How I Met Your Mother (Season 8)

Creators: Carter Bays and Craig Thomas
Starring: Josh Radnor, Jason Segel, Cobie Smulders, Neil Patrick Harris, Alyson Hannigan, Lyndsy Fonseca, David Henrie, Bob Saget(voice)
Original Airdate: 2012-2013

★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

                                                **Spoiler Warning: This Review Contains Major Plot Spoilers**

So, there's this moment that comes at the end of Episode 20 of How I Met Your Mother's penultimate season, titled, "The Time Travelers," in which Barney (Neil Patrick Harris) attempts to persuade Ted (Josh Radnor) to stop moping at MacLaren's and go with him to see Robots vs. Wrestlers: Legends or he'll regret it in 20 years. Before long, future versions of Ted and Future Barney show up to confirm that. Then comes the kicker: Ted's really sitting alone at the bar. Barney, Robin (Cobie Smulders), Lily (Alyson Hannigan) and Marshall (Jason Segel) are all too busy with their own lives to go with him. And all the events that occur in the episode actually happened five years ago, as a lonely, dejected Ted replays them in his own mind.

It'll be 45 days until he meets the mother and Bob Saget's narration informs us that if he could go back, he'd spend it with his friends. Ted imagines himself knocking on the mother's apartment door and introducing himself early, saying he'd do anything to get extra time with her. The entire sequence is Season 1 level quality, proving that creators Carter Bay and Craig Thomas are still capable of pulling off the magic when necessary. The moment encapsulates what's best about the series during another season where not enough of the rest does. It's the first time the end actually feels in sight  while even vaguely addressing crazy fan theories that Ted might be telling this story from a rubber room, or that he and The Mother, down the road, may no longer be together.

We've seen Ted Mosby depressed over the past 8 years, but we've never seen him truly hopeless until now. He's given up and is well on his way to rock bottom, which presumably arrives the weekend of a certain wedding that will somehow end for him in the rain on a Farhampton train platform with "the girl with the yellow umbrella." And now, shockingly, she's here. Bays and Thomas definitely saved their biggest play for last this season and while it's a shame it had to follow nearly three years of wheel-spinning and stalling, it does feel like a giant weight has been lifted off the show by revealing her to us (if not Ted just yet) and insuring we'll be getting to know her a lot better soon. Just doing that is a controversial decision in itself so it remains to be seen just how much that will positively or negatively affect their eventual meeting, which is one of the last big weapons the writers can still claim to have up their sleeves at this point.

Teds and Barneys in "The Time Travelers"

Unmistakably, and no matter what has come before, that meeting will still be a MOMENT. How much emotional impact it'll carry is now up to them and the performance of an untested, little known actress.  But as difficult as it is to digest, there's also a full season's worth of developments that came before that reveal. Well, sort of. Mostly it was just more of the same, with very few exceptions. But the good news is that for the first time in a while things at least look promising for a strong finish. It's certainly no secret that we probably shouldn't even be talking about an upcoming ninth season and this story should have been tighter and wrapped up a lot sooner, but because the show continues to financially thrive for CBS, these are the cards we've been dealt.

Most of the first half of the eighth season is spent cleaning up a gigantic mess the writers got themselves into at the end of a pretty awful seventh season. In their defense, they accomplish this as quickly and efficiently as possible, even if there's no getting around the obvious fact that none of it should have happened to begin with. Robin and Barney are each in committed relationships (though not with each other...yet), Lily and Marshall now have a baby and Ted had shockingly run away with Victoria (a returning Ashley Williams) on her wedding day. Of course, we know that none of these relationships will last, as we've continually gotten flashforward glimpses of Robin and Barney's wedding for the past few seasons. They're interspersed, as usual, with the show's main framing device of Future Ted recounting to his kids (Lyndsy Fonseca and David Henrie) the story of how he met their mother. And it's a story that's become increasingly long-winded and detailed, with seemingly no end in sight, at least until this season's potentially show-saving final shot.

Barney's engagement to stripper Quinn (Becki Newton), Robin's not-so-serious union with himbo Nick (Michael Trucco) and Ted's second go-around with fan favorite Victoria all collapse within a span of five episodes collectively known as "The Autumn of Break-Ups." That this doesn't even qualify as a spoiler of any sort should give you an idea how painfully predictable and unfunny they are, with the only relief coming from the aforementioned Farhampton flashforward in the premiere and the fact that we're now finally freed up get down to business.Why Ted, who was so memorably left at the altar himself, would run away with another man's bride on her wedding day is a question we'll continue to ponder. Along why Victoria was brought back to be labeled as a "slob" and give Ted a Friends-inspired ultimatum. Or why Barney seems to be the only one who can't see that marrying a still working stripper could create an issue.That business at hand is of course the path to Robin and Barney's wedding, which at this point almost has to feel rushed considering they weren't even together at the start of the season. But this is at least one development I didn't mind to see rushed since we already know how it ends up. 

I was curious as to how Bays and Thomas would handle the Barney-Robin engagement and was pleasantly surprised. I half expected a long, drawn-out courtship between the two to kill more time but instead they took a clever, short-term approach I can't completely give away. Let's just say they did a good job getting Barney to the place where he could believably settle down with Robin, without sacrificing the key narcissistic, womanizing, lying, scheming qualities that have made Barney Stinson, as played pitch-perfectly by NPH, such an entertaining character over the past eight years. While I'll never be thrilled with the pairing just out of its sheer predictability and the absurd fan devotion it inspires, they did just about as good a job as they could getting there while their backs were against the wall and the series' future time frame was still very much in the air.

The two-parter (titled "The Final Page") not only works as a welcome callback to classic HIMYM story devices like Barney's "Playbook," but also circles the show back to Ted's inability to let go of his feelings for Robin. Unlike many, I don't have a problem with that at all. That's where the story should be at this point and is in many ways the series' most realistic aspect. Why should he be over her? She's one of his best friends and has done very little overs the years to dissuade him from pursuing her, always keeping him in her back pocket as a possible romantic option in case things don't work out. And even as pathetically as Ted can come across, you almost have to admire his dedication and refusal to give up despite being trapped squarely in her "friend zone." As we know, there's only one person capable of triggering him to let go of Robin and until she shows up I'd say it's fair for the writers to go back to that well as many times as they see fit.

The finale hints he may have found one last ditch attempt to slide back into her good graces, even if it comes at the expense of his friendship with Barney. It's clear that we're definitely headed toward a major Ted-Barney battle in the final season and that feels right given that the two of them have never really sat down and hashed out this Robin situation. One of the season's more memorable images comes when Ted stares out from the window of the building he designed, seemingly a success, yet alone as his best friend proposes to the woman he's still in love with. I also appreciate that they finally gave us an update on that GNB building, Ted's teaching career and the renovation of his dream house in Westchester, all of which haven't been mentioned in what's felt like five years.
                 

