Moore's tenure as 007 was mostly notable for its goofiness, but his final film as James Bond is mostly a staid-to-the-point-of-boring affair.

Even a burly brawl between Craig and Dave Bautista on a train feels like a callback to a far superior sequence, in a superior film. That might all be fine if said reveal didn't follow a plodding, meandering first hour that unsuccessfully mimics Skyfall's 'ruined city' existentialism about the state of MI6, itself following a plodding, meandering theme song that unsuccessfully mimics its Adele-sung predecessor. More distressingly his claim to being the ' author' of Bond's pain stems from the sort of cynical pandering that would bring Emperor Palpatine back in The Rise of Skywalker. That's partly due to the uninspired casting of Christoph Waltz, who could do this type of performance in his sleep. Blofeld has been Thanos-ing long before Josh Brolin snapped his purple fingers, yet his re-emergence here feels hackneyed. All Bond movies are reflections of the cinematic landscape in which they're released, so it's not a surprise the MCU's trend of focusing on an over-arching narrative rather than the film at hand would wind up influencing 007.

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