Writing’s On The Wall

There is something terribly fascinating about James Bond and the 007 brand. Be it the image of the forever-dapper English gentleman, always clad in impeccable tailored suits, with models (literally) falling in his arms, and his constant shield of calm and cool, never dripping one speck of sweat, not even after he’s fought and beaten a whole army of villains. Whatever it is, I love it.

Yesterday, hubby and I went to see Spectre at the local cinema theatre. Coincidentally enough, the last film we went to see at a cinema together was Skyfall, and that was back in England. Wanting to see the latest Bond film was on top of our to-do list, but somehow life took over and we forgot about it. Till yesterday. In 45 minutes we managed to get ready, leave the children in the hands of their loving grandmothers, and catch the movie from the very beginning.

I like Daniel Craig. I love his build and features, his haughty look and confident walk. The majority of people I’ve talked to don’t agree with me. Most women mention Pierce Brosnan, someone whose charm I never saw or understood. It’s all about preferences. You can keep Pierce Brosnan. I’m just fine with Daniel Craig.

Spectre starts off in Mexico, and continues in Rome, Tangiers and of course, London. A James Bond is nothing without the exaggerated fights and the last-second miracle which always saves him and the woman accompanying him. Agent Q features again this time round, in a more important role than in Skyfall – something I’m not complaining about. And this time round Christoph Waltz is the 007 villain. I loved him in the Tarantino films, especially in Inglorious Basterds and Django Unchained, and I did a small ‘yay-dance’ when I saw him this time round. Monica Bellucci doesn’t appear for as long as I thought she would, and instead we see more of Léa Seydoux. She gives this Bond film a feel of 1940s elegance, with her looks and outfits and way of moving.

Yes as with all James Bond films, I did enjoy this 007 film. They’re never meant to be award-wining films, but they’re meant to entertain you and watch it with a smile, because you know that whatever happens James Bond always ends up with the girl, the crease-free suit and the car.


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