Spectre (2015)

James Bond returns and so does another “B” name guy in “Spectre,” Daniel Craig’s fourth 007, starting were 2012’s bloody “Skyfall” ended, with Sam Medes again as director. We open on Mexico City on Dia de Muertos with Bond, silent, glaring, and donning a skull mask as he stalks a man in a white suit. A religious parade blares on the street as Bond creeps on rooftops. “Godfather, Part II” vibes bounce hard. Bond takes his shot. Boom. Shit hits. Roll song. It’s down hill after. The song’s a shrieky-dude bust, and the movie that follows has great moments –- Craig fights a silent, giant killer (Dave Bautista) aboard a train as in “Russia With Love,” but when we get to the big bad in this big data flick, “Spectre” turns into a goddamn joke. And Christoph Waltz -– he of “Inglorious Basterds” fame –- is the punchline. He plays He Who Should Have Remained Unnamed with the lamest motive I’ve seen in years. It’s not “Quantum of Solace” or some other series duds –- what’s the one with Halle Berry? -– but this one flick trashes four. Even new-era champ “Casino Royale.” B-

Skyfall (2012)

James Bond is back in form in “Skyfall” after the dive that was “Quantum of Solace,” a film as meaningless as its title. This third in the Daniel Craig series nearly equals 2006’s “Casino Royale,” the best of the 007 series since the Connery days. The plot: A mystery man from M’s (Judi Dench) past is plunging MI6 and London into chaos, unveiling secret agents and blowing HQ to chunks. The weapons of death and madness are not nukes or giant lasers hidden in volcanoes, but laptops; the trigger is the [ENTER] button. The sword cuts both ways: Both the villain (Javier Bardem, sexually ambiguous in an Oscar-worthy turn) and the new Q (Ben Whishaw) both hawk hacking as their life’s trade, setting old-fashioned Bond off his game. Craig as Bond is at his best when thrown off, clawing back from the dead and irrelevance. The admittedly comic-book plot mechanics clank, but director Sam Mendes (“Road to Perdition”) and his writers invoke the Connery era as if were Scripture, pulling a “You Only Live Twice” stunt and a ’64 Aston Martin homage, and then set a new path for the 50-year-old franchise by tearing down its past. A-

Dream House (2011)

I saw an early trailer of “Dream House” that gave nearly the entire film away. What the ad didn’t spoil: This supernatural, “Oh, shit, we moved into a massacre house” film crashes at the one hour mark, leaving even the great Rachel Weisz acting shrill and lost. Pushing ahead spoiler-free: Daniel Craig plays Will Atenton, a book editor ditching NYC for the rural dream house with his wife (Weisz) and daughters. Pfft. Seems “family murdered” was left out of the realty ad. Directed by Jim Sheridan, with a solid cast of names, this not-horrifying “American Horror Story” story should rock and shock. It fails. “Dream” goes dead flat after that one-hour-mark reveal resets the plot, and then drops an endless series of awful gotch’yas. Worst offense, other than the writing and editing: The great Naomi Watts is wasted in a “helpless woman” role beneath her station. PSA hint: If your train-mate on the way to your new house is Elias Koteas, go the hell back to work. Stay there. C

The Adventures of Tin-Tin (2011)

When Steven Spielberg said he was making a Tin-Tin movie, I was stoked. I was born in England, and although I can’t recall my time there, I did inherit piles of “Tin-Tin” books. The boy reporter and his little white dog, Snowy, are huge there. In America? Not so much. Which is why “The Adventures of Tin-Tin” crumpled at U.S. cinemas. Despite the Spielberg name, some of the best motion-cap animation ever made and 3D effects that make the format a blast of wondrous pop-up fun. The plot is Tin-Tin simple, and very “Young Indiana Jones”: Our ginger hero buys a model ship on a lark and gets wrapped up in a worldwide conspiracy that nearly gets him (and his little dog, too!) killed. Spielberg works with physics-defying action as if he’s thrilled not to worry about reality. It’s all too much, but this is a boy’s adventure. How else to explain a 120-pound boy fighting men three times his size? Bummer news: The ending is a let-down, a promise of cinematic godliness left to a sequel. Jamie Bell is Tin-Tin, Andy Serkis is a drunken ship captain, and Daniel Craig (smartly nasty!) the villain. B+

