When considering The November Man, one has to inescapably recall the onscreen legacy of Pierce Brosnan, which works only in the movie’s favor. The film knows that you know he is James Bond, and like some of the niftier B-thrillers Sean Connery participated in during the 1980s, this unavoidable awareness makes November in August a worthwhile prospect.
From the way his Irish brogue curls softly into English cynicism, mildly amused by all the annoying yanks running around shouting about the CIA’s supposed importance, to that wry smile which follows every bit of spy jargon passing through his lips as if it’s a secret of the universe, this is ultimately about the simple pleasure of revisiting a past brand of Bond.
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