On the couch

James dies at the start.
As Bond beginnings go, it is a fairly original tack to take but, after the critical mauling Quantum of Solace received – an overly-maligned flick – Sam Mendes was under a lot of pressure to make sure Skyfall, the 23rd in the spy series released 50 years after Dr No did not suck.
In fact, it had to do quite a bit more than that just to earn a modicum of approval and by jove it did.
Not only does he resurrect the martini-swilling lothario, ably played by Daniel Craig, Mendes provides a Bond that is both action-packed in the style of the previous two (thank you Mr Bourne) and witty, tipping its cap at the rich tradition the films have built up over their 50 years without ever drifting into parody of overt comedy.
While the story starts in a suitably Bond-y place – a stolen disc threatens to reveal the identities of MI6 deep cover agents – it develops into something far more interesting and, unusual for Bond, personal.
Starring as Raoul Silva, Javier Bardem gives the franchise probably its most interesting villain. A former agent himself, Silva was once what James is now and the axe he has to grind with his former employers is one that 007 could very well have picked up himself.
As this very personal intrigue grows however, Mendes never loses sight of his responsibility to keep the thrills plentiful and the spills frequent and before finally meeting his nemesis, Bond bops across the world dispatching would-be assassins and dragons while still finding time to woo a sultry maiden or two – Naomie Harris and Bérénice Marlohe continuing the films’ recent trend of making sure the Bond girls are more than just eye candy.
As James tries to track down the missing disc and the man behind its theft and subsequent attack on MI6 headquarters, M (Judi Dench) has her own battles to fight in London as bureaucracy attempts to bring the brilliant old bird low – a task countless well armed international terrorists failed to do.
While it indulges the usual secret agent globe-trotting, this 50th anniversary outing does seem to feature more of jolly Old England than usual. Some of cinematographer Roger Deakins work – particularly shots of the London skyline, the interior of the Ministry of Defence and the wilds of Scotland are absolutely breathtaking and far more “arty” than is typical for a 007 flick.
Adding to that delightful frothing of class is the film’s music, from occasional snatches that evoke previous Bond outings to the theme song by Adele. Again not necessarily a make-or-break aspect of the production but something, when done so well, that adds hugely to the whole experience.
Of course none of the smart-arsery, nerd-baiting, lovely vistas or nice music would matter a whit if Skyfall didn’t measure up in the most important category of all: bad-ass spy antics. Fortunately this box is also ticked, crossed off and awarded two gold stars by daring to do something none of its predecessors have done before – portray the world’s most famous secret agent as not being up to the job.
Sure he’s been in scraps before. He’s been injured, drugged or overwhelmed but never before has James been shown not to be capable of getting the job done.
Not so this time around. Facing a villain who is just as well trained in espionage as well as being smarter, richer and crazier Bond is shown up to be sub-par. And so James’ greatest enemy is revealed to be his own weakness.
It’s pretty stirring stuff rendered even more interesting by some fantastic set pieces – particularly a sprawling chase and shootout across the streets of London. While the film’s denoument – a Highlands showdown – is entertaining, it feels a little tacked on, given the tenor of the film up till then. However it’s a small quibble really as the overall strength of the story more than makes up for it.
In fact, for a film series that is almost entirely predicated on the quality, exuberance and audacity of its spectacle, it’s the story of Skyfall that really ropes you in in the end. After 23 films the peeling back of the shroud of mystery surrounding Bond and his fellow spies makes for fascinating stuff.
The human moments are just sufficient to make Bond seem human without ruining his image and any sense of sympathy will likely have worn off by the time Bond 24 comes around.
In the meantime get the caviar, pour yourself a martini (or other, age-appropriate beverage) and enjoy the best bit of action-romping you’re likely to see in recent months.