I finally got around to uploading some photos from my Hroad Trip from OH to LA a few months back.

You can view them on Flickr.

Enjoy!

Is it presumptuous of me to say this film will win a River-Queen-load of awards? From acting to directing to writing to costuming, this film, which both entertains and educates, is expertly and lovingly crafted.

Part of the expertise exhibited by Steven Spielberg is crafting a film that is remarkably restrained. Given the subject matter—the greatest American president—one might expect a grand, historical epic charting how a tall-in-stature but short-in-experience man becomes that great president and how the trials and tribulations of the events he was thrust into defined the man. Instead, we are treated to a smaller, more scope-focused, and more intimate film about how the man defined the events thrust upon him. And the film is all the better because of that focus and restraint.

Restrained, too, is John Williams’s score. Often heard are complaints his music dominates—negatively—scenes it accompanies. But in Lincoln, he, like Spielberg, gets out of the way of sorts. Large parts of the film are left unscored. And when his music is heard, it is to gently and, in many cases, elegiacally reinforce the moment on screen—until the end when the score lets loose.

That focus and restraint from Spielberg and Williams allows something else to shine through: the acting. Daniel Day-Lewis has been called the “greatest living actor” for good reason. On display in this film is proof why. From his mannerisms to his wit to the way he physically carries the character on screen, Day-Lewis is every bit as good as expected. And then some. He breathes life into a historical force we only know from photos and text in history books in a way that made me think, “Gee, I wouldn’t mind having a White House Honey Ale with this man.”

Day-Lewis’s isn’t the only great performance. Also great were Sally Field and Tommy Lee Jones. Her shared time with Day-Lewis and his time apart were notable and not to be overlooked. (A side note about casting. The supporting cast is a treasure trove of b- and c-list television actors. One in particular—a certain British accountant playing a certain U.S.General—entirely caught me off guard to the point I missed everything he said when he was introduced. After the initial shock wore off, I determined I wouldn’t mind seeing him in his own film.)

What I saw in this film were parallels to our time. Besides the political horse-trading and bitter divisiveness—and abject name calling!—legislation had to be passed to course-correct the legal status of a particular set of people. Almost 150 years later, the story hasn’t changed. Furthermore, both times feature a president, from Illinois, who, as he looks at the long game, is accused of being overly deliberative and not adequately leading.

These parallels give the film an almost timeless feeling. So too does the title character. While the film takes place in a time when the United States was ruled by men of whiskers, the moral fortitude of its title character is bound by no age. And as that title character, Daniel Day-Lewis gives a masterful performance—a performance that, like Lincoln, now belongs to the ages.

At one point during the film, James Bond quips his hobby is resurrection. That may be true for the character, but it’s even truer for the franchise. Now going on 50 years, the James Bond franchise has gone through twenty-three films (a few of them remarkably terrible), six actors in the title role (some better than others), a changing—and shrinking—world stage (not to mention the changing technology), and the influence from other film franchises (most notably Nolan’s films and the Bourne films).

Yet the franchise lives on. Whenever one might count Bond out, he comes roaring back louder than the MGM lion preceding his adventure. A hokey Diamonds Are Forever gave way to Live and Let Die and an uncharacteristic role for Bond. A tired A View To a Kill gave way to The Living Daylights and an uber-serious Bond. A weakLicence to Kill (and a six year hiatus) gave way to GoldenEye and a fresh, new direction. An atrocious Die Another Day gave way to Casino Royale and its refocused, reinvigorated approach to the character and franchise.

Skyfall continues the trend of resurrection. Not only does the film do penance for the sub-par Quantum of Solace, it sets up the franchise for many more films to come. And while the film looks to the future, it makes sure not to forget the past with several nods to staple Bond elements.

That future-and-past theme appears throughout the film. The future of MI6 is tested while Bond’s and M’s pasts surface. The first two acts were superb with their expected action and unexpected amount of sleuthing. Dame Judi Dench is marvelous as M in a very expanded role, and Javier Bardem is wicked, wily, and tremendous fun (Anthony Hopkins’s Hannibal Lector and Heath Ledger’s Joker meet Julian Assange and Anonymous). Had the third act contained the same amount of vigor,Skyfall would have easily found a spot in my top-five Bond films. But the third act fell apart for me as it descends into a more generic action film that feels considerably less Bondian than the two preceding acts (and there’s a preparation montage during which all I could think of is Home Alone). The first two acts have so many people and so much going on that the third act seems desolate and disconnected. And afterward is an epilogue of sorts that, given the events of the third act, seems almost tacked on and inappropriate—but it was necessary to complete the franchise’s resurrection.

What else is disappointing about the film is the role females play. The female role achieved a high-water mark in Casino Royale with Vesper being a strong, intellectual equal to Bond and with M being a smart, capable leader. But in Skyfall, the female roles are, umm, resurrected to their “traditional” roles.

Not disappointing is the work from director Sam Mendes. Mendes isn’t known for rollicking action sequences, but with Skyfall, he proves he’s no slouch either. He deftly handles the action as well as he does the more dramatic side of Bond.

With Mendes comes his sometimes cinematographer Roger Deakins. His work inSkyfall is unquestionably my favorite part of the film. The use of light and shadow and the abundance of striking silhouettes throughout the film is inspiring.

And along with Deakins comes Mendes’s composer of choice: Thomas Newman. When Mendes was announced as director, I was curious if his usual collaborator would be brought on to score the film or if David Arnold, who scored Tomorrow Never Dies through Quantum of Solace, would remain. When Newman was announced as composer, I was one part frightened and one part intrigued. Frightened because at the time nothing in his past suggested he could pull off a high-octane action score. Intrigued because everything in his past shows he has enormous talent. And the end result is something quite satisfying. As with his director, Newman proves he no slouch at action either. All the familiar Thomas Newman mannerisms are present. But so is a new, and welcomed, side of Newman.

Not welcomed is the absence of a generous amount of interpolations of the title theme throughout the score. As what usually happens when the film’s composer is not involved in creating the title song, the song disappears after the title sequence ends. When given proper treatment, the song’s melody becomes more than a disjointed musical addendum and serves as a unifying identity for the film. Adele’s terrific and very Bondian song is beautifully quoted to accompany the mesmerizing visuals as Bond arrives at the casino but is otherwise absent from the film. This wasn’t the case with Casino Royale as David Arnold co-wrote the title song with Chris Cornell thus allowing him to weave several orchestral fragments of the song throughout the film.

So to enjoy Adele’s song (which is probably my second-favorite part of the film), we have to look to the title sequence. And that sequence is designed by series regular Daniel Kleinman who returns—thankfully—after being noticeably absent fromQuantum of Solace when Marc Forster brought along MK12, his title-sequence creators of choice. Kleinman’s Skyfall sequence expertly mirrors the film with imagery and symbolism carefully plucked from events in the film. And at the same time, it mirrors the franchise. Throughout the sequence, there’s a constant forward motion. The sequence propels forward unfazed and unhindered—just like the franchise does.

And that’s what the franchise will continue to do—especially after an entry that will be seen as successful as this one where the directing, acting, story, music, and visuals all come together to create one hell of a Bond film. There are faults with the film but not enough to derail the franchise’s forward motion. And certainly not enough to derail the franchise’s resurrection. You picked a good hobby, Mr. Bond. Here’s to 50 more years. But let’s fix those faults.