What other film could cause more nervous anxiety than Skyfall? It is at once a film that could atone for the convoluted debacle that was Quantum of Solace; it could also be a film that repeats the very same convoluted debacle. In a way, Quantum of Solace proved that, while people wanted a different James Bond that does not match the Sean/Dalton/Brosnon archetype, veering too far away from the familiar results in abject chastising. Evidently, Casino Royale – and its Gordian knot-ball pummeling – went far enough into the dark side of Bond that audiences were content standing at that perimeter, letting further risks reside on a horizon miles and miles away.
That said, Skyfall – with its Adele soundtrack companion – will probably be as dark as Casino Royale, if the assumed Bond death cum resurrection is explored as fully as it should be. If nothing else, Craig’s presence as Bond is enough to assure that any romantic tryst will be less smarmy and dreamy than his predecessors and more out of hedonistic philandering.
Two other things bode well for this installment. First, it was given more time to gestate (four years) than was Quantum (two years). Granted, this could be solely tied to its stars’ production schedule. (Craig was filming Fincher’s The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.) However, Quantum often felt as if it was thrown together and released in the hopes of building from its predecessor’s successful re-imagining.
Second, Javier Bardem plays the villain, which means – while he might look cartoonish in the trailer – he will be a solid foil for Bond, and if nothing else will recall Anton Sugar and the creepiness therein.
Another perk might even be that Sam Mendes is behind the camera. While he hasn’t done a whole lot since American Beauty, the man knows how to shoot a film and make it beautiful at the same time.
P.S. Lincoln is also opening this weekend, but I’m not sure how much I want to predict about a film with Spielberg at the helm. While Daniel Day Lewis is sure to be nominated for an Oscar — and might even win if Joaquin Phoenix continues to play his “awards are bullshit” card — I’m not sure if I’m up for investigating Spielberg’s most likely melodramatic look at a rather complicated individual.
