Review: Watch Skyfall for the performances, and new direction

Film: Skyfall (U/A)
Cast: Daniel Craig, Javier Bardem, Judi Dench, Naomie Harris, Ben Whishaw
Director: Sam Mendes
Rating: ****

Done playing dead, James Bond returns after ostensibly being taken out by a fellow MI6 agent's ill-aimed bullet. But the badly considered shooting, and the overall weight of years, take their toll on 007. This welcome but, for some fans, hard-to-swallow development mirrors the reservations about the relevance in political circles about his shadowy agency, which is constantly engaged in invisible wars with unknown evils.

But with a maniac blowing the cover of every undercover NATO operative, politics is the least of the brusque secret-service chief M's concerns and the resurrected Mr Bond must save the day.

The biggest villain in the film is the ignominy of the decline into irrelevance. This is, after all, Bond's 23rd romp on the silver screen. Notwithstanding his slipping marksmanship, Bond, as played by Craig, is still the anti-suave killing machine of the previous two instalments. And the well-placed chinks in his armour, his yearning to gain a semblance of humanity, are still something to behold.

M (Dench), faulted by her peers for her decisions, must defend her emotionally detached choices and decisions that leave behind collateral damage, to which Bond is no stranger. Shedding the character's rough exterior, Dench brings a quiet humanity to a woman justifying her flaws. Harris, in contrast, is jarring as the initially unnamed agent who is responsible for 'gunning down' Bond.

Silva (Bardem), one of the most daunting evil-doers to cross the Bond's path, has a legitimate claim to villainy. Without a trace of the coin-flipping crazy Anton Chigurh, Bardem is beyond brilliant.

Cinematographer Roger Deakins, another common link with No Country For Old Men, proves in his third collaboration with Mendes why he is so decorated. Whether it's the rooftops of Istanbul, or the skyscrapers of Shanghai, or the Scottish Highlands, his work lends itself well to the context of the story, not standing out just for the sake of displaying exoticism.

The film, anchored in realism, has its dry spells in terms of action. While the pacing isn't as spot-on as it was in Casino Royale, the idea of Bond wearying of the spy game's shortcomings and succumbing to the temptation of putting himself above others is a worthwhile one. Without revealing the denouement, the film's final confrontation is also a welcome departure from convention.

Skyfall must be watched for the quality of performances that one doesn't encounter often in action thrillers. That and for how it carries on a 50-year pop-culture icon in a new direction while being mindful, if not slyly reverential, of its legacy. As the able Whishaw, playing Bond's newest Quartermaster in a youthful boffinish avatar, puts it to a visibly disappointed Bond after handing him a plain-looking gun and radio “What were you expecting, exploding pens? We don't really go in for that anymore.”