In many ways, actor Daniel Craig gave us the James Bond we needed for the 21st century, although he's made it clear that the 25th entry in the tireless Bond franchise, No Time To Die, is his last. Ironically, the genetic catastrophe that caused the film's 18-month delay is eerily mirrored by the film's obviously monikered Lyutsifer Safin (Rami Malek), who is threatening to unleash a devastating bioweapon for some reason. That's an afterthought, however, as No Time To Die is really about passing torches and re-envisioning the world. Too bad it's not a more-thrilling spy thriller.

Accidental metaphors aside, Craig's Bond was very much of his time, as were the Bonds that came before him: mid-century macho (Sean Connery), gaudy '70s swagger (Roger Moore), correct and corrective '90s (Pierce Brosnan). When Casino Royale came out in 2006, it got caught up in the "gritty reboot" movement (Battlestar Galactica, Batman Begins) and fell under the sway of its more bareknuckle cousins (The Bourne Identity, Mission: Impossible). Casino Royale also kicked off the only serialized Bond subset, right alongside the rise of prestige serialized television.

So who better to construct a grand farewell for Craig's Bond than the crew that worked on the other four films: the majority of the supporting cast, writers Neal Purvis and Robert Wade, and two of prestige TV's finest, co-writer Phoebe Waller-Bridge (Killing Eve) and True Detective director Cary Joji Fukunaga?

No Time To Die picks up after the events of the miserable Spectre, with a retired Bond and the sudden love of his life, Madeleine Swann (Lea Seydoux) vacationing in Italy before the nefarious Blofeld (Christoph Waltz) sicks some of his goons on the couple and ends the "happily ever after". Bond is pulled back into the spy game when his CIA pal Felix (Jeffrey Wright) asks for help locating and renditioning a Russian scientist to the United States. It's also here that Bond is forced to work with the "double-oh" who replaced him, Nomi (Lashana Lynch, Captain Marvel's Maria Rambeau).

Fukunaga and Waller-Bridge make their presence felt in both visual flourishes — framing Craig in a circular hallway recalling the franchise logo, a lengthy "oner" (an unbroken action sequence) —and the casual modernity imposed on the supporting players, chiefly Nomi, Q (Ben Whishaw) and M (Ralph Fiennes). Nomi appeases fanboys clutching their pearls at the thought of a nonwhite Bond or, gads, a woman in the role, and slots in nicely as another of the nine "00" agents of Ian Fleming's spyverse (when she gets screen time).

But the film drops the ball by trying to stuff too much into a numbing three hours and still falling short. Naomie Harris' Moneypenny is reduced to a houseplant, and newcomer Ana de Armas (Knives Out) as a Cuban agent is woefully underused. In their race to emotionalize Bond, the four writers forgot about fun hijinks.

Miraculously, it's still Bond, and for all its stumbling, No Time To Die gives audiences (and Bond diehards) a great deal of what they could want: vivid locations, well-timed (and often-cornball) quips, high-tech gadgets, mad scientists, supervillains (not the series' best), superweapons, and dozens of shout-outs to the franchise history. In the end, No Time To Die is most notable for what it sets up for the future rather than what it accomplishes in the now.