![]() ![]() Swann leads Bond to Tangier and from there they journey by train to a desert location, Swann makes Bond question the life he has chosen for himself. She reveals the secret organisation is SPECTRE. ![]() The daughter, Dr Madeleine Swann, is reluctant to help, but after Bond rescues her from Hinx she agrees. In Austria, Bond meets his old nemesis Mr White and makes a promise to keep Mr White’s daughter safe in exchange for leading him to Oberhauser. The terrifying Hinx pursues Bond in a car chase. Bond travels to Rome and infiltrates a secret meeting, but their leader Franz Oberhauser, reveals Bond’s presence. Back in London, Bond is grounded by M but confides in Moneypenny that he was acting on orders from the previous M before she died. Like most of Spectre, he’s not quite old, not quite new, and not quite distinct enough to shake (or stir) this sequel out of second-tier Bond lethargy.On a rogue mission in Mexico City Bond kills an assassin. And despite having been born to play a Bond villain, Waltz never comes within striking distance of the volcanic menace of Javier Bardem’s Skyfall heavy perhaps the former has done the false-civility thing too many times for it to land anymore. For all the talk of its scary global reach, Spectre itself comes across as just another collective of disposable goons. But those films, even the clunky Quantum, had a more palpable sense of danger. (Roger Deakins is a tough act to follow, even for a cinematographer as accomplished as Interstellar shooter Hoyte Van Hoytema.) The movie bends over backwards to connect itself to the unofficial trilogy it follows, teasing a sequel-uniting retcon in the passable opening credits sequence. What Spectre lacks is the sinister magnetic pull of Skyfall, a Bond movie with real stakes and attitude and distinctive flavor, not to mention more mesmeric images than one can usually expect from this workmanlike blockbuster franchise. At times, Mendes just seems to be playing the 007 hits, sending Bond through an Olympics of familiar scenarios. Spectre never tops this spectacular cold open, but it makes a couple of valiant efforts: There’s a playful high-speed pursuit down the narrow allies of nighttime Rome, Bond testing his custom ride while long-distance flirting with Moneypenny (Naomie Harris), and a knock-down, drag-out fist fight with a Jaws-like henchman (Dave Bautista, of Guardians Of The Galaxy fame) aboard a speeding train. The Mexico City prologue finds a costumed Craig winding his way through a teeming Day Of The Dead parade, accompanying some random knockout to her chambers, and then casually finding a view to a kill from the balconies outside-all in one winding, sustained take. Mendes fares well with the set pieces, too. (Marginally, because Rebecca Ferguson raised that bar higher in this summer’s Mission: Impossible sequel.) The showroom sheen applies to the casting, too: To match Craig’s chiseled appeal-his is surely the most camera-ogled Bond body of them all-Mendes casts two of the most beautiful actresses in the world, though Monica Bellucci has much less to do than Léa Seydoux, whose gun-proficient doctor proves a marginally more proactive Bond girl. (There’s an argument to be made that his Oscar-winning first feature, American Beauty, is more a “film by Thomas Newman and Conrad Hall.”) Spectre, like his earlier Skyfall, is flush with cosmetic pleasures, from its fleet of modern and vintage vehicles to its grand wardrobe of suits to the spectacular range of scenic backdrops. Probably the most acclaimed and high-profile director the franchise has ever landed, Mendes remains valuable perhaps chiefly for his refined taste in collaborators. It’s about cars and clothes, guns and girls-and to those ends, Sam Mendes remains an ideal handler for this 21st-century iteration of the character. Besides allowing for another round of winks at the obsolescence of the Bond brand, this particular plot point permits Spectre to draw some curious ideological lines, condemning drone warfare and government surveillance while waxing nostalgic about the good ol’ days of Cold War assassination plots.įor all its international wanderings, the Bond series has never been about geopolitics. He has also to contend with a new automated global security program, run by a smug tyrant (Andrew Scott) with plans to shut down M (Ralph Fiennes) and his outdated, analog approach to national crises. This criminal syndicate, which holds secret meetings led by a shadow-drenched puppet master (Christoph Waltz), isn’t Bond’s only problem. Spectre reboots another pillar of the franchise mythology: the titular terror organization, a global network of supervillains last seen in 1971’s Diamonds Are Forever. Bond himself may be fully formed, but that doesn’t mean-in this age of perpetual prequels-that there’s no more backstory to disclose. ![]()
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