Reborn, Retired, Recommissioned
With Craig onboard for another two films, and Logan already suggesting that Bonds 23 through 25 will be connected, Skyfall winds up being the end of a trilogy that reboots the Bond franchise, and the start of a trilogy that wants to reboot the character. Saved by means no more complex than “James Bond can’t die”, we find 007 in a nondescript tropical paradise, but in a depressive funk, which he treats with casual sex, alcohol, and drugs. The cold attitude that Bond shows his lover is about his only remaining identifiable feature, as he’s now sporting the baggy eyes and white-touched stubble of a man who really is fifty. Worst of all, he’s not even drinking martinis, instead slumming it with a Heineken, a refreshment choice made shocking once you consider that beer has never touched 007’s lips thus far in the films.
The extent of his rut is highlighted by the film’s funniest gag. At a beachside watering hole, a roaring crowd cheers on Bond, as he raises a belt of dark liquor, while a scorpion rests precariously on his drinking hand. He conquers the feat with gusto, draining his drink, and trapping the critter beneath his glass, while the locals cheer on wildly, and he orders another round. It’s a familiar scene of James wowing strangers with his all-encompassing cool, the way he has countless times before, and it seems like the cure for what ailed him was just a trip to the bar…until the shot smash cuts to Bond in the same bar, only in the middle of the day. He’s all by himself, slouched over the bar, resting his head on his arms glumly, suggesting that what we just saw was merely a daydream. Craig’s gotten the chance to play with Bond’s emotions more wildly than anyone, but a self-pitying 007 is a truly alarming sight.
It’s a bold joke, considering that it suggests we’re actually seeing inside Bond’s head for a moment, an unprecedented move for a franchise this narratively simple, so purists can argue that the cut is merely marking a transition of time. Sticking with the theme of reflection that Skyfall develops though, the joke works like a narrative glitch in the system, as though the difficulty with which James handles his newfound sense of introspection is so great, that his instability impacts how it is we view his world. Realizing that he’s hit rock bottom in retirement faster than when he fell off that bridge in Turkey, Bond finds his salvation via a news cast in the mirror, reporting on a terrorist attack in London. A bombing at MI6 headquarters poses a serious national security crisis for Queen and country…and also provides the perfect opportunity for Bond to get back into action, and try recapturing the mojo that defines him.
After all, who is Bond outside of his job? Removed from all the world-saving excitement that comes with being a secret agent, he’s really nothing special; you could mistake him for a dime a dozen, good-looking older man type, the kind that flirts with college girls on spring break in Miami. Age is what everyone at MI6 sees in Bond upon his return, as both he and M are seen to be holdover relics from the time of boots on the ground operatives, ones in need of rapid replacement by satellites and drone strikes. The new zeitgeist being pushed by M’s incoming replacement, Mallory, is in ironic contrast to MI6’s replacement base of operations, a bomb shelter from when Churchill was under attack in WWII, a look familiar to those who saw last year’s Cold War-thriller throwback, Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy.
The movie pairs Bond’s existential crisis with rarely seen physical vulnerability, as he fails his way through aptitude tests covering the usual running, climbing, interrogation, and, most embarrassingly, shooting, that make for an agents employable skills. Bond looks more like a hapless henchman than a OO as he wings shot after shot wide of a range target, so even he’s a little surprised that M clears him for duty. This reignites a confidence in Bond that pretty much evaporated the moment M decided he was expendable enough to be shot by his own people, while also reminding us of the pair’s battle-tested relationship. M’s decision is partly self-serving though: she and Bond are both professionals, and M knows that the only way to prove her relevance, is by making sure her methods, and her agent, get the job done.
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