When it is all said and done, this final Daniel Craig James Bond movie has revealed that all the major players of all the recent movies have been moving all their lives in a circle so so small, so insular that the spy's world ends up looking like a daytime soap: he/she grew up with him/her and he/she is the son/daughter/mother/father/secret twin of him/her and is the one responsible for this/that major event in this/that other character's life, and everyone's made at least two trips through the snow to a particular home in remote Norway - making No Time To Die the soapiest, most melodramatic James Bond episode yet; themes are ripped from Greek tragedy: there's long-lost family secrets, a modern-day Midas touch, and diabolical revenge sought by yet another facially disfigured male villain; but it is beautiful and engrossing and checks all of those James Bond boxes - exquisitely photographed locations, expertly choreographed action, sophistication and sexiness - not quite achieving the sublime thrills of Casino Royale but certainly not a Quantum of Solace either - in terms of James Bond quality, this is more Skyfall or Spectre.
★★★★☆
CINECAL: ONE SENTENCE REVIEWS
No comments:
Post a Comment