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-

From Russia with Love (1963) and The November Man (2014)

Sean Connery-era classic Bond “From Russia With Love” (1963) is unapologetically mean, early 1960s fun and danger, crude indeed, the absolute best of the 007 series as our hero knowingly enters a trap to snatch a top secret Enigma-code like device from the Russians. 

Except it’s not the Russians setting the trap, its SPECTRE, the terrorist group led by an unseen Blofed and fronted by a blonde thug (Robert Shaw) who seems to embody a Hitler Youth fantasy and a madwoman fascist (Lotte Lenya) with a steel-toe kick. Connery nails the film without lifting an eyebrow or breaking a sweat. His train car tussle with Shaw is one of the best fight scenes ever, and “Russia” only gets better with a boat chase, a helicopter terror hunt, and a finale inside a hotel room. It’s perfect cool. 

Now, later Bond man Pierce Brosnan goes all wrong in the forgettable, drab “The November Man” (2014) as a professional assassin who trains his protégé to never fall in love and birth children, and then secretly… well, you know. Right? I mean, here’s a spy film where you can guess every next spy-plot twist and sit back and watch it. Yawning. Brosnan is too good for this.

Russia: A November: C-

North by Northwest (1959)

I forgot just how funny Alfred Hitchcock’s early, genius spy-flick thriller “North by Northwest” is, until a recent watch on cable. Coolest Man Ever Cary Grant plays NYC ad guy Roger Thornhill, who gets stuck in a giddily preposterous mistaken identity chase across the U.S. of A with silent killers, the CIA, a dame, and Mount Rushmore all to follow. Early in, Grant as Thornhill is seized by two goons who try to kill him via a bottle of bourbon and a fake DUI car crash. Comedy gold hits: Smashed-ass Grant drives his way to jail, where his first and only call is to his mother. Literally, his mommy. Roger’s indignant. The cop near busts a tooth smirking. Hitchcock and writer Ernest Lehman (“Sweet Smell of Success”) turn 500 screws, add in murder, a mystery woman (Eva Marie Saint) with stranger/train sex on her inscrutable mind, and James Mason as a smooth villain with his own slippery identity. Oh, and that crop duster. So cool, Bond soon ripped it off. Hitchcock is having a cackling ball, yanking his camera to dizzy high spots, and letting Mason “punch” the screen. Knock out. Hitchcock kills it. A+

Goldfinger (1964)

“Goldfinger” is arguably the high-point of Sean Connery’s run as James Bond, when the series stormed pop culture and the world. It’s also damn awkwardly dated as far as the women go as it plays with forced entanglement as foreplay. Take a breath, it is of its time period. The plot –- unlike later, unnecessarily busy Bond films -– is simple: Bond must track down gold smuggler Auric Goldfinger (Gert Frobe) who has a perverse idea about knocking out Fort Knox so that he can take control of the world’s gold market. Or some such. Who cares? The bad guy’s pilot/dame is named Pussy Galore (Honor Blackman). And Bond’s first bed quest ends up smothered in gold paint. There’s also a mad granny with a machine gun, and that Aston Martin, plus Oddjob and the killer bowler hat. It’s camp entertainment delivered dead pan, and that’s missing in the newer run, for better and worse. Connery is effortless. Bond is Connery, and Connery is Bond, is there any argument? And as Goldfinger, Frobe is a plain-spoken man of evil, but a man. No disfigurement. No foamy outbursts. Just a snake. The crazy good music? That’s never been better. A-

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-

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