Cary Joji Fukunaga

No Time To Die is more of an event than a movie, but that’s the territory with James Bond. Fans waited 18 months to see the film and everyone knows it’s Daniel Craig’s last time at bat as the famed British spy, so the film came freighted with massive expectations. Luckily, it’s hugely entertaining — with explosive action, wild car chases, fascinating spy gadgets, beautiful women, evil villains, somewhat incomprehensible plotting and many narrow escapes — but this time out with a whole new level of emotional engagement. Writing about women and film is what we do around here, so it’s important to note that Phoebe Waller-Bridge (Fleabag) reshaped the story with the blessing of all concerned, including Daniel Craig, who described her as a “fucking great writer” to the Financial Times.

Daniel Craig’s tenure as James Bond that began 15 years ago with the elegant Casino Royale, ushering in a tough, charismatic 007 ends five films later on more of a whimper than a bang. Entertaining, if overlong, a weak villain and a third act that could have used a rewrite that put some thought into where you might go when you’ve written yourself into a corner betrays Craig’s swan song. He deserves better than this; so, does Bond.

Daniel Craig’s 007 movies follow a distinctive character arc, feature formidable women and not just “Bond girls,” and show a Bond that is feeling his age, not to mention the physical wear and the emotional tear of his “licensed to kill” career.  

For Daniel Craig’s final performance as James Bond, he still has his license to kill, Aston Martin DB5 and enough weaponry to subdue countless henchmen. This 25th installment begins with a Norwegian backwoods flashback as a helpless, young girl witnesses a mysterious, masked killer stalking her and her mother, determined to wreak revenge for what her father did to his family.