Skyfall [Review by Haus]

Let’s do some simple word association. For instance, I might say “Skyfall,” and you might say:

“Finally.”

Finally to the solid, 50th Anniversary reboot this franchise needed. Finally to a loving and careful inclusion of classic Bond elements alongside a thoroughly modern story. Finally to a show-stealing villain with (relatively) modest ambitions. And finally to this long-overdue review, for which I beg your pardon. (In my defense, I write this after my 7th viewing; I did see the midnight pre-opening IMAX show on November 7th, in tuxedo bien sur, so rest assured I’ve not forgotten my priorities.)

Recent Bond history in very, very brief: Casino Royale (2006) was a true hard reboot, introducing Daniel Craig as a fresh-faced bond just about to earn his 00 number. A generous adaptation of the eponymous Ian Fleming novel, it saw Bond bust some faces, play some cards, and fall briefly in love (echoes of OHMSS). Quantum of Solace (2008) was a direct continuation but a weaker film all around; entertaining and with some great moments, but laggy at times, saddled with a curious enviro-villain, and far from iconic. And now here we are, four years later, on the golden anniversary of Honey Ryder and that ridiculous dragon tank. Early Skyfall buzz was positive. Apprehension was palpable. And, at long last, the damned thing delivers. Skyfall is terrific.

Whereas Casino Royale rebooted Bond himself, Skyfall resets the franchise and nudges it (firmly) back on course. Just as villain Silva (Javier Bardem) explains his homicidal-minimalist philosophy — “when a thing is redundant, it is, pip!, eliminated,” — so director Sam Mendes and team have pared this film down to its basic elements. Bond has no gadgets, just his pistol and a radio transmitter. And instead of hiding behind glass and gleam and silly tech, Mendes dives into the characters. Judi Dench‘s maternal role is played hard here and to interesting effect. Thematically, time and aging are attacked head on, Tennyson is put to good use, and Churchillian resilience is channeled through a desk ornament.

Craig gives a particularly tight performance as Bond, cool beyond words and stalking between scenes with his pursed-lip glare — softened in equal measure by some macho-tender mating interactions and even a sprinkling of Connery-era one liners. His likeness is, as you read this, causing a furious run on everything from peacoats to swimsuits to little china dogs, so very cool is he here.

Bardem does a splendid job as Silva. His slow walk from the elevator (“but now, they don’t eat coconut anymore”) instantly became one of my favorite monologues in film, and his blend of playful expressions and maniacal intensity makes for one of the best (if also the most over the top) baddies since Hannibal Lecter. Those who say Bardem makes this film are mistaken — it’s such a terrific movie it’d have been solid even without him — but he’s unquestionably a high point. Bérénice Lim Marlohe has grown on me, too. I’ve come to love her little twitches and microexpressions, and her sultry, smoky demeanor as the ill-fated Sévérine. What’s more, Skyfall is on several occasions just arrestingly beautiful. Purely iconic stuff.

Down points are few: It does drag at times, particularly late in act two; some of Bardem’s master plan seems in retrospect a little too pat; and I frankly just didn’t love the opening chase. There’s also a lot of Bond backstory here, much more than ever shown before and more than fans are accustomed to. It’s great this time around, but it’d be a mistake to think that the next film could ply the same waters. One backstory detour is plenty. But all that said, to give this film anything less than a glowing endorsement would be a crime against all that is right and true and I simply will not do it, so there.

For the die-hard fans Skyfall includes ample nods to Bond lore. Some are smack-me obvious (scenes with the iconic Aston Martin DB5 are lavishly shot and border on reverence) and others less so (e.g., Bond’s first return to the bustling Istanbul market since From Russia With Love 49 years prior). What’s old is made new again. Asked where he’s headed, Bond quips: “Back in time.” And it works. By the film’s end it’s like we’ve returned home: The leather-clad door to M’s wood-paneled and whisky-soaked office; the hat rack; Moneypenny; “James Bond Will Return”.

It’s more than homage — it’s resurrection. Bond is back.

HAUS VERDICT: Stands alone as a great character-driven film, but dedicated fans will find even more to love. Quite simply the best Bond ever.