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (2011)

Back in early 2010, the Swedish film of “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo” – original onscreen title “Men Who Hate Women” – was released in the United States. I loved the grisly Euro thriller about a disgraced journalist teaming with an emotionally scarred female hacker to solve a 40-year-old murder. Now the Americanized remake (re-adaptation?) arrives from director David Fincher, still set in Sweden, but with bigger names. Daniel Craig is the journalist, and Rooney Mara (“Social Network”) is Lisbeth, the hacker. This rock-solid take has a dark chilly mood to spare, and presents a more complex Lisbeth, a woman who has cut herself off from the world, calculating and scarily brilliant, but prone to still sadly eat Happy Meals. Mara makes the role her own, a bundle of disjoints and razor edges, silently raging. She rocks. Yes, it is disconcerting to see big-name actors traipse around in Swedish snow so soon after seeing other actors speak their own language in their own land, but Craig is oddly effective (and nerdy) as an everyman in deep turmoil. Scripter Steven Zallian smartly condenses the long post-climax. Still, check out the original, a true gut-puncher. 2011: A-

Cowboys and Aliens (2011)

Yes, there are cowboys and aliens in “Cowboys & Aliens,” and also Native Americans, too, but that would have been one awkward title, right? “Cowboys & Indians & Aliens”? Movie posters and trailers for this western sci-fi mash-up have teased filmgoers for more than a year, luring us in with the wild idea of James Bond and Indiana Jones/Han Solo on horses blasting six-shooters at alien aircraft that would make Will Smith gawk and run back to Bel-Air.

Having now seen the film, I realize that’s all director John Favreau, his army (five! seven! more? I lost count) of screenwriters, and exec producers Ron Howard and Steven Spielberg had. An idea. Not much else. The movie is fun … kind of, a darkly serious and violent western that begins no different than, say, “High Plains Drifter” or “Rio Bravo.” We have the lone silent hero (Daniel Craig) who stumbles into town, gets himself knee deep in horse poop and ends up in jail. Then the bad guys attack and, oh my spoiler, Mr. Silent turns out to be Mr. Savior. You have seen this before, no? Harrison Ford plays a cattle boss named Dolarhyde, and with a name like that, you know he’s not passing out flowers.

So, yes, the aliens cause shit, lasso people up in the air with metallic wires, and fly off. And Craig’s Man with No Name and Ford’s Dolarhyde must pony up and save the day. The Native Americans come in later. I didn’t get any of their names as the characters are played almost painfully stereotypical. See, decades back, Native Americans were portrayed as savages. Ever since “Dances with Wolves,” Native Americans have been made so damn painfully proud and peaceful, one almost forgets they had a right to be pissed and violent – they were being slaughtered left and right by Europeans after all. That whole historic America was founded as a Christian nation thing that Republicans sell. If Jesus were a land-grabbing genocidal maniac.

Favreau dishes out some cool battles as alien aircraft blitzkrieg men on horses, with the latter being blown into bits in the air, and it all ends in an attack the (alien) fort climax, but none of it sticks. I’m 90 minutes past film’s end as I write this and it’s drifting from memory. There’s no kick, satire or mind screwy emotional power that made “District 9” one of the great surprise films of the past five years, nor is there a CGI effect that wows from eyes to the brain to the soul as did “Avatar.” Heck, check out the 1986 classic “Aliens.” That is a space western.

