Spectre

Spectre is the 24th Bond film, and judging by Daniel Craig’s jaded attitude during press junkets, most likely the star’s penultimate portrayal of the iconic spy (he’s under contract to star in at least one more film).
Perhaps it’s this combination, or just the knowledge that the slick and sophisticated Skyfall acted as a tonal reboot of the cheese-friendly franchise, but a palpable awareness of past and future seeps through every frame of Sam Mende’s ambitious, brooding feature.
Playing on ideas of Bond’s hidden memories and repressed identities, with a winking sense of nostalgia for previous incarnations of Ian Fleming’s tuxedo-clad spy (and a nice Proustian reference thanks to Lea Seydoux’s Madeleine Swann), Spectre builds on the deep psychological insights that were revealed in Skyfall. This installment also lets the characters feels their age – Craig’s Bond has become icier with every year and murdered lover, and he’s now facing younger threats (a new car is being reserved for 009, much to his chagrin), as well as new technology he doesn’t quite understand.
The villain this time round is a surveillance system, masterminded by Andrew Scott’s Denbigh – but Bond is also facing down a far more personal nemesis. Christoph Waltz beings his deliciously quiet and sinister energy to evil organisation kingpin Franz Oberhauser, a disconcertingly calm figure with a blood-chilling motive.
The performances and setpieces are superb, placing Bond in constant emotional and physical struggle, complete with helicopter- set wrestling matches, a torture scene textured with tensions, continent-jumping from the Austrian Alps to Morocco and Marrakesh, and a stunning five- minute tracking shot through Mexico City.