expect from him. I won’t spoil his big reveal, but it’s certainly one that will make long time Bond fans excited. His plan is thorough to the point of obsession, so if nothing else he certainly knows how to keep busy over a long time. Bautista’s Hinx is a silent but oddly charismatic killer in the mold of The Spy Who Loved Me’s Jaws, crushing the skulls of his victims like the basketballs that make up one of his more popular memes.

With its overwhelmingly large action sequences and even larger price tag, SPECTRE could have easily fallen into the mindless excess that derailed Die Another Day (*shudders*). But Bond’s latest outing mostly lacks the cartoonish gadgetry the series is known for, striking a good balance between chases and plot advancement. Between that and Sam Smith’s velvety but oddly catchy theme “The Writing’s On The Wall”, it has way more in common with From Russia With Love than Moonraker, and the heart written into Bond’s character this time elevates the material. Generally recommended, but the 007 fanbase will especially be over the moon.