The Wibbly-Wobbly, Timey-Wimey Bond Lineage
The process of 007 replacement is not unlike that of Doctor Who, another British mainstay, wherein the character doesn’t die, but “regenerates” when mortally wounded, altering in facial features and attitude, but maintaining the same identity. We never saw Connery gunned down in Diamonds are Forever, and only Ms. Bond died at the end of On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (and Bond probably isn’t an immortal, time-traveling alien, though it would explain a lot), but it’s never addressed explicitly in the fiction why the man who is James Bond changes every decade or so. A favorite pet theory suggests that the name James Bond is just a code name, passed down from one MI6 agent to the next; For all its surface logic, the notion is disputed by plenty of evidence to the contrary, among the most pertinent being that Casino Royale details Bond’s entrance into the OO program. The question only gets more muddled when references to the time of the old Bonds get thrown in, even though Skyfall proves rather definitively that 007’s Christian name is James Bond.
So where does that leave bullet-riddled and drowning Craig? If we treat Casino Royale as an on-ramp into the modern part of Bond’s continuity, with a gap separating it from – but not erasing – the old films, then we can say that the rules of Bond death have changed to match the style of the 21st century. Instead of happening between installments, the process of regeneration is what makes for Bond’s journey in the film, forsaking a physical change in 007 for a spiritual one. Appropriate to the film’s theme, Skyfall poses Bond’s rebirth as a struggle between old and new, the poles apart worlds that are set to collide. Casino Royale was a fresh start ready to take the franchise in a whole new direction, but following the confused, hot-blooded teen years of Quantum of Solace, Craig’s Bond saga is finally ready to reconcile with the legacy it so eagerly bucked barely five years ago.
A struggle with identity makes for the refrain of the title sequence, one drenched in grave imagery, equal parts metaphorical, and literal. A flurry of gun range targets in Bond’s image are seen tattered, destroyed, and swaying lifelessly at the bottom of the ocean, reappearing amidst a sea of flames that remind you of the final destination for guys with a body count like Bond’s. Whether the other cutouts are fellow agents, or his past incarnations, Bond definitely has company in hell, but brief flashes of a faceless, chair-bound man, writhing in agony, would indicate there’s a punishment specific for no. 6 (both Casino Royale and Skyfall feature scenes of Bond at his most vulnerable when seated). He even has his own Persephone-like figure guiding him through the underworld, and a shadowy devil hounding him, who is later revealed as the film’s villain.
The montage is meant to evoke the death of Bond’s mind, not his body (a tomb with Bond’s name on it is really a cheeky bit of misdirection), and works on a basic level as a stylish appetizer for what’s to come, repurposing snippets from the big setpieces to show Bond fighting himself, both past and present. He fires at his own shadow in the London underground, and has a Man with the Golden Gun-style shootout with the mirrors from Shanghai, but the most striking moment occurs after the fiery torture, when the style shifts to something more retro. The mix of Casino Royale’s graphic novel silhouettes, and Quantum of Solace’s CG vistas, is interrupted by a cascade of dancing girls, guns, and morbid symbols, a callback to the hyper-sexualized, trippy visuals that used to be a Bond movie’s way of saying hello.
A close-up of Bond’s eye, encased within the titular Skyfall Manor that is later revealed to be this Bond’s childhood home, occurs twice. During the first zoom, Skyfall is intact, but Bond’s eye quivers and twitches. On the second pass that closes out the title sequence though, the ancient building crumbles under a bloody hellfire, but Bond doesn’t so much as flinch, making his true mission for the film clear. James Blonde, 007 version six, Craig, whatever you call him, must destroy his individual past, and make peace with the collective baggage of his storied 50 year-old identity. Skyfall tasks itself with synthesizing the more personal, emotional Bond we’ve seen in the last two Craig films, with the iconic embodiment of pulp heroism and adventure made popular in the twenty films before Casino Royale.
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