Robin as her alter ego "Robin Daggers" in "P.S. I Love You"

From the description of it, you'd figure the series is an hour-long drama instead of a 30-minute situation comedy, but this season does bring some laughs to balance out the angst. Cobie Smulders has consistently proven herself to be the most improved actor of the five and it's become especially noticeable in these latter, weaker seasons. This one at least gives her the opportunity to briefly slip back into her most iconic and hilarious persona and one of the series' most satisfying long-running gags. Robin's not so secret past as Canadian pop sensation "Robin Sparkles" and the resulting flashbacks and music videos have resulted in some of the show's biggest laughs. The episode "P.S. I Love You," in which Barney unearths a Behind The Music-style documentary chronicling her career fall, features an onslaught of inside jokes and hilarious Canadian celebrity appearances (Dave Coulier!), proving the show is still at times capable of channeling its early greatness.

Unfortunately, the same can't be said for the handling of Marshall and Lily's adventures as new parents. It's always been speculated that bringing a baby onto a sitcom can be a death knell, if not a sure sign your show has "jumped the shark" While this doesn't feel like it deserves such a declaration and is more just a reflection of the general course of things, the two sure aren't given much to do this season aside from changing diapers. But that could possibly be considered a step up from the previous season, when the couple was so busy playing house on Long Island that Segel and Hannigan were absent enough to barely qualify as series regulars anymore.

Supposedly, Segel was the lone holdout in signing up for a ninth season, and with a burgeoning film career and Marshall's arc having run its course, he could hardly be blamed if he wanted out. Marshall ends the season with yet another career opportunity (this time for a judgeship) presenting itself just as Lily aspires to follow her professional dreams abroad. Despite being wasted for most of the 24 episodes, Lilly does share a couple of meaningful moments with Ted, which is a relief since their talks have been sorely missed of late. One leads to a surprisingly deep confession from her, while the other unwittingly pushes him further along in his path to meet The Mother. But as absent as Marshall and Lilly may occasionally be from the gang's booth at MacLaren's, it's at least a relief to not to see guest stars filling their seats.

If there's any improvement over the previous  year it's that guest stars are used more sparingly and we don't have a repeat of an underdeveloped character like Kal Penn's Kevin being incorporated into the group for half a season and boring us to tears. Or worse yet, nabbing a huge name like Katie Holmes, only to do little with her. Chris Elliot and Ray Wise make their respective returns as Lily and Robin's fathers, Peter Gallagher appears as Ted's former college professor, Abby Elliot has an arc as Ted's crazy girlfriend, Amber Benson finally gives a face to Barney's long-lost sister, Alexis Denisof briefly returns as Sandy Rivers, Seth Green plays a former classmate of Marshall and Lily's, Mike Tyson shows up as himself, Rachel Bilson cameos as Cindy again, Kyle Maclachlan is back as "The Captain" and Keegan-Michael Key and Casey Wilson make a memorable appearance as an obnoxious couple in the finale. This list is actually pretty conservative by HIMYM's standards. But there's really only one guest star anyone wants to talk about.

A lonely Ted looks out from inside his newly completed GNB building

It's almost surreal finally having a face and an actual name of an actress attached to The Mother. It happened. We saw her. Supposedly, Radnor was pushing very hard for the choice to be relative unknown and, to an extent, I get it. While we all had to throw away our lists of fantasy picks for the role, the fact remains that anyone who isn't complete unknown would carry with them at least some degree of baggage because the audience would already be familiar with them. And it's not hard to like the idea of us meeting and getting to know a fresh face as Ted is since we've been with him on this journey the entire time. Someone unexpectedly sweeping in out of nowhere who we've never seen before dovetails nicely into the show's theme, while giving a working actress, who may not have otherwise gotten a chance, an opportunity to break through to the next level.  You also have to consider that in this age of the internet and social media it would be nearly impossible for Bays and Thomas to plug the leaks and be able to keep anyone resembling a major name a secret from rabid fans. Oh, and they used up every possible actress already. That's the part I most have a problem with because it could have so easily been avoided.

When I first saw The Mother my immediate reaction was one of mild disappointment, the blame of which I'd put at the feet of the writers and my expectations, not Cristin Milioti, who until now was best known for her Tony nominated performance in Broadway's Once, a guest spot on 30 Rock and a big screen credit playing comedian Mike Birbiglia's sister in his 2012 low budget indie gem, Sleepwalk with Me. When she made her entrance to the strains of The Shins' "Simple Song" in the final moment of the season finale, "Something New," I didn't recognize her at all. So, mission accomplished there.  But the disappointment no doubt stems from the usual let down bound to accompany an appearance that's been built up for nearly a decade. Maybe she's just not quite how I expected Ted Mosby's wife to look. Maybe not the right height or weight. Is she not pretty enough? Or maybe she didn't speak exactly how I expected. Then I realized she's competing with nothing except our own imaginations and the unfair expectations the writers have spent the past several years burdening her with.

It probably all goes back to that infamous 100th Episode, "Girls vs. Suits," in which The Mother's then-roommate, Cindy complained to Ted how she just couldn't compete with "the girl with the yellow umbrella" and that every guy she tried to date just instantly fell in love with her. And that was it right there. If Rachel Bilson (who proved she could have handled The Mother role herself) is made to feel insecure and jealous then the idea is already planted in viewers heads to expect the unreasonable. Not helping any is Ted's notoriously high standards and the producers' penchant for stunt casting, as former dates or girlfriends played by Bilson, Holmes, Sarah Chalke, Danica McKellar, Mandy Moore, Jennifer Morrison did set the bar fairly high for the title character despite their characters' obvious faults. Are the writers trying to tell us something by foregoing the temptation to cast a big name actress or a traffic-stopping beauty, but rather a conventionally cute, average girl who seems extraordinary to Ted? I'd say so. We'll see whether the gamble pays off.

Our first glimpse of The Mother, played by Cristin Milioti

It probably would have been impossible for any actress to deliver on all our expectations in just a single moment. Luckily, Milioti will be given more time than that to fulfill those expectations, and she only has to believably fulfill them for Ted, not us. Ultimately, it wouldn't have mattered whether the actress chosen was a huge name or an unknown just as long as she's right for the role. A vocal minority of fans already think she's perfect for this and, if it's any consolation, the reaction to her casting was about ten times more positive than you'd expect given the circumstances. She isn't a disappointment. At least not yet. It just remains to be seen. And we'll apparently be seeing a lot of her as she's apparently joining the cast as a regular in the show's final season to interact with the gang before finally meeting Ted. So this isn't merely a walk-on. It's a lock that we'll be learning more about her side of the story with a whole extra season suddenly available for them to play around with.

