I had rather mixed feelings about 'No Time to Die'.
I shall therefore explain why it bored the pants off me - then I may include a conclusion that mentions one good thing about it.
Clocking at about 3 hours and five quarters, the film takes its place inside the saga that started with the terrific 'Casino Royale', once again pitting Daniel Craig against the Spectre network (yes, thank you, I know about earlier movies too). 'No Time to Die' can thus be called the fourth episode of a series. But, where the terrific 'Casino Royale' made no bones about reminding everyone of Bond's true nature (he's a hit-man, “the brawn to M's brain”, her “battering ram”), 'No Time to Die' chooses to present Bond as a man haunted -well, as much as Daniel Craig can do haunted...- by his love for Dr Swann (Léa Seydoux) and so most of the story revolves around Bond and Madeleine enjoying the perfect romance only for Madeleine to betray Bond who then dumps her and then misses her because the craggy old git still loves her and she still loves him but he can't admit it to himself she can't admit it to herself and that's even before they have to admit it to each other but then they do and -hey, ho- it's all systems go again until she quits him and he chases after her and then they get together again and then they split but he still loves her oh what's a man to do, he's -like- totally sad yeah, that's when he discovers -and here we veer into 'Superman Man of Steel' territory- that she has a daughter but, hey, she's not his so who on earth is her dad, could it be the bitch has truly double-timed him for real, dammit he was right all along, oh the pain, the anguish, the clenched teeth that serve as Daniel Craig's introspective expression, except hell no she hasn't, she has always loved him and so has he, they were always meant to be togeva it must have been an act of God then let's leave it at that, agreed? Not agreed, replies Madeleine who may -or may not- have been a sleeping triple Spectre agent gone rogue who then decided to (please note: this reviewer has only seen the first three hours) demonstrate her true feelings to him -that's James Bond that is- in a shocking finale where she sacrifices herself at his hands to save her child's life, thereby revealing the true depth of her feelings for him (like he hasn't been there before ha ha ha) and ensuring that Madeleine Junior will grow up to be an assassin just like her mum and her (presumed/honorary/cuckolded) dad (Reader's voice: 'Wait a second, are we reviewing 'No Time to Die' or 'Kill Bill'??'). ...Funnily, James saw the funny side of it.
Mixing it with these utterly fascinating -and not at all telegraphed- twists, we hear about some (obviously) nefarious world domination plan hatched by a professional malcontent or something - but frankly it's hard to give a flying fuck about it.
Daniel Craig scowls. Daniel Craig stares hard. Daniel Craig snaps. Babes -as befits this 'woke' age- kick arse. Ralph Fiennes condescends. Ralph Fiennes does Ralph Fiennes. Ralph Fiennes oozes upper class. Ralph Fiennes exudes good old patriarchal benevolence. Ralph Fiennes grumps, Ralph Fiennes snarls, Ralph Fiennes sacks 007 once more - and then Ralph Fiennes gets all pally with Bond in the next scene, go figure. Roy-not-Greg Kinnear does his Roy-not-Greg Kinnear posh frowny thing. Planes turn into submarines. Cars fly. French babes rule. Q touches up his glasses. Q hacks entire networks faster than you can say 'Mr Robot'. The Italian country is lush. Scandinavia looks awesome (in the two opposite meanings of the term). Aston Martins come with machine guns, bullet-proof windows and disco lights. Daniel Craig looks great in a tight tuxedo. Cocks crow. Horses neigh. Fish splosh. Hippos growl. Elephants trumpet. Man Citeh and Qatar St-Germain are a disgrace.
And so the franchise endures.
Crimelord with physical deformity -check. Crimelordevillaird on an island -check. James Bond quits oh no he doesn't -check. James gets to run like a mini Tom Cruise -check. Villain wears designer minimalist black clothes (the sure sign of a pervert in any American blockbuster for the last thirty years) -check. Oh, and Stevie Wonder is probably the only person in the world who will have missed that *subtle* belly patting gesture by James's missus in the station scene.
Interestingly (admittedly, some will judge I use this term rather loosely), I was amused by the geo-political take on the crimelordevillaird location. I won't spoil it for you (it's situated between R*ssia and Ch*na), you'll have to discover it for yourself.
Also, other connoisseurs (sic) (the correct spelling is 'connaisseur'!!) of James Bond movies will appreciate the subtle inclusion of 'We Have All The Time In The World' during the early lovey dovey scenes... ie it ain't gonna end well!!!