Planned and written by Hollywood committee, the movie seems to just think the very plot pitch of men named Craig and Ford on horses fighting bad-ass E.T.s is enough to win us over. Sorry. Craig is all glare and slow burn. He makes a damn good and dangerous cowboy – he lords over the rest of the cast. Alas, Ford’s town Thug King is a wash. Just as the character is getting good and bloody nasty, evil even, director and writers suddenly fold and make the guy all grand pop mushy, misunderstood and, well, boring. I bet Ford enjoyed playing the early portions.

Olivia Wilde (TV’s “House”) plays one of the few women on screen – seriously, there must have been a lot of gay cowboys out in this West – and must carry a character so bizarrely left-field, I never bought it. No one in the audience did, either. Laughs abounded. Not kind ones. She listlessly has to carry lines such as, “Don’t look into the light,” I immediately thought of that lady in “Poltergeist.” You know the one, the short woman with red hair. She’d have kicked this film up a notch. It does not help that Ms. Wilde appears as if she has returned from a spa. Her skin and hair are flawless. In 1890s desert. That’s more farfetched than gooey aliens killing hapless cowpokes.

For the record, the idea of cowboys shooting it out with aliens isn’t new, comic books were doing it when my father was a teen and a 1994 cheap flick called “Oblivion” have been there done that. That film was a hoot, a silly toss-off that cost less than the catering budget on “Cowboys & Aliens.” I giggled and cheered the thing as I watched it on a video rental. It’s set in an alternate American future-past and had a far more clever and outlandish plot. You’ll cry from laughter.

This isn’t a bad flick, not by far. An upside down riverboat casino in the Western desert is a brilliant set and design piece. Sam Rockwell entertains as a saloon owner named “Doc.” But when I and my wife walk out at the end of a film that has cowboys, aliens, Indians, spaceships, horses, the guy who directed “Iron Man,” James Bond and Indiana Jones slash Han Solo, and all we can talk about it is how cute the heroic dog was, then, buddy, the burnt coffee and crispy cows on screen ain’t the only thing stinking. (P.S. This is “The Godfather” compared to “Wild, Wild West,” a movie that almost killed a genre and Will Smith’s career. How’s that for a wrap around to the lede?) B-

Defiance (2008)

Director Edward Zwick (“Glory”) has an amazing true story in “Defiance.” In 1939, two Belarusian brothers named Bielski (Daniel Craig and Liev Schreiber) lead a gun-and-blade rebellion against Nazi invaders, while shepherding hundreds of fleeing Jews deep into the dark forest to hide. At first only a handful of Jews come. Then hundreds arrive. For three years. The masses have much else to fear with disease, inner-rebellions, winter and matter-of-fact starvation hovering constantly, also promising death. Those are glorious origins, haunting and heroic, but Zwick still doesn’t trust this story enough. He plays Whack-a-Mole with war movie clichés, including an eye-roller scene where Mr. Bond rides a white horse (!) before his followers, bellowing aloud a maudlin “Braveheart” speech. My face turned blue. An “Exodus”-like retreat ends with our heroes using rifles to battle a full Nazi tank division, and thus history is truncated for “Red Dawn” stunts and action. C+

Quantum of Solace (2008)

***SPOLIERS AHEAD*** After the extraordinary high of "Casino Royale," one of the best James Bond films since the early days of Sean Connery, the new "Quantum of Solace" is a huge letdown. This isn't even a full film, really. It's the didn't know it was missing last act of 2006's "Casino Royale" stretched to nearly two hours and sapped of the spectacular, new Bond magic that Daniel Craig showed in his first outing.

Here, Bond is out to kill every single person involved with the death of Vesper Lynd (Eva Green) at the end of "Casino Royale." That's it for plot. This "Death Wish" mission means Bond taking on the mysterious international terrorist organization known as Quantum. We're promised, but never told or shown, what these people are up to, or who runs them, or why they even exist. They're just dead meat filling screen time. It makes one miss Blofeld.

