Spectre review: Suddenly, MI6 objects to the concept of espionage?

"Where are the bloody bunny slopes around here?"

As much fun as James Bond movies can be, they usually suffer from some serious leaps in logic and other half-baked plot setups. The rushed explanations about cutting-edge spy or hacking technology; the arbitrary shooting accuracy of various heroes and villains; the supposedly strong-willed women who fall for 007 at the drop of a martini. They're all series staples, which Spectre, the 24th full-length film in the series, also adheres to.

We stomach that stuff in a Bond movie because we expect landscapes and action sequences as smooth, svelte, and stunning as the actors who make them come to life, and Spectre nails those as well. Big buildings go boom, sexy cars go vroom, and Daniel Craig's effortless 007 cool makes hearts swoon.

But we wouldn't go so far as to call this a series pinnacle, which is a particular shame, given that the film's conceit—and even its name—recall an attempt to tie up some of Bond lore's loose ends. The problem with this Bond film is that it teases big fanboy payoffs but comes up short.

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