The years and the decades roll on, and Agent 007 gets no older, even if it necessitates expanding the tag team to include Pierce Brosnan -- like Roger Moore before him, a made-for-TV actor, a James Bland. The implication would seem to be that the aftermath of the Cold War is as congenial an environment for him as the arctic middle of it. The more sensible view would surely be that he had his day, and it's over and done, and no self-conscious putdown of him as a "sexist misogynist dinosaur" is going to cover the problem. By sticking to an unchanging formula, he's fallen back into the pack. Or the pack has overtaken him. Either way, he's become just one of the boys: Rambo, Ryback, McClane, and Bond. Better dressed, better mannered, but in the upmanship cinema of stunts and special effects, of chases and detonations, the differences blur. Famke Janssen enjoys some amusing moments as a giddily sadomasochistic villainess with the witless surname of Onatopp, and Judy Dench as the new "M" delivers the movie's best lines. Both of them. With Izabella Scorupco and Sean Bean; directed by Martin Campbell. (1995) — Duncan Shepherd
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