It has been exactly a week since I came back all excited and goose-bumpy from the theatre after having watched Skyfall. Even now, every time the film is mentioned, I get all trippy. That’s how brilliantly Sam Mendes has made the 23rd Bond film.

Presumed dead after Boss M (Judi Dench) makes a risky professional choice and co-worker Eve (Naomie Harris) takes a miscalculated shot during a nail-biting chase sequence, Commander James Bond aka 007 (Daniel Craig) uses the time and anonymity to chill, introspect, meet women and get drunk – not necessarily in that order. A hard drive containing sensitive information about MI6 agents in the field has been stolen and as the nation’s security comes under threat, so does M’s job, as informed to her and us by Gareth Mallory (Ralph Fiennes), Intelligence and Security Committee Chairman. It takes the criminal party to blow up the headquarters of MI6 to get Bond back into action. What ensues is unpredictably thrilling twists, the trademark witticisms and unlike ever before, a half-peep into Bond’s past – his childhood.

While this installment in the series goes light on booze, women and gadgets (the Aston Martin makes an appearance and there are enough stunts, though… fret not!), Javier Bardem as the superbad Raoul Silva doesn’t let you lament that at all. Icy cool, calculating, perfectly composed and menacingly maniacal at the same time, the man amazes you with his talent. His Oedipal interactions with M, vague references to the time he was an MI6 agent, an apparent familiarity with Skyfall and his blonde hair led my friend to theorise possible familial connections between Bond, M and Silva. Watching the film with that angle in mind and observing the finer details in the dialogue and editing made it even more interesting for me.

Dame Judi Dench – she leaves me speechless. Her mere presence on the screen leaves you spellbound. She portrays dignity with such panache and beauty. Ben Whishaw as Q does good. Fiennes didn’t have enough screen time here to be able to create the impact he usually does, but he doesn’t let you complain anyway.

I shall now come to Daniel Craig. I was never really impressed with him as Bond. And then I watched Skyfall. Even though my immediate reaction was to try and dismiss him, he has grown on me in the last one week. There is something about women and powerful but vulnerable men. Exactly that gets to you slowly and sinks in deep. Craig’s Bond is emotionally multidimensional along with all the other things Bond always was – suave, charming, cocky, strong, lithe, agile, witty and a woman lover. That addition to his personality makes him stand off very nicely against Silva, who too has an emotional motive for his actions. This play-off of personalities, M included, keeps you rooted to your seats.

The cinematography by Roger Deakins is breathtaking. He uses a combination of wide-angle and low-angle shots to make the landscapes and the cityscapes awe-inspiring, and generally follows Bond as he stealthily and as agile as a cat pits his brain and brawn against Silva. A sequence where a hitman is setting up a shot behind a glass wall and the opening credits are psychedelic. There is a lot of use of glass and mirrors – probably to show that Bond is now looking at himself and a past that is pulling him but is not a pleasant place for him to visit.

Neal Purvis, Robert Wade and John Logan have written a very cohesive script, while Mendes has once again proved why his films are so amazing to watch. To blend thrill and emotion isn’t easy. Watch the introduction of Silva. You see him and you hear him. And as he takes forever to walk towards Bond while narrating an anecdote about rats from his childhood, you take stock of his madness little by little, letting yourself absorb his character, preparing for the insanity that this seemingly cool man is about to unleash. That character introduction is just too good.

To the uninitiated, this is the perfect time to jump into the series. We are back to a male M and a black Moneypenny, completing a cycle. And there couldn’t have been a more fitting tribute to Ian Flemming’s super spy in the 50th year of James Bond.