Spectre

Over the course of four minutes, the latest instalment in the James Bond franchise opens by stalking its titular protagonist during Mexico City’s Day of the Dead parade. He weaves through a thriving mass of people and bobs around obstacles, all while literally wearing a mask — and in charting his roaming and roving in a confident one-take tracking shot that journeys into a hotel room, through its window and onto nearby rooftops, Spectre observes series staples and establishes the foundations for much of the content to follow. 

That Bond (Daniel Craig, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo) will continue to progress through an onslaught of impediments is to be expected based on the 23 films that have gone before; that the height of his current thrills — and Spectre‘s too — could be contained within this strikingly crafted, suspenseful introductory scene is somewhat similarly easily anticipated, particularly given the lashings of existential angst that have seeped though during Craig’s stint as the character. Angst, most noticeable in 2008’s Quantum of Solace and 2012’s Skyfall, keeps plaguing the MI6 operative, manifesting in his growing agonising over the impact of the façade that is his espionage agent persona.

So it is that Spectre starts with both style and the foreshadowing of much of the routine events to follow, which typifies the entirety of director Sam Mendes’ (Away We Go) second consecutive Bond effort. Though the last movie demonstrated otherwise, it seems that surprises in structure and story are few at this stage in Bond’s screen outings, as the script by fellow Skyfall returnees John Logan, Neal Purvis and Robert Wade and newcomer Jez Butterworth (Black Mass) makes apparent. Instead, placing the template firmly within the 21st century and bringing to a conclusion a four-feature dramatic arc are where the feature and its players dare to deviate from the pre-ordained path, in what amounts to an entertaining yet standard Bond offering.

The presence of many a past deed haunts ​Bond, including the circumstances that brought in a new M (Ralph Fiennes, The Grand Budapest Hotel) as his boss. Acting upon his previous overseer’s (Judi Dench, The Second Best Exotic Marigold Hotel) last instructions inspires 007’s Mexican jaunt and the mayhem that eventuates. It also causes a whirlwind of institutional disapproval afterwards, resulting in active field work being shuttered and a new technology focused, online surveillance obsessed MI5 chief, C (Andrew Scott, Pride), installed as the ultimate decision maker. 

Unperturbed, Bond keeps following his secret mission — with the surreptitious assistance of Moneypenny (Naomie Harris, Southpaw) and Q (Ben Whishaw, Suffragette), and while making new acquaintances out of a bereaved widow, Lucia (Monica Bellucci, The Wonders), as well as a hitman’s psychologist daughter, Madeleine Swann (Léa Seydoux, The Lobster). Uncovering the plans of Franz Oberhauser (Christoph Waltz, Big Eyes), the figure behind the titular organisation, is his aim as he hops between Rome, the Austrian Alps, the Moroccan desert and London, and one he can’t achieve without personal consequences. 

Accordingly, as he battles henchmen, hoodwinks his superiors, potentially finds an amorous equal, hunts a criminal mastermind, tussles with a topical matter and creates more than a few brazen displays reliant upon or contained within modes of transport — aka cycles through the usual franchise elements and knowingly nods to a few icons, too — Bond comes to terms with spying in modern times as well as his place within such clandestine chaos. Of course, for the bulk of the film’s running time, all the antics are thrust to the foreground, with the quest for depth pushed into the shadows. Perhaps that’s what makes Spectre lose the sheen Skyfall boasted; all the parts remain in this lengthy outing, plus an attempt to tie the recent run of movies together, though very little proves more than pleasingly perfunctory.

Of course, an over-extended, by-the-book Bond film has its bugbears as much as its merits, moments and charms. The strained, maudlin refrains of Sam Smith’s theme song do the darker feature few favours, though Thomas Newman’s (Bridge of Spies) vibrant score fares better in investing a sense of energy and momentum. The same divide exists in the contrast of character development and action, with Mendes a competent setpiece helmer — though cinematographer Hoyte Van Hoytema (Interstellar) proves the star of these scenes — but at his best when taking a rare moment to let his feature, and the players within it, catch its breath. Within such visually elegant, emotionally striving yet struggling confines, that the cast, who share links to multiple versions of Hamlet and Frankenstein between them, also suffer varying fortunes hardly astonishes.

Chatter might centre on speculation around his successor; however Craig proves an apt fit for the tone cultivated in warm-hued frames here as well as in the three steelier prior offerings — solemn yet sleek, and shying away from pulpiness and peppering in only modest servings of humour. He’s in fine licensed-to-kill form again, with Fiennes, Harris and Whishaw also impressing despite their limited screen time, and Seydoux serving up a more fleshed-out love interest than the series usually trifles with. Alas, even as he welcomely dials back his usual overt antics, Waltz remains clumsy, though he is saddled with the weakest areas of the screenplay. In fact, his villain is as emblematic of Spectre‘s fortunes as the spellbinding segment that kick-starts the film: whether they’re representing a comfortable inclusion or a smattering of spectacle, any efforts at reinventing the familiar can’t transcend the heavy-handedly employed yet still enjoyable Bond formula.

Rating: 3 stars out of 5

Spectre
Director: Sam Mendes
UK / USA, 2015, 148 mins

Release date: 12 November
Distributor: Sony
Rated: M