Things
I didn't like.
The bleeding when oh when oh when oh when oh when oh WHEN will they give us a fuckin' break pale-blue-and-orange colour scheme, fortunately supplemented at times by the recent addition (think the delightful “les petits meurtres d'Agatha Christie” palette) of dayglo turquoise with dark green. Superb photography otherwise – one can never go wrong with night-time neon lights, isn't that right Christopher Doyle? (see the skyscraper night-time fight-scene in 'Skyfall' and the 'John Wick 3' glass-walled multi-fight extravaganza)
The pre-opening credits scene with the (…....) (…......) a (…......) in the (…...), thereby leading her to a life of (…......) (….....) (…............): What the hell is this? An imitation Giallo? Scandinoir for beginners? A effing Bruce Willis vehicle????? Not only that, but its unforgivable mistake is that it also robs us of the customary turned-up-to-eleven opener, the trademark 007 hook.
You may have noticed that I have hardly mentioned the villain. That's because he hardly features (puts in a cameo at the end, fucks off shortly thereafter) what with the focus of the film -or maybe this piece, mind you...- being Bond's love aches, which can only lead to the unavoidable question:
Who gives a flying fuck about that??
By the look of it, 007 will alternate week-ends in the next instalment (“And could you pleeeease for once make sure she has all her school things – or else she'll get behind with her homework again and I'll need to get Q to hack into her school detention record!!”).
For this is no longer the James Bond of yore. Gone is the international playboy, the carefree philanderer, the flamboyant champion at everything. The advent of AIDS, the new (and catastrophically overdue) ecological concerns, the rise of Political Correctness, the arrival of Daniel Craig, the change of editorial direction - all of this has vigorously scrubbed the character of any of the kitsch / camp connotations and unrealistic panache that threatened to turn him into a joke during the 70s and 80s. The current reboot is only logical, following the change of gear with Timothy Dalton. Then Pierce Brosnan appeared – and his tenure did not quite stick to the new, hardened formula. The Daniel Craig period certainly does. His Bond is less extravagant, more stolid. He is less of a charmer, and more of a driven operative. He does not look as ostentatious, but is more brooding (which reminds me of that great line in 'The Trip to Italy' with Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon, something along the lines of: “It's OK to look broody when you're 20, it makes you look all deep and mysterious - If you do it in your forties though, you look grumpy.'). Put another way, the Craigian Bond is less fun. Less over the top. Maybe the appearance of super-efficient Jason Bourne had something to do with it; maybe the producers are trying to make the character more relatable.
Things I liked.
Ana de Armas. One can never get enough of Ana de Armas, who is originally from Cuba ...and who shares her birthday with me :-))).
Daniel Craig. You may not believe it, but I certainly like our Daniel, and always did. I totally respect his decision to leave the Bond franchise (which reminds me of Hugh Jackman explaining what a nightmare it had become to get back into superhuman shape for each new 'Wolverine' instalment). Craig has a lot to offer elsewhere - go check out 'Knives are Out' for instance, where our David is having a ball. In my eyes, Craig has been a terrific Bond (disclosure: he was the one I wanted to see get the job). Now is probably the right time to leave, and hopefully pass the baton to sex-on-legs Idriss Elba (Just imagine... Gasp!!).
Ever since the terrific 'Casino Royale', the timing and utterance of the mandatory 'Bond. James Bond.' line has been a pleasure to look out for. They sure haven't let the side down in this one! (Addendum: and not once, but twice.) Unfortunately, the producers seem to have retired the other trademark 'Oh, Jaaames' line. It worked perfectly in the Roger Moore era ...and therein shall you find the reason why it doesn't anymore. It just wouldn't fit Daniel Craig (surely no-one will have forgotten the disastrous line they made him say about using his little finger in the terrific 'Casino Royale'? Shudder....).
So
there you are.
I could go on and reveal how Bond dispatches secret traitor M at the end and flies off to winsome Qatar, but that would be cheeky. Away you go, our David – and best of luck to his successor! (Wanna go for a -say...- black woman as an outside bet? Done! I'll give you 50-to-1 reduced to a 5-to-1 before end of play if you have the balls it's up to you - grab it while you can, just for one day, let the dog see the rabbit, chop chop, luverly jubberly, I'm slashin' me own throat here!)
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