Skyfall

For the 50th anniversary of James Bond’s cinematic debut, producers Michael G. Wilson and Barbara Broccoli finally made the first really good 007 film since the death of their father, original series producer Albert R. Broccoli. The movie does far more than pay token homage to the franchise's origins. Skyfall is a straight-up, old-school thriller, with the right mix of fun and danger that made Bond movies special in the first place. It's still a self-aware, milestone-marking picture and the producers haven’t tried to make a film as straightforward as From Russia With Love or For Your Eyes Only for this golden anniversary, but in many ways, they’ve made an even better choice.

I had successfully avoided any advertising and other advance information about the movie, so I had no idea what to expect when I went to the first show on opening day - as I’ve always tried to do with Bond films since I was a kid.  None of the names on the poster outside the theater gave me much hope. It was written by Neal Purvis and Robert Wade (responsible for the last two Daniel Craig entries in the Bond series, as well as some of the worst Pierce Brosnan pictures) and John Logan (who penned Gladiator, The Aviator, Hugo and several other unremarkable screenplays), and directed by Sam Mendes, the heavy-handed helmer of American Beauty, The Road to Perdition, Revolutionary Road and the nearly-unwatchable Away We Go.  As the film started, there were more red flags. As in the previous Craig films, the iconic gun-barrel logo was absent, and the opening chase, while more imaginativly shot then a typical modern chase scene, seemed like business as usual, with James Bond being far to superhuman for my taste. It was also clear that M, Bond's chief at MI6, was going to play a large role in the narrative; I have never liked Judi Dench in the M role and was disappointed that the producers didn’t replace her when they restarted the series with Craig. 

But to my surprise and delight, Skyfall takes everything I disliked about the past six Bond films and uses it all brilliantly to reinvent the series. The film manages to honor the legacy of the longest continually-running film series in the history of cinema while simultaneously telling an original and contemporary story. Casino Royale, the first Bond film to star Daniel Craig, was a more overt attempt at a reboot, with Craig playing a young and still-maturing James Bond. But instead of continuing the narrative of Casino Royale and its successor, A Quantum of Solace, Skyfall creates a new backstory for Craig as an older, world-weary Bond who bears the scars of many more than two previous adventures. This is much more appropriate for a fifty-year-old character, and the result of this and dozens of other strong choices is the most effective and inventive reboot yet, of Bond or any other film franchise that I can think of. In fact, this is the first “reboot” since that term was colloquialized, that actually got me excited again about a series again.

In welcome contrast to some of its recent predecessors, the film is neither precious nor smug. There are the usual overblown action sequences that make Bond a little too indestructible to identify with, but there is nothing unforgivable in this film, as there was during the Pierce Brosnan years. There is also a welcome return to the fun and humor of the series, two qualities sorely lacking in the first two Daniel Craig films. Much is made of how old Bond is getting—both the character and the franchise—but these aren’t just the pat in-jokes of past films like Goldeneye. Skyfall quite literally (at a scene set at the British Ministry of Defense) makes the case for why Bond is still relevant, and the movie demonstrates how satisfying it can be to watch a contained, patient, big-budget spy film with a terrific villain, intelligent dialogue, and shots that last for more than 72 frames.

Skyfall fully honors the Bond legacy while also taking some real risks with it. Delving into the childhood of a character who is supposed to be an enigma could have been a real misstep, but here the results are deeply satisfying. Although the film opens up Bond's history and inner life, it is not afraid to burn that history down to make way for the future of the series. It also creates solid character histories rather than shallow origin stories, avoiding the “Hey, look, we brought back that character you loved so much,” aesthetic of so many modern remakes and sequels, like Star Wars, Star Trek, Back to the Future, and Indiana Jones.  Instead, Skyfall reintroduces us to favorite characters in ways so subtle and clever that we often don’t realize we already know them until their scenes (or, in some cases, the whole movie) is over. The film works as a prequel, but it also dispenses with past conceptions about the Bond characters and sets a new tone that seems more in line with both the original 1960s novels and present-day realities.

The film isn’t a total success; occasionally the story slows down and reveals, unintentionally, how silly the plot really is, something you don't realize about the best Bond films until after they’re over. And I got a little tense whenever it seemed like Bond's misogyny, or his devotion to Dench’s stern, maternal M, were going to be “explained” by his childhood. But the Freudian aspects of the film are subtle and subtextual, as they should be. And while the references to past Bond films verge on being too self-aware, the filmmakers and cast handle them with aplomb. The film is such an overt reboot that I almost expected Sean Connery to show up in a cameo role at the end of the film to pass the torch to Craig, despite the fact that Connery’s torch would have burned out forty years and three Bonds ago. But instead of a surprise cameo, the film's terrific ending provides a great deal of dimension to James Bond the character, which is much more satisfying.

Skyfall tries hard to hold onto the Bourne Identity and Transformers audiences, even though it's much better suited for Spy Who Came in From the Cold types like me; trying to please everybody in quite a feat. The movie playfully tips its hat to not only the Bond films of old but also to other classics like The French Connection, The Lady from Shanghai, The Silence of the Lambs, The 39 Steps, and The Third Man. Craig's comfort in the Bond role is palpable, though he’s still no Sean Connery and fails to best to his own performance in last year’s The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, in which he was the best thing about the film. Javier Bardem, on the other hand, is a magnificent adversary, one of the best Bond villains ever. Mendes makes clean and confident directorial choices, and Roger Deakins's cinematography is intoxicating. Parts of the movie don't look real—there are still some colors that can only be found in the world of digital color-grading—but in general, this is the best-looking Bond picture since Freddie Young photographed You Only Live Twice in 1967.

By the time the film is over, we have been treated to a proper story that adds up to far more than a string of cool set pieces and references to better movies. It is the best Bond film since 1987's The Living Daylights, when Timothy Dalton took over the role for his all-too-brief two-film stint. Daylights was released on Bond’s 25th anniversary, and for most of the past 25 years, the series has been floundering, desperately trying to reinvent itself in a way that is both artistically and financially viable. If Skyfall does well at the box office, it will give me hope for the future of Hollywood, at least for another year.