Skyfall

Returning to MI6 after an extended hiatus, a damaged and depleted James Bond (Daniel Craig, obviously) is forced to undergo a series of psychological evaluations. A word association test provides a Cliff’s Notes introduction to the infamously enigmatic character. Country? “England.” Heart? “Target.” Murder? “Employment.”
Skyfall? Superb.
Combining emotional depth, breathtaking visuals, thrilling action and some cheeky nostalgia, Sam Mendes’ serious and sophisticated Bond is a world removed from Quantum Of Solace’s dour, Bourne-like vibes. Here, 007 is most definitely back. Sidekicks M (Judy Dench, fantastic and thrust to the fore) and Q have returned, the latter played with precocious, nerdy aplomb by Ben Winshaw. There are respectful and hilarious nods to earlier films, and despite the usual array of exotic locations, Mendes succeeds in bringing the trademark Britishness back to Bond, both in the dry tone and the many gorgeous shots of London.
In fact, the whole film is a visual feast, with stunning Blade Runner-esque silhouetted fight sequences, lavish portrayals of upmarket Asian extravagance, eerily isolated islands and the earthy beauty of Scottish moors.
However, Mendes never sacrifices substance for style, and Skyfall offers far more psychological and emotional complexity than 007 is usually allowed. Bond’s orphanhood is explored in depth, while his nemesis is also granted similar levels of intellect and motivation. Javier Bardem is camp and chilling as the sexually ambiguous, Hannibal-style genius Silva, whose Freudian issues with M provide a truly sinister and believable edge to his maniacal plots. Silva’s hacking-based methods of destruction also serve to ground Skyfall in the realistic and therefore palpably threatening realm of terrorism and cyber warfare.
There are some problems: the third act is over-long, the product placement often cringeworthy and Adele’s brilliant theme aside, the score lacklustre.
Nonetheless, Craig and Mendes prove that a shaken Bond is all the more stirring.