James Bond movies are known for their dialogue only insofar as it figures in an innuendo-laden seduction or a cheeky send-off line; it's not a franchise you look to for metatextual awareness. Yet, Spectre manages to eke out a moment of genuine fourth-wall-breaking resonance when Ralph Fiennes' M addresses a room full of agents. The Double-0 program is nigh; after all, in the modern era, wiretapping and drones can replicate the result of just about any boots-on-the-ground espionage. "The French have a saying," M says, trying to offer solace. "'Glass is made to break.' Maybe it's the fate of spies to just disappear."

Hundreds of miles away, deep in yet another bad guy's secret lair, 007 (Daniel Craig) watches the moment via a surveillance feed. He knows that he's a model that's going out of date, but he's also aware that a drone could never be where he's standing: face-to-face with the man who's plotting to take down M's den of spies. This tension is Spectre's greatest strength—and its biggest weakness. It knows James Bond is an antique in a Blackhat and Bourne world, and can't help but wear its self-consciousness on its sleeve.