By Muhammad Muzammal – Assistant Arts and Entertainment Editor
If there ever was a frustrating film experience, “Spectre” would take the cake. Sam Mendes’ sequel to his 2012 smash hit “Skyfall” is not just a problematic James Bond film, but a troubling experience that fails to be fun or surreal or romantic, an ambitious combination that “Spectre” strives to become.
This ambition of the film is certainly lauded and there are minute flourishes of genius that give the film some sense of originality, like the opening sequence.
In the sequence, a five minute single shot gravitates through the macabre, bizarre Day of the Dead celebration in Mexico City. The camera drums past the parade folk, to a skull masked spectator, who struts with his lady friend.
This spectator is none other than our classic hero, British agent 007, James Bond (Daniel Craig).
Not too soon after, Bond will withstand a building explosion, leap onto a floating helicopter, and kill both the copter pilot and a secret agent; all the while keeping his suit spotless.
This sequence is breathlessly orchestrated, fitting into the Bondsian tradition of action scenes. From the offbeat scenario in the death parade, to the thrilling helicopter scene, “Spectre” maintains a cool, fresh tone that adds to the success of the last Bond outing, “Skyfall.” Unfortunately, the freshness stops there.
Bond is suspended by the MI6 for creating havoc in Mexico City and of course, being the rebellious, bad ass Bond that he is, he doesn’t listen to his orders and instead, steals a brand new Audi the inventor Q (Ben Whishaw) has just issued for agent 009 (Bond destroyed his last issued car, which Q humorlessly references – “I told you to bring it back in one piece! Not one piece.”).
Bond further investigates the Mexico City incident, leading him to Rome, where he finds Oberhauser (a criminally underused Christoph Waltz), the presumed dead leader of a major sex trafficking trade and of the titular Spectre, a sinister terrorist organization.
As we figure later in the film, Oberhauser has some personal issues with Bond and being the evil mastermind he is, Oberhauser throws obstacles in front of Bond, all of which Bond predictably overcomes, some in truly thrilling fashion (the silent, larger than life Dave Bautista is effectively used here as Oberhauser’s main henchman).
Bond connects with a former adversary assassin, Mr. White (Jesper Christensen) for information on Spectre. Bond makes a deal with the reclusive White – Bond will protect White’s daughter, the Proustian named Madeleine Swann (Lea Seydoux), in return of intelligence on Spectre.
This jumpstarts Bond’s 24th romantic subplot. This time, it is with a fellow assassin who is more brain than brawl. Swann understands Bond more than most people, for only an assassin with a troubled upbringing riddled with parental issues, can truly comprehend the pains of the orphan Bond.
All of this is wonderful and deep, but if the film’s committee of screenwriters (John Logan, Neal Purvis, Robert Wade and Jez Butterworth) are planning to humanize Bond, the writers run the risk of ruining a man of mystery whose lack of a backstory have been appealing for so many years. Whereas “Casino Royale” and “Skyfall” featured a Bond that could fall in love or desire a mother figure, “Spectre” throws Bond a villain, whose father had housed Bond for two winters during Bond’s lonely, parentless teenage years.
That’s a risk.
The payoff? Not too impressive. Oberhauser is a terrible antagonist who is more talk than walk (at one point, he unabashedly proclaims to Bond, “I am the author of your pain.”). Oberhauser was apparently the head honcho of all the villains in the previous Craig Bond films (“Casino Royale,” “Quantum of Solace,” “Skyfall”), but doesn’t feel like it. Oberhauser is lame and frankly, a poor villain who spends more time intimidating people than showing us why he’s so scary.
The cast does modestly decent work here (Craig and Seydoux have weak chemistry) and even if the film fails to have a balance between homage (the Aston Martin car and train action scene brings up previous Bond films) and its own characteristic style, the action scenes are well done.
However, due to the lack of a strong narrative, the action scenes appear disjointed, but the scenes themselves are exciting and cool. It never gets old to see Bond fly a plane through a snowy mountain, fight an evil henchman on a moving train and narrowly escape an explosion.
This doesn’t fix the entertainment factor, though. As the film approaches its finale, there are no surprises or exciting twists on the way. The story predictably pans out and as a result, once the credits roll, people walk away, and maybe they’re like me, allured by the laziness of the new film of one of Britain’s most beloved characters.
There are reasons behind “Spectre’s” lazy, story aesthetic.
Sam Mendes’ vision of Bond who confronts his inner demons, worked effectively in “Skyfall,” and this time, Mendes decided to expand on his vision. But wait!
There needs to be a sexy Bond girl, a few new cars and action scenes whose volume is amped up to the nth degree. There needs to be a long drawn out complicated plot, and a villain with a crazed, psychopathic sensibility.
All forgettable fluff.
After all is said and done, what I’ll remember most from “Spectre” is the spooky images of the skulled masks at the Day of the Dead parade and the shadowy image of Oberhauser talking at a group meeting.
With these moments of horror grandeur, Mendes incorporates a type of specific vision, which expands upon the superior “Skyfall,” but “Spectre” is too much of a product.
This is not Mendes’ franchise. Mendes has the pressure of 23 Bond films and so I don’t fully blame him for “Spectre’s” misfortunes.
Instead, the blame goes towards the greatest villain in hiding – the studio system, who would rather have a product than a fully realized, living, breathing artistic entity.
With all that it is, “Spectre” may shake, but it’ll never stir.