The decision to have the final season unfold 24-style during the 56 hours leading up to Barney and Robin's wedding is a a polarizing one. Expect tons of flashbacks and flashforwards to fill in the gaps, lending even more weight to the assertions that this is the Lost of sitcoms, now thankfully minus the mystery. Truthfully, their new approach heading into the final lap couldn't have come at a better time since the main problem plaguing HIMYM over the past few years (besides simply its age) is a tired formula that's enabled Bays and Thomas to take as much time as they need to tell their story with as little forward momentum as possible. But now she's here and they don't have that crutch to lean on anymore. They were smart to finally remove it themselves, even if viewers who have somehow hung in there since the 2005 premiere had already lost patience. Having binge watched the show's previous seasons last year, that level of fatigue hasn't set in for me, but it's easy to commiserate with anyone who decided enough is enough and jumped ship.There's certainly been a nosedive in quality these past few seasons and with it comes a reminder of the kinds of creative problems sitcoms face when they overstay their welcome. But there are few other characters I'd rather have overstay that welcome than these five and most of that has to do with the talented actors who play them. Even as the material has sometimes wavered, their work in front of the camera never has.

Over the years, HIMYM has kind of evolved into comfort television. A familiar place where you can hang out with people you like going through similar problems. And that's why, despite complaints, we keep coming back. When the series concludes there's at least a possibility that it will play well as a whole, marginalizing some of the criticisms that appear to be a big deal now. Whereas the series' seventh season just felt like more filler, this one at least had flashes of the show's glory days interspersed with the mess. And out of that comes potential. The idea that the season 9 may not at all resemble the eight that came before is intriguing when you consider how stale things have gotten. A major shake-up and format change seemed necessary and Bays and Thomas should at least be commended for realizing that if they were planning to go one more season, a whole new game plan had to be implemented. Despite sometimes striking a sour note along the way, the end is finally here, and accompanying it is a feeling of cautious optimism and anticipation longtime HIMYM viewers haven't experienced in a while. The only question left is whether it's come too late.                                    

Smashed

Director: James Ponsoldt
Starring: Mary Elizabeth Winstead, Aaron Paul, Octavia Spencer, Nick Offerman, Megan Mullally, Mary Kay Place, Kyle Gallner
Running Time: 81 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★) 

There are certain actors and actresses you're just a fan of. It would probably be easier to deny it and pretend I go into every movie with complete objectivity, but the fact is that I'm much more likely to watch and appreciate a film starring performers I like and have followed throughout their careers. I want them to make smart choices that confirm my opinions of their talent, and if they don't, it's disappointing. Three of them co-star in James Ponsoldt's Smashed, a film about alcoholism that's really about a descent into sobriety. Mary Elizabeth Winstead, Aaron Paul and Nick Offerman appearing together in a single film reading from a phone book probably would have been enough for me, but here's Winstead giving an award caliber central performance as an alcoholic, Paul as her immature, unsupportive husband and Offerman proving he can inhabit a character that's about as far removed from Parks and Rec's Ron Swanson as possible. On top of that, the film itself is nearly perfect in a straightforward, no-nonsense way that may not be immediately apparent. It plays honestly, but without judgement.

Winstead plays Kate Hannah, a schoolteacher who also happens to be an alcoholic. We see in early scenes that, as the former, she's amazingly kind and patient with the kids and pretty much every parent's dream of who they'd trust with their children. Until, hungover from another night of partying, she vomits all over the classroom floor. The kids ask her if she's pregnant and, panicking, she to lies them and a supportive Principal Barnes (Megan Mullally). It's likely Kate's been an alcoholic for a while but is just now starting to come around and realize it. She's not there yet, but getting close. Hardly helping is her equally hard partying husband, Charlie (Paul) whose complete obliviousness to their situation and terminal complacency are the only qualities making him seem like he doesn't have as much of a problem as she does. Kate's only real support comes from the soft-spoken vice principal Dave Davies (Offerman), a recovering addict not only willing to cover up her lie because he has a big crush, but also willing to take her with him to AA meetings where she meets her sponsor, Jenny (Octavia Spencer). On the road to recovery, Kate discovers sobriety is slowly tearing her marriage apart, as a still drinking Charlie feels left behind and a slew of other problems start to surface.  

It seems to be a commonly held belief about young people that their drinking and drug use will never escalate to alcoholism or addiction, and it carries over into movies where the middle-aged tend to be the most serious substance abusers. It's almost as if young adults are expected to be doing it, and, as a result, should be able to handle it just fine. At the beginning of this film you'd almost be forgiven into thinking so, until a moment comes that's frightening in how well Winstead sells it. Waking up on the street with no idea where she is or how she got there, it's the first time Kate seems legitimately scared and mortified of what she's capable of when drinking. During a memorable sequence scored to Richard and Linda Thompson's "I Want to See The Bright Lights Tonight," we see Kate spend the night smoking crack with a hooker, and it's after that she realizes it's the final straw. But really it's just the beginning. Short-term, her decision to embrace sobriety surprisingly causes more problems than it solves in her marriage and life, while bringing dormant ones to the surface, such as an already strained relationship with her mother (Mary Kay Place).

There were already strong hints of Winstead promise in 2011's The Thing prequel and now seeing this it'll be easier to understand why I suspected that role in Scott Pilgrim was way beneath her. This confirms it. It's almost become a long-running joke that playing an alcoholic is every actor's dream since it invariably leads to awards recognition of some sort, but there's a reason for that. It's difficult to do believably. She doesn't squander the opportunity, knowing that drunk people often behave like delusional sober people, completely ignorant to everything going on around them. And it's the mode she's in for the entire first half of the film, which is no small feat. But it's when the drinking stops that her performance really kicks into high gear, as Kate's eaten with guilt over her sobriety driving a wedge through her marriage. She also has to ward off the advances of confidant and co-worker, Dave, though using the term "advances" is probably stretching it given his struggles talking to women. Offerman leaves all traces of the manly, breakfast obsessed Ron Swanson behind in a really subdued, low-key dramatic performance that still doesn't completely abandon the dry sense of humor he's known for. It proves, unsurprisingly, that he's capable of other things.

