Gritty, grimdark Bond may have been novel when Casino Royale came out and the franchise was shrugging off the spectre (sorry) of the silly '90s, but now all that self-seriousness is dated and tiring.
Each 007 actor's fourth entry has been a bloated, sometimes wrongheaded collection of 'greatest hits' Bond moments, and it is with great regret we must report the phenomenon is alive and unwell in Spectre.
I regard it as a ravishing exercise in near-despair, with Bond beset by the suspicion that, were he to desist, both his character and his cause would be unmasked as a void. Killing is his living, and his proof of life.
For the most part, it's efficient-enough Bond fare - overlong car chases, beautiful women in eternal danger, crazy stunts, suave cool under fire. Nice fitting suits.
Spectre is a decent Bond film, and it retains the qualities of what we expect from the series, but it's not on the level of greatness we expected given the previous films.
There are signs of Bond bloat within many of the action sequences - it must be hard to trim such extravagant footage - but they are at least partly overcome by an increase in levity.
While connecting all the Craig Bond films together in this (possibly final) entry may seem like a good idea, the result is way too confusing, and in some ways, just plain silly.
Spectre is sloppier than other recent Bonds, but it also feels like it's exhausted the idea that fueled the franchise's relaunch -- darker and more realistic can only last so long when it's paired with a rotating cast of Bond girls and supervillains.