by Evan Woltz
Keep in mind while reading this… I love almost all the Bond movies for what they are, from the gritty and serious Craig Bond movies to the ultra-cheesy Roger Moore era. Beyond the specific writing issues I detail below, I also didn’t care for this one because it seems to be assuming a cheekier tone, which is totally wrong for Daniel Craig’s Bond world. Also, Sam Smith’s song was, shall we say… rough.
Also keep in mind that I can’t talk about why Spectre stinks without tons of spoilers. If you haven’t seen the movie, stop reading now!
The opening action in Mexico… super sweet. After that, the movie just slows down. No problem. It isn’t until the train scene that the writing starts to get glaringly dumb.
THE KICKOFF: The Swann chick has been cold at best toward Bond, then shows up for dinner all lovey and smiles, perfectly done up in a skimpy evening dress. Where/why did she get the dress? Aren’t they on the run?
Then Big Bad Dude shows up and punches Bond through several train cars. Sweet! But wait–where are all the other passengers and train workers? Even through the kitchen car. Did the bartender from earlier just evaporate? Is this a GHOST TRAIN?!?
Then Bond and Swann (Bwann?) immediately hook up, which feels totally shoehorned in (so to speak, ha!), and not really believable.
Then Bwann go ahead and are willingly escorted into the villain’s lair (?) and give up their weapons (??), which allows them to be immediately double-crossed and tortured (???), while Christoph Waltz (Blofeld) reveals his connection to Bond and NOBODY cares (not Swann, not Bond, not me) except Christoph Waltz.
Then as Bwann predictably escape, Bond kills a dude, shoots the, like, nine other guys guarding the whole base, fires three bullets at a random exposed valve, and the entire place blows to hell. Why are there guns anywhere near a place that will go off like a roman candle after three bullets?
Then Bwann zip to London, where Swann suddently realizes she needs to give up this wacky cloak ’n’ dagger lifestyle, in order to be conveniently placed as bait three minutes later in Christoph Waltz’s Dexter-style trap, complete with 8×10 pictures of Bond’s dearly departed hung up in shower stalls. You know. For the mental tortures.
MEANWHILE, in subplot land, M and Q try to stop C (sigh) by distracting him long enough for Q to destroy all of C’s nets. All of them! Oh, what? You have a developed, vetted, launch-ready monitoring system backed by a board of evil captains of industry AND the top eight world powers, and you need to stop it in 12-ish minutes? NO PROBLEM! All of their evil nets have been destroyed, sir! What’s that you say? Backup servers? NAH!
Then Bond doesn’t kill the guy who put spinning needles in his head and lives happily ever after! Button that up with the theft of a million dollar car, and a smug final moment that made me cringe as hard as when Pierce Brosnan uttered that final classy bon mot: “I thought Christmas came only once a year.”
I wouldn’t mind more Craig Bond films, as this has been a stellar franchise run up until now. But maybe Daniel could take that broken glass he said he’d slit his wrists with if he did another 007 film, and instead use it to chase down and scare away whichever one of the Squad of Dude Bros wrote the last half of this one.
Spectre is playing now at the AMC Southcenter 16, the Century Federal Way, and Kent Station 14. Won’t it be nice when Des Moines has its own theater again? It’s reportedly gonna happen! Until then, eat local before you go!