Gareth Mallory (Ralph Fiennes), chair of the Intelligence and Security Committee, insists that it does no good to root out evildoers by sending agents into the shadows when "there are no more shadows." And Judi Dench's usually impervious M seems to be reckoning, for the first time, with the possibility that her tactics are strictly Old World. ![]() Skyfall finds James Bond and the MI6 spy agency struggling to do battle with a cyber-terrorist whose methods have the entire British intelligence force with their backs to the wall. He may be a super hero, but he's no superhero. Nevertheless, Skyfall is preoccupied with death, right down to the luxuriant opening credits sequence superimposing nude, writhing women against After Effects skulls, streams of gelatinous blood and looming headstones, all underpinning an opening sequence that underlines its hero's mortality. Of course, the suggestion might just be one of the Bond series' biggest winks to the camera ever, since the answer to both proposals is a resounding no. Skyfall explicitly acknowledges not only Craig's mojo-spiking effect on the once terminally campy espionage series, but also toys with the idea that both Craig and the series he saved might both be getting a little creaky. He's a smoldering, conflicted, brooding Ketel One man, as likely to be objectified for his sex appeal as his latest curvaceous Bond girl, a tag that has, tellingly, gone out of fashion with the newest string of franchise installments. We already knew, thanks to Casino Royale (which has basically supplanted Goldfinger from the throne as the presumptive " best Bond ever") and to a lesser extent Quantum of Solace, that Daniel Craig is not your father's quip-spouting, gadget-slinging, smirk-flashing 007. After 23 films and 50 years, James Bond has never looked more sleek, svelte and lethal.
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