No Time to Die

Bond has never been progressive in the sense of setting trends or coming up with anything new, and the films starring Daniel Craig are no different in that respect. This is most evident in the action sequences, where we find nothing that is particularly ground-breaking or unprecedented (compared to the rival Mission: Impossible franchise). The action in Bond movies adopts and very well applies current trends set by other films – from Casino Royale with its opening sequence referencing the contemporary fashion of parkour films, through the Bourne-esque formalistic chaos of Quantum of Solace, to the staircase one-shot of Atomic Blonde. And the same is true of everything else, including the (social) media hype around having Bond played by a woman. The franchise’s creators are aware of Bond’s contradictory position in the contemporary cultural world, where progressivism, emancipation and representation are more prominent, and they incorporated a reflection of that world into the narrative within and around the film. It is certainly worth mentioning the shift within the franchise, where for the first time there is a complete absence of blatant objectification, as well as the need to question or at least comment on whether female characters can be equally as capable as the male characters (which distinguished the first emancipatory instalment, Tomorrow Never Dies, as well as the Craig-era Skyfall). In contrast to all of the progressive elements in No Time to Die, however, the traditional concepts prevail in the end and the whole film remains disturbingly cautious and conservative at its core. To find a contrast, it suffices to recall how iconic characters and franchises were dealt with in the iconoclastic and truly progressive Mad Max: Fury Road and Blade Runner 2049. In comparison with those films, the makers of No Time to Die not only fail to tone down the fantasies and ideals of Bond and the audience, but rather continue to reinforce them. Though the film likably acknowledges that this world no longer belongs only to men, it still revolves entirely around Bond. In the end, all of the female characters eventually vacate the space without discussion so that the hero can stand out and walk away with a grand show of action and emotion. Bond thus remains a hero built on male myths of exclusivity, predestination and irreplaceability, even though there are various comments around him indicating that the iconic codename no longer belongs to him. But either he confidently shrugs it off by saying it’s “just a number” or others tell him that he is still the only one who deserves it. Despite all of his broadly proclaimed but, in reality, superficial emotional depth, Craig’s Bond remains a boomer character at his core. Though he makes the changing world around him familiar to similar devotees of the old order, he also manifests the dream that they can pass through that world with grace, with their heads held high, and everyone will still shed a tear for them. Unsurprisingly, bidding farewell to one portrayer of Bond is strikingly similar to saying goodbye to the first generation of Marvel films, which also began with the promise of a relatively fresh drive and ended up as teary-eyed dad cinema. It is logical that every franchise evolves with its contemporary audience. In spite of that, I am fascinated by the fact that Craig’s Bond movies have, for many viewers, apparently successfully humanised a character that was originally created as a campily exaggerated caricature, and still remains so at its core. Unfortunately, I have never believed its “emotions” and I found it rather laughable in its fake solemnity. P.S.: The inflated hype around who might be the next 007 is eloquently ridiculed by the trailer for Casino Royale (1967). (10/01/2021) (less) (more)