Aaron Paul plays Charlie as a good guy, but also one stuck in a complacent holding pattern. In this way, he resembles Jesse Pinkman of Breaking Bad's early seasons (right down to the substance abuse and playing video games on the couch) to the point that he'll probably be accused of just playing a variation on his TV character. But this speaks more to our familiarity with Paul than the actual performance, which is surprising in how he cedes so much of the spotlight to his co-star. Now that Kate's sober, there may no longer be a place for him in her life and they'll have to take stock as to whether they ever had anything that went beyond drinking and partying. We also wonder if she can move past how unforgivably unsupportive he's been in her recovery. But much like Flight, the other 2012 film dealing with alcoholism, Kate won't really be clean until she admits she isn't and takes responsibility for her lies.

Watching Smashed, I couldn't help but wonder how badly it would have turned out if a major studio had released it, interfering to make it more exciting or dumbing it down so a depressing topic like alcoholism could be more cheery and accessible. Thankfully, we'll never see that version and I'm given the opportunity to see three of my favorites given free reign to just tear into this meaningful material with everything they've got. It also marks the first time I've seen a movie character pulled over for driving drunk...on a bicycle. First-time director Ponsoldt makes it happen but it's easy believe the hard part was over once this cast was set in place. It wasn't until the end that I realized Paul and Offerman don't share a single scene together. And that feels strangely like the right call. For the story's purposes, there's no need, so they don't.  But the film ultimately belongs to Winstead, revealing dimensions to her abilities even her biggest fans couldn't have anticipated. And that she does it opposite two of TV's best, only makes the accomplishment seem that much greater.

Lincoln

Director: Steven Spielberg
Starring: Daniel Day-Lewis, Sally Field, Tommy Lee Jones, David Strathairn, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, James Spader, Hal Holbrook, John Hawkes, Jackie Earle Haley, Lee Pace, Tim Blake Nelson, Dane DeHaan, Joseph Cross, Gloria Reuben
Running Time: 150 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

A talky slog through a very specific point in American history, Steven Spielberg's Lincoln probably would have been better served with the title, The Passing of the 13th Amendment or maybe even Team of Rivals, the Doris Kearns Goodwin biography on which it's partially based. Then again, advertising and marketing still wouldn't fix most of the problems associated with a film that makes the 16th President a supporting player in what feels like the world's longest episode of The West Wing.  Where it earns points is in impeccable period accuracy and an Oscar-winning performance from Daniel Day-Lewis that's every bit as impressive as you'd expect and then some. History buffs will eat this up, even if we're left with the nagging feeling that, barring a few notable exceptions, Spielberg doesn't give us anything that couldn't be gleaned from doing some reading.

As much as many reject standard, by-the-numbers biopics on political figures, I couldn't help but think that approach would have actually been welcome here, as the choice to only depict Lincoln's last four months in office (and of his life) seem to be almost too narrow a focus. And yet, that was easily the most interesting period so Spielberg's caught between a rock and a hard place. He responds with his most un-Spielbergian effort yet, completely abandoning the sentimentality usually associated with his work in favor of a straight, emotionless recitation of history. In that sense, the film is a welcome departure, as he makes the wise decision to get out of his own way.  Other than an attempted portrayal of Lincoln as a saintly, Gandhi-like figure (that's mostly transcended by Lewis' riveting turn) there's little that would indicate it's even a Spielberg picture. You'd figure that would be a good thing. Instead, it creates an unusual dichotomy that results in a mild letdown. Albeit a really well-made one. 

The film primarily focuses on President Lincoln's attempts in 1865 to obtain passage for the 13th Amendment to abolish slavery in the House of Representatives. To do this he not only needs the necessary minimum of 20 votes from the Democrats but also, without exception, the full support of the Republicans. It's not as easy as it seems and much of the verbal sparring scripted by Tony Kushner centers around the president's political maneuvering, which is often controversial. Of course, we know he eventually comes out with the win, only to weeks later lose his life to an assassin's bullet, but Spielberg shows the resistance he faced pulling that monumental victory off. Most of those battles involve an unlikely ally in Republican Congressman Thaddeus Stevens (Tommy Lee Jones), who gets to to deliver some of the film's sharpest insults, proving that politics was just as dirty then as it is now. But for all who are in favor of the amendment's passage, there are just as many who aren't. Namely outspoken Democratic Congressman Fernando Wood (Lee Pace), and even the emotional First Lady, Mary Todd Lincoln (Sally Field), whom the President has to constantly placate due to her wild mood swings and fears of their returning son Robert Todd's (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) desire to join the Union Army.

It's a strange complaint to level against a Spielberg film that it isn't emotionally manipulative enough, but oddly, that's the case here. It's a political procedural devoid of manufactured drama, and even as someone who usually appreciates that approach in other genres, it's dry and talky to the point that I sometimes found myself losing patience and just zoning out. A key factor as to why (aside from the material's sheer denseness) is that it just isn't visually interesting. Cinematographer Janusz Kaminski has collaborated with Spielberg many times in the past with enormously successful results, but three quarters of the film is shot in dark, dingy corridors and musty rooms. At times it's almost too dark to even see what's happening, which maybe doesn't matter since, most of the time, not a lot is.  For example, there's exactly one shot of the White House, which is unusual, because if any historical period presented a golden opportunity for sweeping visual grandeur on screen it was this one. Instead, the whole thing feels kind of claustrophobic with most the film confined to offices and courtrooms.

Luckily, we still have Daniel-Day Lewis, who inhabits every scene, telling stories and providing valuable insight into Lincoln's politics and morals. It almost seems as if every revelation that comes forth about the man is contained entirely in his performance. Everything else, we pretty much knew already. He's the reason to see this. The voice, the look, the tone of speaking. There are so many points where you're taken aback by the way he delivers a line and forced to ask yourself, "Lincoln said THAT? Really?" At some points it's actually funny to hear the things that come out of his mouth because we've grown so accustomed to history dictating to us the mythic terms under which he's supposed to be viewed. But Day-Lewis humanizes him, which might end up being the film's greatest success. One of the most memorable moments comes at the start when he's interacting with a pair of Union soldiers reciting to him the Gettysburg Address. It's a transformative performance in search of a better movie that focuses entirely on Lincoln rather than the nuts and bolts of the political process.

Make no mistake that this is all about the 13th Amendment, with non of the other sub-plots even getting off the ground. Unforgivably, a mustachioed Joseph Gordon-Levitt is wasted as Robert Todd Lincoln, while little is explored regarding the President's marriage aside from a shrieking Sally Field making it perfectly clear that the Mary Todd was a real basketcase and the polar opposite of her calm, serene husband. Of the many supporting players, it's really Jones who chews into his role as stubborn Thaddeus Stevens with grumpy gusto, stealing nearly every scene he's in. Top to bottom, it's a loaded cast, with David Strathairn, Michael Stuhlbarg, John Hawkes, Hal Holbrook, Jackie Earle Haley, Tim Blake Nelson, Lukas Haas, Dane DeHaan, Jared Harris, Adam Driver, Walter Goggins and Bruce McGill all contributing in some form or another in wide variety of small and larger parts. More fun than the actual film might be trying to spot and recognize them all. Especially James Spader, who's strangely hilarious as an determined Republican party member lobbying for the amendment's passage.

