The Mythos and Future of James Bond and Why No Time to Die is the Greatest Bond Film Ever Made
Universal
Given where we are in our culture right now - considering seriously the prospect of a non-white or female James Bond (or both a non-white, female James Bond) - it’s amazing to remember that, 16 years ago, gatekeeping purists of England’s deadliest fictional character were up in arms about the hair color and height of the newest 007.
Yes, a considerable amount of people were outraged by the fact that James Bond would be played by a *gasp* blonde-haired, tall(ish) white man, and not a dark-haired, taller white man.
Piercing blue eyes and chiseled body be damned, diehards of Ian Fleming’s love machine with a license to kill thought Daniel Craig was too blonde and too short to fill the finely polished shoes and custom-tailored dinner jacket of the character, passing over him with all the shallow pickiness of a Tinder user.
I could see them now, swiping left on Craig for being above average at 5’10, but not above above average at 6’0.
However, it didn’t take long for Craig to prove naysayers wrong. Introducing your version of 007 to the world by breaking a porcelain sink with someone else’s face tends to make believers out of doubters.
Couple that with the frenetic opening chase scene and subsequent credits set to Chris Cornell’s aptly titled “You Know My Name,” 2006’s Casino Royale converted anyone who thought Craig wasn’t fit for the role.
Outside of the benign differences in physical traits, he had all the traditional markings of the famous spy. He was clever, stoic, deadly, and debonair. Mr. Steal Your Girl was his typical womanizing self, seducing a married woman and smugly joking about it with another woman he planned to seduce later on.
He was, to put it simply - the same white savior he’s always been. A lady-killer with a license to, well - kill.
But even as he showed flashes of previous 007s, it was clear by the end of Royale that we were dealing with a different Bond.
Falling for, getting burned by, and subsequently developing emotional baggage over one of his conquests wasn’t a traditionally James Bond move.
Sure, the character got married in 1969’s classic On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, but this was different.
This was a vulnerable Bond, seriously considering leaving the espionage game over a woman he barely knew, and getting emotional when things didn’t exactly go the way he planned.
It was like Bond had channeled his inner Drake. “In My Feelings” wouldn’t be on any previous James Bond’s playlist, but there we were.
And here we are - 15 years removed from that moment, living in a much different world culturally. And thankfully, so is Bond himself.
After the painful, nearly-unwatchable Quantum of Solace that followed Casino Royale, the tour de force of Skyfall, and the uneven mediocrity of Spectre, we find ourselves in the midst of Daniel Craig’s swan song. And what a song it is.
No Time to Die is not only Craig’s best Bond film - it’s the best, most important Bond film in the character’s near-60-year onscreen history.
Through an admittedly inconsistent 5-film arc, one thing has always remained a constant: Daniel Craig’s Bond is the closest thing to a fully-formed human being the character has ever seen, and No Time to Die builds its entire framework around that fact.
Before I dive into the uniqueness of No Time, let me assure you that this film ticks all the boxes of a standard 007 outing.
An eccentric megalomaniac trying to destroy the world? Check.
Exotic locales that span entire continents? Check.
High octane chase sequences and expertly choreographed fight scenes? Check.
Cool gadgets, beautiful cars, and even more beautiful women? Check, check, and check.
It’s not that those elements are new to the franchise, it’s simply that No Time elevates them to new heights.
Director Cary Joji Fukunaga’s vision, realized by cinematographer Linus Sandgren, provides a sense of heft and scale to every scene. Everything is done deliberately and with the confidence of MI6’s finest himself. From the warm yellows and browns of Southern Italy, to the deep blues of Cuba (in a scene stolen by Ana de Armas to such a degree, fans are calling for her to have her own spinoff), everything is beautifully shot and adds significant texture to the film.
It’s not just the stunning visuals. The amount of action packed into the film is technically impressive (one long shot in particular in the third act is award-worthy in and of itself), and given that the film clocks in at a whopping 2 hours and 43 minutes, the potential for fatigue is baked into the runtime, and pacing is vital. Fukunaga balances the action and the dialogue-driven scenes with a fine craftsmanship, and the film never really feels as long as it is.
And it’s those moments between the action where the film truly shines.
For the most part, the plot is formulaic, but the few surprises it does have are huge, and executed perfectly. But it’s not the visuals, the action, or the plot that carry this film, but rather, Bond’s relationships with everyone around him. Fukunaga taps into the nuanced humanity of Bond in a way no director before him ever did, and in doing so, has all but changed the narrative course of the character forever.
And it’s for that reason that I consider this the greatest Bond film of all time.
As technology, geopolitics, and pop culture have changed, one thing’s always stayed the same - James Bond has been a suave, sophisticated, arrogant white man with all the answers. He’s one of the last remaining relics of a world past.
But Fukunaga’s Bond is different. He doesn’t have all the answers. He’s initially hesitant to be a team player, especially in the face of 007 agent Nomi, a Black woman also known as his replacement - but in the end, puts his ego aside and plays his position, and eventually acknowledges Nomi as an equal. He also views Ana de Armas’ CIA agent Paloma as an equal. The women of this film aren’t objects waiting to be conquered. They’re partners to help conquer objectives.
The racial, gender, and even sexual representation (it’s strongly implied one of the main characters is gay) in the film, with an Asian-American director at the helm, have showcased the most diverse Bond film in franchise history, and does so in a way that doesn’t at all feel performative. No one brings up their marginalized experiences, and James Bond’s whiteness isn’t on trial. These are all professionals simply working together as equals in order to save the world.
And it’s for that reason, that I just can’t see the next James Bond being yet another white man. There’s nowhere for that iteration of the character to go after this one. Craig has exhausted the depths of the character to such a degree, anything similar would seem like a cheap knockoff, and anything less developed will come across as campy and tone deaf.
And besides, we already have a ton of white action heroes whose names start with the letter J.
Jason Bourne. John Wick. John Rambo. Jack Bauer. Jack Reacher.
The world won’t end if just one of them has a darker skin complexion next time out. Or identifies as a woman.
For all the suspension of belief we’re supposed to have when it comes to action films, the one thing that’s supposed to be most realistic is that the only people capable of saving the world are white men. In 2021, that has to change.
No Time to Die isn’t just a brilliant sendoff for Daniel Craig’s James Bond. It’s a sendoff for what James Bond used to represent.
Throughout his cinematic history, Bond was tasked with boldly going above and beyond in the name of Queen and country, even if it killed him.
It’s time now, for those in charge of managing the James Bond property, to boldly go above and beyond as well.