FILM REVIEW

AT the start of this month, and at long last, the new Bond film opened and premiered in cinemas, almost two years late. The key four-letter word, however, is not late or even Bond – but long. At almost two and three-quarter hours, No Time To Die is the longest 007 movie ever. Your mission is to control your bladder.

As it happens, many enthusiasts will find no time to check their watches, let alone go to the loo. The drama pulsates from beginning to end, and never sags.

Film Trailer –

Director Cary Fukunaga co-wrote the screenplay with regulars Neal Purvis and Robert Wade, with Fleabag creator Phoebe Waller-Bridge brought in to add a touch of effervescence and sparkle. Together, they fill No Time To Die with references, some direct, others mischievously oblique, to previous Bond films. Either visually or verbally, there are conspicuous nods even to golden oldies such as Dr No, From Russia With Love, Goldfinger, On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, Diamonds Are Forever and The Spy Who Loved Me. Devotees – a far nicer word than anoraks – will undoubtedly get a big kick out of spotting them.

As well as being fun, this self-reverence – given Bond’s background – serves a purpose: we might even call it naval-gazing. It reminds us of 007’s lineage, which is clever, because in many ways, one or two of them are downright startling. Daniel Craig’s James Bond bears an ever-dwindling resemblance to Ian Fleming’s creation, and indeed to Sean Connery’s original screen interpretation.

The transformation began in Craig’s first outing as Bond, Casino Royale (2006), and continued in his subsequent three. But for his valedictory outing, the writers, and Craig himself, have gone much further. Bond in No Time To Die is still a hardened killer but also 00-woke: lovelorn, sentimental, and every bit as touchy-feely as steely.

Yet there is plenty to enjoy for Bond traditionalists. Starting with a gripping pre-titles sequence, we are whisked back in time to a French-speaking household in rural Denmark. If you discern an anti-Brexit agenda at play, you will probably not be wrong.

Then we learn how, as a child, Madeleine Swann (Lea Seydoux) first encountered a creepy assassin called Lyutsifer Safin, who beneath his scary mask has a horribly scarred face. Thinking back to Spectre and Skyfall, a study of recent Bond villains could sustain a whole dermatology conference.

But there is reason for Safin’s disfigurement, and, in any case, he’s bent on ensuring that millions end up in an even worse state; he’s got his evil mitts on a devastating biological weapon that targets people according to their DNA and peppers them with bubonic boils, before killing them. Brutal.

Oddly enough, the weapon has been pilfered from an MI6 lab in London, where it was being developed for slightly more benign purposes. This is a great embarrassment for M (Ralph Fiennes), who is not at all thrilled when Bond comes out of retirement in Jamaica to lend a hand, uneasily joining forces with a new crack 00-agent (Lashana Lynch).

For the first half-hour or so of the movie, this plot may well leave you baffled: as hard as you may try to understand what is going on – try explaining why Bond leaves Jamacia for Cuba, where he finds himself in a nightclub with revellers dying all around him after the release of some sort of gas and aided and abetted by a rookie CIA agent (Ana de Armas). The exposition, however, comes later, with everything becoming clear, or clear-ish. If anyone tries to tell you No Time To Die is easy to follow, get them to take a lie-detector test. It’s a complicated script.

To help you, and hopefully without adding any spoilers, it’s worth explaining that Safin’s chief target is none other than Spectre, the shadowy organisation still run from a Belmarsh prison cell by Ernst Stavro Blofeld (Christoph Waltz).

SPECTACULAR

WHY do Safin and the incarcerated Blofeld hate each other? Well, the only person the latter will confide in is sexy psychiatrist Madeleine Swann. The cinematic playfulness of No Time To Die appears to extend beyond Bond; a reference even to The Silence Of The Lambs in parts.

Dr Swann and Bond were lovers until she betrayed him. Or so he believes.

And before that he lost another lover, Vesper Lynd. He is in emotional turmoil, which, for reasons that do take us into spoiler territory, only intensifies when he and Madeleine manage to put their differences behind them, leading to an explosive denouement at Safin’s sinister island lair.

Yes, happily there is enough Bond traditionalism in No Time To Die for the baddie to have such a lair, though it’s safe to say the ending is like nothing we’ve seen before.

What we have seen before are great stunts – and there are plenty more here, even if the most spectacular of them has already been seen by millions in the trailer. Swedish cinematographer Linus Sandgren, whose credits include the Damien Chazelle films La La Land and First Man, has done a fantastic job, too.

There is an abundance of talent on display, led of course by Craig, who has been a terrific 007 and will be missed. But the show goes on. Who will become the next and future Bond is a question for another day.

Verdict: Complicated and baffling, but exquisite and brilliantly choreographed ★★★★