It's easy to fault Spielberg for continuing a half-hour longer than what would have been the perfect end point or criticize him for a one-sided whitewashing of history, virtually ignoring (with the exception of Gloria Reuben's character) the African-American side of this issue. Both of those are true, but what really bothered me was how he treated, or didn't treat, the assassination. If Spielberg didn't want to show it (supposedly because he thought it would be tasteless, which is a cop-out, but his call), that's fine. But you can't choose not to show it and still fully acknowledge it. If he was going to show it, then he should have. If not, then he shouldn't have. You can't have it both ways. Not with something like that. Instead he does this silly bait-and-switch that ends up drawing more attention to the assassination than if he'd actually reenacted it in all its horror. You could actually argue he fulfills his fear of it being tasteless just by pulling this unnecessary stunt.

Spielberg's one of only a few filmmakers today who can reasonably be considered a "brand."  The accusation that at this point he's just cashing paychecks and trying to collect Oscars isn't entirely disproven with this effort, but the film is surprisingly restrained and refined, representing at least one of his purest, most honest outings in a while. Unfortunately those very same qualities also make it kind of a chore to sit through. Perhaps it's a little too restrained and in need of some of that magic Ben Affleck was able to create with Argo. While some criticized that for "Hollywoodizing" a historical event, there's no denying his approach worked, giving the material a much-needed emotional spin that captivated audiences. In contrast, Lincoln feels more like a homework assignment. One in which students would actually be more excited to read the book.       

Les Misérables

Director: Tom Hooper
Starring: Hugh Jackman, Russell Crowe, Anne Hathaway, Amanda Seyfried, Eddie Redmayne, Samantha Barks, Aaron Tveit, Isabelle Allen, Helena Bonham Carter, Sacha Baron Cohen
Running Time: 158 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

As someone who's usually not a fan of musicals and was completely unfamiliar with Victor Hugo's Les Misérables on stage or screen, here presents that rare opportunity for me to go into a movie cold. Knowing so little about it, preconceived notions tend to disappear, or at least fade as far into the background as possible. But it still turned out to be a more fulfilling and entertaining experience than my few expectations had prepared me for. It's also a bizarre one, as certain creative and technical decisions are made by Academy Award winning director Tom Hooper that will likely raise the eyebrows of even those who care little about these sorts of things. Arguments could go on all day as to whether they enhance or detract from the material, but at the end it may not even matter. Since all fans will remember is whether it remains true to the source, Hooper's preaching to the choir here. Everyone else will likely be more divided, but it's pretty cut and dry what works and what doesn't, as one section of the story clearly surpasses the other. At the top of the list of successes is the inspired casting, followed closely by a sensational opening hour that sets in motion a chain events that spans nearly twenty years and claims more than a few victims. As the running time wears on and the characters start dropping like flies, it's almost too easy to revert to the joke that this should have been titled Les MISERABLE. Few will debate the film starts losing steam after the opening sixty minutes, but there's still a lot to recommend in a story so expansive that there's genuine doubt all the characters could die of old age before the final credits roll.

Opening in 1815, Les Misérables really tells two tales that eventually converge as one giant, sweeping one. The first involves convict Jean Valjean (Hugh Jackman), who's released on parole by prison guard Javert (Russell Crowe), but manages to escape and start a new life for himself, eight years later becoming a factory owner and mayor of Montreuil-sur-Mer in France. When one of his workers, Fantine (Anne Hathaway), is fired and forced to sell her hair and turn to prostitution to support her illegitimate daughter, Cosette (Isabelle Allen) Valjean steps in to become the girl's guardian. Now, years later and set against the backdrop of the French Revolution, Valjean is still being trailed by police inspector Javert while an adult Cosette (Amanda Seyfried) becomes the object of Marius Pontmercy's (Eddie Redmayne) affections, much to the dismay of his good friend, Éponine (Samantha Barks), who harbors a secret crush on him. As Javert draws closer to apprehending Valjean, the political turmoil escalates, putting all their lives in danger as a country's future hangs in the balance.          

The first hour of this film is so strong on every level possible that it was almost inevitable that the remainder of it wouldn't be able to keep pace. And Anne Hathaway's Oscar winning supporting performance as the dying Fantine is the major reason why. She has only maybe a little more than 10 minutes of screen time, but makes the most of each grueling moment, effectively selling her character's rapid descent into hopelessness.  Losing her hair and over twenty pounds, her gut-wrenching rendition of "I Dreamed a Dream" is without question the defining scene of the movie and it's a magic that isn't quite recaptured once Hathaway makes her exit. Was the role predestined, if not calculated, to win her the Oscar? Maybe, but who cares when she's this good.

It's also the best work Jackman's done in a while as a man on the run, shamed by his secret past as a criminal and racked by his own guilt. The decade plus cat-and-mouse game that unfolds between him and Javert is the film's greatest narrative asset, even when being overshadowed by other goings on in the third act. Russell Crowe himself would probably readily admit his singing isn't exactly the most polished in the cast, at times coming across as a strange hybrid of William Shatner's spoken word albums from the '60's and Pierce Brosnan in Mamma Mia! Crowe's not a singer, but because he's such a formidable actor he's able to pull off absolute lunacy with confidence and conviction. Whether it was for the right reasons or not, I looked forward to every appearance he made. As the swindling, manipulative Thénardiers, Sacha Baron Cohen and Helena Bonham Carter feel as if they've just stepped off Tim Burton's set, embodying comedic goth creepiness as the innkeepers mistreating young Cosette and extorting her mother. Cohen is fantastic in the role, making "Master of the House," in which he sings about cheating the inn's patrons, the most raucous and purely enjoyable number in the film. If nothing else, the characters deserve credit for their surprising staying power, as few would guess these seemingly one-dimensional villains figure into the action as much and as long as they do.

Unfortunately, everything comes to a grinding halt once we get to the love triangle, which never seems to take off despite spirited efforts from all involved. Because the time jump is so sudden and jarring, it's difficult to immediately adjust to Amanda Seyfried and Samantha Barks as older versions of the child characters we got to know earlier. But they do well nonetheless. Seyfried, besides being a dead ringer to child counterpart Isabelle Allen in looks, is definitely the best singer in the cast, while Barks, who actually played Éponine on stage, sings and acts her heart out in a role that might not be quite as large as you expected. That her part almost went to Taylor Swift would be shocking if not for the fact that the content of this romantic sub-plot isn't entirely dissimilar to that of her hit songs. As for Redmayne, this marks the second time after My Week with Marilyn that he appears to be a spectator in his own movie as the young lovesick revolutionary. In some ways, Aaron Tveit, who plays his friend and charismatic leader of the movement, Enjolras, makes more of an impression. What saves this section is the music and the fact Hooper gets his act together in time for a strong, emotional finale focusing on the characters we want to see, even if most of them are dead by that point.

