No Time to Die

 

At its best, the James Bond 007 series has celebrated clear-eyed heroics in service to humankind. At its worst, it's been about the objectification of women and the diminishment of actual threats to life for cartoonish perils and psychotic villains who were more mincing than menacing.

The Daniel Craig era maintained the testosterone of the classic Sean Connery series and amped it up even more with phenomenal physical feats that Craig insisted on doing himself. Now that the Craig era is over -- and good for him for bowing out on a thunderous high note -- the question for some has become what and who is next.

I don't care as much about those as some -- as the decision will no doubt be focus-grouped and tested for optimal bankability -- because the latest feature is such a whiz-bang send off, with delightful grace notes for diehards (look for Craig's delivery of the signature Bond turn and fire during the last reel) and tips of the cap to the Bond legacy and the actors who breathed so much life into the most recent iteration -- Craig, Jeffrey Wright as Felix Leiter and Judy Dench as M -- by those who, presumably, will carry the torch.

This story of No Time to Die, directed with finesse by Cary Joji Fukunaga, features a "retired" Bond being matched with the new 007 (a sleek Lashana Lynch) to pursue a scarred and vengeful madman (a deliciously understated Rami Malek) who has plans to rid the world of all that he finds upsetting (which is to say most things) using biological warfare created by a Russian scientist (a hilariously madcap David Dencik). Complicating the chase is Bond's lost love Madeleine (Léa Seydoux) who is harboring a secret present and past.

The action sequences are, as expected, pretty epic, and, in keeping with most films in the series, high on body count but low on bloodletting -- to retain that PG-13 rating -- and the tender moments are not mushy or clanging downers but hearty hails for jobs well done. Bravo.