For reasons not worth explaining, Bond sets his beady eyes and pistol on Dominic Greene (Mathieu Amalric), a rather dull but nasty Euro-businessman who claims to be an environmentalist, but has his eyes set on Bolivia's fortunes. Greene's big caper? He's stealing the country's water and forcing a drought. Sigh. Double-O-"Chinatown." But that's not the saddest part of this 007 entry. Every action scene is edited into oblivion, from a confusing opera house shoot out to an overblown finale at a desert hotel in Bolivia that explodes for no sensible reason. That last fight has Greene going Hulk and smacking Bond around. How's that?

Can all of this be laid at the feet of director Marc Forster, who is debuting in the action genre after making the dramas "Monster's Ball" and "Finding Neverland"? Or on the stunt people who seem to have script control? Whatever the case, there's no 007 charm here, or logic or labyrinth spy thrills, or even a story. Craig brings the same stellar charisma here from "Casino Royale," but he's not given much to do except scowl. This reboot needs a reboot. Stat. Let's hope the next film is better. C

Road to Perdition (2002)

"Road to Perdition" is as far from a comic book movie as one could get, but it's nonetheless based on a graphic novel by Max Allan Collins and Richard Piers Rayner. With a brilliant cast that includes Tom Hanks, Paul Newman, Jennifer Jason Leigh, Jude Law, Stanley Tucci and a star-making turn by Daniel Craig, it's a great film that could one day gain classic gangster film status.

Hanks plays Mike Sullivan, the enforcer of John Rooney (Newman), a small-city gangster who seems to rule his berg like a wise, old and content Al Capone. But the mad, immoral Connor Rooney (Craig) is grabbing for pop's power, and in the process Sullivan's family, save for his oldest child (Tyler Hoechlin), are murdered. Then the chase is on: Mike and son flee to Chicago for help from Frank Nitti (Tucci). Following is a psychopathic assassin/photographer (Law).

The film just isn't about the mafia, guns and murder, although there's plenty to go around. It's about fathers and sons, and the constant loss communications. The Michaels must bond, and learn to trust one another. And John Rooney, who sees Mike as the son he wished he had, rages and then protects the one he was dealt. This was one of the Newman films I watched after his passing, and it's a great final big screen bow. Newman is brilliant, full of fire and evil as a man who knows he's going to hell for his sins, but must bury himself further in a sulfur pit to keep Connor alive. Newman doesn't have many lines, he lets his body language -- sometimes stiff, sometimes slack, sometimes withered, other times in full violent rage -- do the work. He plays the man as powerful, but broken to the core.

Craig, one of a few actors who can almost match Newman on charisma, is a stunner as the evil adult child. Sam Mendes, coming off "American Beauty," has made a great film. Props to Thomas Newman's top-notch score and the rural, open setting of most of the film. A

The Golden Compass (2007)

"The Golden Compass" failed in theaters late last year because many right-wingers accused it of anti-Christian rhetoric. But, they miss the point. The film (I haven't read the book, but desperately want to now) attacks the corrupt Catholic Church that is more interested in its own wealth than God's work, not religion itself. Hell, ever check out the Vatican? Pepsi is the official drink of the place. How's that for God's work?

So, yes, this film plays into my liberal Christian views, and I like it for it. Too bad the story seems rushed, almost too afraid to truly take aim at its target. The film follows orphan Lyra (Dakota Blue Richards) in a parallel universe as she interacts with her uncle (Daniel Craig) and a mysterious mentor (Nicole Kidman). There's much magic, gypsies, and talking, armored polar bears along the way, and not all of it flows well.

Craig's screen time is more of a cameo and Christopher Lee has a two-second appearance as a conspirator, so there's no character development here. The ending isn't as much a cliffhanger as it is simply missing.

It's a fascinating film that has me thinking a thought I rarely ever have, "Where's the director's cut?" I'll read the book. The special effects, by the way, are amazing, as is Kidman as a fascist named Coulter. A reference to the American right wing fascist/bigot named Ann? Maybe, maybe not. Funny nonetheless. C+