This isn't one of those movie musicals that directs itself or is in any way shot like a stage play directly transposed to the screen. Hooper's style is umistakenly "in your face" with weird dutch angles and extreme close-ups that could feel like an invasion of personal space for certain viewers. This is especially true of the Hathaway sequence, where the camera doesn't leave her face the entire time. At times it is too much and it's easy to see why many may not be on board with the approach or feel it's just a filmmaker showing off at the expense of the material. But for me, any bells and whistles were necessary since this was just never going to in my wheelhouse no matter what. The best that could be hoped for was to be sufficiently entertained and Les Mis did deliver that in spades It's never boring or uninteresting. Strangely, it sometimes suffers from the opposite problem, moving a mile a minute with hardly a moment to breathe and take it all in. But as far as problems go, that's a pretty good one to have.          

This is 40

Director: Judd Apatow
Starring: Paul Rudd, Leslie Mann, John Lithgow, Megan Fox, Albert Brooks, Maude Apatow, Iris Apatow, Melissa McCarthy, Jason Segel, Lena Dunham, Chris O' Dowd, Robert Smigel
Running Time: 133 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

First, the good news. Judd Apatow's This is 40 isn't afflicted with the same mean-spirited tone that plagued it's sort of prequel, Knocked Up. And despite featuring two of that movie's more annoying supporting players in more prominent roles, they actually resemble real human beings with legitimate problems this time around. It's also consistently funny with a healthy batting average of jokes hitting their mark. If there's a problem, it's in the allegation that few outside of Judd Apatow and his immediate family will be interested in watching these characters struggle with problems most non-Hollywood residents would probably kill to have. But that's not necessarily his fault. He's clearly writing from personal experience, as is his right, and at no point does he imply this well-off family's problems mirror everyone's. And while it's definitely a bit bloated at over 2 hours, at least it doesn't FEEL too long this time. And it is a gutsy move to make an essentially plotless dramedy consisting of a married couple and their kids fighting, whining, complaining about seemingly trivial issues. And have it work. And be funny. But he does it.

That there's hardly a conventional story to speak of is the film's biggest asset because it allows us to just sit back and observe what essentially amounts to a large-scale dramatic character study doubling as a comedy. Apatow's tried to enter James L. Brooks territory before, but has never fully committed to it quite like this. Rather than re-cap the plot, it's a better idea to just run down the problems of married couple Pete (Paul Rudd) and Debbie (Leslie Mann) who are both turning 40, despite her angrily insisting she's really turning "38." He owns a failing record label that only signs aging rock acts while her clothing boutique isn't exactly raking in the cash either, as she suspecting an employee (Megan Fox) of stealing. Their daughters, 13 year-old Sadie (Maude Apatow) and 8 year-old Charlotte (Iris Apatow) are constantly at each others throats while Pete's frustration grows at having to financially support his father, Larry (Albert Brooks)and his new family. Debbie's relationship, or lack of one, with her estranged dad Oliver (John Lithgow) is even worse, as the two seem barely capable of communicating at all.

The big elephant in the room is that Pete and Debbie are living far beyond their means and it's now putting a huge strain on their marriage. But considering they seem to fight about everything, there are many points where you can't help but wonder how they even got married to begin with. She thinks he's an immature man-child while he can't figure why she's being such a nag. At least the script doesn't offer up any easy solutions and implies right up until the final scene that this is definitely going to take a lot of work. How two characters who were so annoying in just the few scenes they had in the still otherwise problematic Knocked Up could be so much more tolerable and realistic in their own feature film can be attributable to the fact that Apatow's actually forced to flesh them out this time.

As a scattered snapshot of these people's lives, it's very funny, especially when it comes to the nature of their arguments which span from Pete escaping for a half hour on the toilet with his iPad to Debbie insisting on seeking alternative treatments for their daughter's ear infection. But nothing tops the sub-plot involving Pete's struggling record label, in which the film actually makes somewhat of a profound and timely statement on the commercialization of music sure to be recognizable to anyone notoriously picky about their own tastes. As Pete's top act, Graham Parker deserves a lot of credit for being a good sport by playing himself as a washed-up rock relic who peaked years ago.

As far as Apatow casting his own wife and kids in starring roles, there's little to complain about. Leslie Mann's already proven herself talented enough to deserve her slot as co-lead and the girls are a good fit in their roles. That their casting would even be considered a controversy is perplexing when you consider the film is semi-autobiographical to begin with an directors often hire their own friends and family, usually with far worse results. But the big takeaway here just might be Maude Apatow, who displays comic timing that indicates career potential that could extend beyond this movie. She's also given the film's most bizarre sub-plot (which is really saying something) involving her obsession with Lost. As someone tired of hearing all the incessant whining about how disappointed they were by the finale for the past three years, I was just thrilled Apatow took the high road and chose not to go there, instead treating that event with the excitement it did and still does deserve. While Rudd's his usual likable self, it almost goes without saying that Apatow's self-professed comic idol Albert Brooks (in his first post-Drive role) and John Lithgow give the film's two best performances as the deadbeat dads. The latter is unusually cold and restrained, making every awkward scene he shares with Mann feel especially effective.

The sub-plot involving Megan Fox's character potentially stealing is far less successful, yet even more so when dealing with Debbie's envy over Desi's beauty and sex appeal. At the risk of veering into Rex Reed territory, all the work Fox had done to her suddenly unrecognizable face is distracting enough to invalidate the notion of any woman being believably jealous of her character. There's no dancing around the fact she's always been hired for her looks in a certain type of role, but now without that trump card to fall back on, her limitations as an actress are fully exposed. Luckily, Charlene Yi makes up for it with an enjoyably goofy performance as her co-worker. Melissa McCarthy's brief but impactful scenes as a crazed parent fit right in her wheelhouse while Jason Segel's personal trainer and Tim Bagley's gynecologist are really the only two crossover characters from Knocked Up, but are far funnier and better utilized this time around. Lena Dunham and Chris O'Dowd have tiny roles as Pete's friends and co-workers at the label, but make the most of what they're given. As impressive a cast as it is, it somehow avoids feeling overstuffed, with everyone serving as colorful wallpaper in Pete and Debbie's lives.

