After capturing the notorious drug lord Franz Sanchez, Bond's close friend and former CIA agent Felix Leiter is left for dead and his wife is murdered. Bond goes rogue and seeks vengeance on those...
Licence to Kill, the second and final installment of the Timothy Dalton era. I was apprehensive going into this film because Dalton didn’t win me over in The Living Daylights. I appreciated the more serious tone of the film, and the action scenes and gadgets were enjoyable as ever, but Dalton doesn’t pull off the one-liners or the look. Sure, he’s a handsome guy, but not in the classic way the previous actors have been. There’s a wild sheen to Dalton which works for the way his Bond is written, but I do miss the seemingly effortless charm of Connery and Moore; even when those actors overdid the tongue-in-cheek quips, that sense of winking fun is part of what I want from a Bond film, and Living Daylights/Dalton didn’t have it.
Licence to Kill ends up being a huge improvement over its predecessor, although I wouldn’t have guessed it based on the first half hour. Aside from another impressive aerial stunt during the pre-credit sequence, this introduction involving Felix’s wedding is a bore. For those of you who don’t already know, CIA agent Felix Leiter is a long running character who has never done much in this series, but the screenwriters keep bringing him back. Jack Lorde and Bernie Casey were the only actors I ever liked in this role, and both were one-offs as is almost always the case. Here we get David Hedison for the second time, and he gives another forgettable performance.
The plot gets cooking when drug lord Franz Sanchez (Robert Davi) and his goons murder the newly christened Della Leiter, and feed Felix to a shark. Bond discovers the aftermath of this attack, gets a crazy look in his eyes, and suddenly I find myself loving Dalton in the role. This is the kind of story he’s perfect for; Dalton brings the intensity and physicality needed for an unkempt James Bond bent on revenge. The script goes easy on Bond’s one-liners as well, frequently giving them to Robert Davi who, truth be told, is much better at delivering them.
Before I forget, can someone explain how Timothy Dalton managed to age ten years between 1987 and 1989? 88′ must have been a hell of a party. During the action scenes he looks fine, but in closeup he’s positively haggard: bags under his eyes, occasional double chin, hair starting to go--steep decline for this guy in the looks department. In another way though Dalton’s appearance here is an asset because this is the most desperate and dangerous Bond we’ve ever seen.
The film really gets rolling when Bond, ordered by M to abandon his pursuit of Sanchez, disobeys and goes rogue from MI6. We’ve seen Bond become disillusioned with the agency before, but seeing him strike and flee from his countrymen is something else entirely. Shortly after this he sneaks aboard a ship, and stalks through its passages, wielding a knife like a slasher killer. He breaks into a cabin and, face darkened by shadows, holds a knife to a young woman’s neck, demanding information. I mean, wow. Can you imagine trying to do this with Roger Moore? At this stage of the film I’m becoming adrenalized. Dalton has my full attention.
As Bond begins to research Sanchez, he comes across the name Pam Bouvier, a character we briefly met--blink and you’ll miss it--at Felix’s wedding. After saving her from an ambush by Sanchez’s men, the two team up, and travel to Isthmus City where Sanchez owns and operates several businesses. Once there, Bond poses as a wealthy killer for hire, hoping to be accepted into Sanchez’s inner circle. Sanchez discovers that Bond is a former MI6 agent, lending legitimacy to Bond’s claims, and intriguing the cocaine kingpin.
Bond movies are enhanced greatly when he’s paired with a solid accomplice, and Pam (Carey Lowell) is one of the best. She isn’t the archetypal Bond girl; Pam has combat and aviator skills, is bright, headstrong, and of, course stunningly gorgeous. She comes off thoroughly unremarkable when we first meet her (frizzy hair, baggy clothes, surly demeanor), but when her character opens up and begins participating in the plot the film is elevated. It certainly doesn’t hurt when wardrobe cuts her hair short, slicks it to the side, and provides a cocktail dress for the blackjack scene; Bond wasn’t the only one who felt the air go out of the room when she walked in--anyone else think of Robert Palmer’s “Addicted to Love” dancers?
As far as the key players go, this film is wonderfully cast. In addition to a great partner and love interest with Carey Lowell, we get a villain with real depth and presence in Robert Davi. Bond is brought to Sanchez’s office where the two meet for the first time, and their back-and-forth is electric. Sanchez is self-assured, yet fascinated by the brash Englishman. Bond projects deadly confidence with his measured growl and smoldering gaze. These two are hot magic on screen.
After a failed attempt on Sanchez’s life, Bond finds himself earning the trust of the now shaken (not stirred) drug dealer, and begins sowing seeds of suspicion regarding his smuggling associates. Teamed with Pam, Q, and Sanchez’s lover Lupe (Talisa Soto), Bond makes it to the main laboratory of Sanchez’s operation which has been cleverly disguised as a pseudo-religious meditation center. This brings Professor Joe Butcher (Wayne Newton) into our story, and what a treat Newton is. We saw him earlier hosting a phony TV fundraising event, and he gets another scene with Pam here at the lair. I’m grateful that this script uses Newton and Q for levity rather than the kind of excessive wise-cracking these films often take too far; both Newton and Desmond Llewelyn (in an expanded role) add energy and fun to a film that may have felt inordinately dour without them.
I should mention that one of Sanchez’s main goons is played by a very young Benicio Del Toro. We saw him in a bar shootout earlier, but this final fight at the base is where he is most utilized. Unfortunately for Benicio he ends up as hamburger meat after falling into a stone grinder, and Bond gets into a high-speed pursuit with Sanchez that features several tanker trucks full of cocaine.
This tanker chase is bananas, and one of the best action sequences of the whole series. It has rocket launching, truck stunts, flaming cars going airborne, a full body burn, huge explosions, a machete fight--I could go on. This is another situation where Dalton shines because I buy him during this action. If Roger Moore had been Bond we’d be looking at heavy and obvious use of a double for a lot of this stuff.
After everything within a five mile radius is in flames, it comes down to Bond and Sanchez--can you guess who wins? I do wish Sanchez would have escaped so we could have had Robert Davi in another film. Not that it would have mattered since Dalton never got another shot, but I can envision an exciting multi-film epic with these two trading blows.
Licence to Kill was financially successful, but something about its reception led to the longest ever break between Bond films; it was six years before Goldeneye was released in the winter of 1995. Perhaps audiences didn’t warm to Dalton. Maybe the suits at MGM/UA weren’t happy with a less kid-friendly Bond. Whatever it was, Dalton only did one better on George Lazenby and, in my eyes, left a potentially great Bond era unrealized.
As for the film itself, I think Licence to Kill is among the very best of this series. I can also see why audiences may have disliked where the filmmakers took Dalton’s Bond ; his films are certainly darker and less fun, but we’d already had fourteen posh, sardonic Bonds before Dalton--I think it was wise to swing the pendulum hard in the other direction. Personally, I like all the EON actors who have played Bond to this point, but Dalton is unique among them. He’s the first actor who isn’t channeling Connery in some way, and that makes his portrayal of Bond equal parts refreshing and troublesome. I had my reservations during The Living Daylights, but by the time credits were rolling on this film, I was on board for more Dalton. What a shame.