Whether intended or not, the film does a good job turning the microscope on a certain segment of the population that, regardless of income, is larger than we'd all like to admit: People who think their problems are the worst in the world. And when things get difficult, that could be everyone, considering how quickly we lose perspective. Though that may not have have been the intention, I was still was pleasantly surprised at the ease at which this went down and how few problems there were with it. Lacking an agenda and his usual awkward attempts at blending gross-out humor with unsettling emotional pathos, this could qualify as Apatow's most mature work yet, even if it's still probably far from his best. His biggest problem thus far has been that every project coming down the pike baring his name as producer, writer or director has felt too similar or the tone has been off. There's no such problem here, even if I still say it's criminal for any comedy to come close to approaching the two and a half hour mark. But at least it isn't time wasted. This is 40 is realistically messy, excelling most when making clever observations about the tiny details that make relationships both challenging and humorous.      
         

Life of Pi

Director: Ang Lee
Starring: Suraj Sharma, Irrfan Khan, Tabu, Adil Hussein, Rafe Spall, Gerard Depardieu
Running Time: 127 min.
Rating: PG

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

Ang Lee's Life of Pi starts as one kind of story, only to end as an entirely different and more complex one. But it's everything that happens in between that'll generate the most discussion. Of 2012's end of the year releases, it's undoubtedly the one that leaves you with the most talk, think and maybe even argue about after the final credits roll. Both in terms of the technology and the story being told with it, which is of surprising substance. While I'm still generally very lukewarm on the use (and sometimes abuse) of CGI in movies today, there's no denying it's harnessed here in a way that works in tandem with the material to create an experience that can't easily be dismissed or forgotten. Yann Martel's 2001 bestselling novel has frequently showed up on those lists of popular books that have long been considered "unfilmable." And after watching it I can completely see why. This is really tricky material and it's a credit to Ang Lee that he's somehow able to make it sing on screen, juggling visual and thematic elements that would have sunk many other filmmakers.

When a novelist (Rafe Spall) is urged to interview a middle-aged Indian immigrant named Pi Patel (Irrfan Khan) he's told that the story he's about to tell is literally so amazing it will make him believe in God. Through flashbacks we see Pi's childhood growing up in Pondicherry, where his family owned a zoo. He was born Piscine Molitor, a name for which he was relentlessly teased at school ("Pissing") before eventually changing it to Pi, after the mathematical symbol. Raised Hindu, he shocks his mother (Tabu) and father (Adil Hussein) by announcing he's also converting Christianity and Islam, choosing to now follow all three religions because he "just wants to love God." When Pi turns 16 his father decides they're moving to Winnipeg, Manitoba and selling the zoo animals when they get there. This is a blow to Pi who has not only fallen in love with a local girl but has taken an interest in the animals, specifically a Bengal tiger named Richard Parker. But while Pi and his family are aboard the Japanese freighter, a storm hits, and he's suddenly lost at sea with the dangerous animal as his only companion. And that's when the story really begins.

Without the benefit of seeing the film in 3D, the opening act is a little jarring to watch when Lee cuts back and forth between the present day framing device and the flashbacks to Pi's childhood. You can tell these scenes are playing with depth in a way that can't be fully appreciated watching at home in a two-dimensional format on a standard TV. There's also a generous amount of voiceover narration setting the story up, so without the 3D format acting as distraction, the prologue can sometimes feel as if we're listening to an audio book on film. These may seem like big complaints but they're actually quite minor when you consider all this takes up only about an eighth of the running time and the script expertly sets the stage for Pi's ordeal at sea. Much of what initially occurs may seem to be a head-scratcher in terms of how it relates to what's coming, and to some could even come off as quasi-spiritual mumbo jumbo. But the film's greatest trick is how it disproves that initial skepticism with a straight-up survival story in the vain of Cast Away or Into The Wild, before again returning us to where we started with a final emotional punch to the gut.

From the trailers and rumblings about the novel, I was under the impression that, no matter how fanciful it seems, Pi would form a close friendship with the dangerous Richard Parker as he battles to survive. Instead, their relationship is depicted more as one of reluctant co-existence and mutual respect in which Pi must carefully consider every move he makes as not to be put in a position where he could be eaten by the tiger. With limited means of obtaining food, that's a concern David Magee's script wisely considers every step of the way no matter how tight the two become. There's always a distance there and Pi's journey is as much about overcoming his own fears as it is surviving. Of course, we really don't realize the full extent of that idea until the film's final lap. But in the meantime we're treated to some truly mind-blowing visuals and one of the best CGI animal creations to be put on screen in Richard Parker, who at no point looks and moves like anything other than a real, living, breathing tiger. If it's true that movie technology had to catch up so the book's events could be done justice, then clearly it has.

Claudio Miranda's cinematography won the Academy Award and it's undeniably beautiful. Does it look like anything resembling reality? Kind of, but not really. Should it even matter in this situation? That, I'm even less sure about. And of course there's no way of us knowing how much of the film's look was enhanced by computers in post-production. Should we care when the final result is this good? It's an interesting debate, but not one that makes or breaks this film. It's the story that does that and how well Lee uses this technology to tell it. Needless to say, it makes it. What isn't up for debate is newcomer Suraj Sharma's performance, a young man who hasn't acted in his life and now must do it against a green screen and a CGI tiger. He has to do everything and does so without you being able to notice any of it. The framing device is the weaker part of the picture but the great character actor Irrfan Khan quietly leaves it all up on the screen in his few crucial as his adult counterpart.

It's impossible to discuss the film without talking about the "big twist," which is probably a misleading way to  describe it. In an effort to talk about it without actually doing so, I'll just say that the development that occurs toward the end of the picture is a game-changer in every sense, causing you to re-think and re-feel everything that came before. It's hard to think of instance where one's reaction to a film depends entirely on who you are and what you bring or don't bring to it. When Pi tells the writer that his story "will make you believe in God" you can't help but think he's also talking to us. I'm not sure it does all that or is likely to convert anyone, but it comes closer than it has any right to in philosophically arguing for the existence and purpose of religion while still somehow not being overtly religious in any way. And that the movie doesn't pick a side or necessarily separate any one God or religion from another will probably upset some. What it instead seems to be arguing for is a belief in anything that helps give you the courage to get through. By the film's closing moments we're left with the possibility that something may not have happened when we were led to believe did. But it isn't manipulative. We can still believe it or we can choose not to. Life of Pi bravely splits the audience into two camps, letting us make of the events what we will. It's rare in a big budget film so dependent on modern technology to challenge us like that, encouraging us to carry on the discussion well after Pi's journey concludes.

            

Skyfall

Director: Sam Mendes
Starring: Daniel Craig, Judi Dench, Javier Bardem, Ralph Fiennes, Naomie Harris, Bérénice Marlohe, Albert Finney, Ben Whishaw
Running Time: 143 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

As far as 007 opening sequences go, they don't more thrilling than the one in Skyfall. So far, we've had 23 Bond installments. Let that sink in for a minute. It's a lot. But what's more remarkable is that we've still yet to see one that succeeds as something more than just a franchise entry and can stand on its own as an accomplishment in any genre. Too often the series is hamstrung by tradition as the producers are afraid to step out of the box and take genuine risks that might upset the core audience, but result in a superior finished product. Does anyone remember anything that happened in Quantum of Solace? Skyfall is the closest we've come to perfection and its opening minutes reflect that. It's less shocking in hindsight when you consider Bond can't just die but this entry completes a transformation that's been hinted at for half a century, but really started building since Daniel Craig put on the tux in Casino Royale. He's now a full-fledged, reality-based superhero. In other words, the character's basically evolved into Batman.

Much of the picture's first half plays as a classic Bond tribute, at least until director Sam Mendes pulls the rug out to deliver what might be the craziest entry since On Her Majesty's Secret Service. As a non-fan of the franchise, it was a much needed diversion, since the more often a Bond film veers from tradition, or at least puts an exciting spin on it, the better the result. Helping a great deal is that it's visually more impressive than any previous outing and features a villain that's genuinely terrifying and dangerous. But let's just call this what it really is: Bond as The Dark Night. Mendes has acknowledged the similarities, but what's surprising is just how much of Christopher Nolan's influence seems to be all over the picture, even lifting a specific plot point. There's no denying the strategy worked. It's the strongest entry in years, and the first in a while that doesn't feel behind the times.

After being left for dead in an enthralling pre-credit train sequence, James Bond (Craig) is back after a short seclusion, though certainly not better than ever. Wounded, weak, and even lacking his  usual confident swagger, M (Judi Dench) controversially decides to put him back on active duty despite not being even close to ready. His job is to retrieve the hard drive that slipped through his fingers earlier and contains the names of undercover agents placed in terrorist organizations.  Standing in his way is cyber-terrorist Raoul Silva (Javier Bardem), a creepy sociopath whose actual motives remain cloudy from the get-go, yet become painfully clearer as his twisted plan unfolds with brilliant precision. Despite help from M., MI6 agent Eve (Naomie Harris), nerdy, gadget-savvy Q (Ben Whishaw), M's Intelligence superior Gareth Mallory (Ralph Fiennes), and possibly even Silva's mysterious mistress Séverine (Bérénice Marlohe), this marks one of the few times Bond seems legitimately outmatched by an adversary.

Since Craig took over the role, much fuss has been made about the franchise's detour into more serious territory, all but abandoning the series' cheekier aspects that have been so prevalent over the years.This badder, meaner Bond reached its self-serious peak with Quantum of Solace, which was so derivative and slickly packaged it became indistinguishable from your latest Bourne installment. It was also a real bore that featured a dour Craig performance, making me wonder whether a return to some cheesiness was in order. But if you watch most of those old Bond movies (particularly the Roger Moore entries), they are very much a product of their time, and not in a good way. Sam Mendes could be on paper the most accomplished director to tackle 007 and proves it here by getting serious right. There are some minor pacing problems in the early going, but the plot isn't a slog and supporting characters are actually fleshed out.

Mendes makes it feel like a contemporary action vehicle, but also a Bond movie willing to take risks while still maintaining loyalty to the Ian Fleming source. Perhaps borrowing from Nolan's recent portrayal of Commissioner Gordon, this is the first time Dench's M has been given anything more to do than stand behind a desk and act as a figurehead. She's not only showcased as an important piece of the puzzle here, but even promoted to a Bond sidekick of sorts. She also does some unlikable things and makes questionable decisions that causes Bond (and us) to rightfully doubt her judgment and consider whether she's exceeded her expiration date. But the bigger question might be whether 007 has exceeded his with Craig given the rare opportunity to play a weakened, vulnerable Bond, or at least the most vulnerable he's been since the concluding events of Casino Royale.

If these movies tend to only be as as good as their villain than Javier Bardem's bone-chilling work as Silva goes a long way. Strangely effeminate and almost flamboyantly wacked out, Silva's like no other Bond baddie we've recently seen, and comes complete with a backstory that's intricately fleshed out and surprisingly personal. There's a lot of juice behind his motives and Bardem takes full advantage, relishing the chance to play Silva as a bizarre cross  between Heath Ledger and Cesar Romero's Jokers and Anton Sigurh from No Country For Old Men. He'd walk away with the film, if not for the fact that, as lensed by the still Oscar-less Roger Deakins, it's the most visually pleasing Bond entry of all-time, with hardly a shot undeserving of being framed and hung in a gallery. This is especially true of a captivating Shangai assassination sequence and the film's finale, in which Silva physically lends even more credence to that theory that some men just want to see the world burn. Even if you detested everything else about the film, just the cinematography alone would still be reason enough to recommend this to anyone without hesitation.

If there's a weak plot link, it's Marlohe's Bond girl, who serves little purpose other than to hop in the sack (or in this case, shower) with him, which given the all business nature of this installment seems particularly ill-fitting. If she's there to merely fill a quota, Naomie Harris proves to be the exact opposite as MI6 agent Eve and, without giving too much away, proves in her few impactful scenes to be worthy of sticking around. If she's more than a field agent, than Bond is finally shown in this installment to be something more than just number, complete with a personal history that's inventively woven into the screenplay. A bearded Albert Finney is Kinkade, the caretaker of Bond's childhood home and though he plays the role well, it's impossible not to imagine that it was tailor made for the retired ex-007 Sean Connery. But no conversation about Skyfall is complete without mentioning Adele's Oscar-winning title song, a classic throwback that earns her a spot in the Bond theme hall of fame alongside Shirley Bassey, Carly Simon, Paul McCartney and Duran Duran.   

The general consensus is that each time a new Bond entry is released, it's treated as a reboot, disregarding much of what came before in order to re-energize the franchise so it continues to stick around for the long haul. But this is the first entry in a while that really does feel like a full reboot, despite its heavy influence from another series of recent films. It's also features stronger plotting and a more distinctive visual style than Casino Royale, which garnered much of its praise because of a massive change in tone, the debut of a new actor in the role of 007 and one of the franchise's more compelling love interests. While it proved exceptional at re-introducing Bond to contemporary audiences, it's still really hard not to prefer Skyfall, which simply does more with what it has, inching closer to that seemingly impossible holy grail of a perfect James Bond movie. It definitely puts Craig back in the driver's seat but sometimes you have to wonder how much of this franchise's success depends on that. It always seems to be everything else that's changing around him.