Licence to Kill marks the end of an era in many ways. It's Dalton's second and last Bond, as well as many long standing contributors to the franchise such as Richard Maibaum, Maurice Binder, Robert Brown and John Glen. More importantly, it's the last Bond to be overseen by legendary producer Cubby Broccoli, his health having failed so much by next Bond Goldeneye that the heavy lifting had passed to daughter Barbara and stepson Michael Wilson. Licence to Kill is also the Bond film I struggle with the most, my recognition of the film's admirable attempt for realism and grit conflicting with my basic enjoyment of the flamboyance, glamour and humour of the more traditional Bond films. Licence to Kill is not like many other Bond films (only Quantum of Solace comes close), the plot eschewing the larger than life super-villains to give us a very real foe - South American drug baron Franz Sanchez. When Sanchez takes revenge on Bond's old pal Felix Leiter by killing his new bride and feeding Felix to a shark, Bond sets off on a revenge mission and has his licence to kill revoked by M. Helped by former CIA pilot Pam Bouvier (Carey Lowell), Sanchez's girlfriend Lupe and loveable old Q, Bond heads to Isthmus City to ferment distrust in Sanchez's camp. Before his mission is over, an almost permanently scowling Dalton will have braved maggots, abseiled, waterskied without skis, worn a terrible wedding outfit, had numerous bad hair days and blown up several petrol tankers.
Let's start with my reservations. For me, the Bond franchise - both in print and on film, is about glamour and excess. Apart from the odd trip into more realistic espionage, the Bonds have worked well as larger than life fantasies, boys' own adventures with gadgets, beautiful women and exotic locales. While Licence to Kill has gadgets and girls, it's crucially missing a sense of adventure and it has little glamour and absolutely no fun. Writer Michael G Wilson (Richard Maibaum had to bow out quickly owing to a writers' strike) takes inspiration from Japanese Ronin film and Sergio Leone, making Bond the outsider who causes the group to turn on itself. While this is in itself valid, it jars with what we understand of the character - at least in film. Bond is an assassin, yes, and Dalton brought that side back to the character in The Living Daylights. However, Bond doesn't like killing - it's just a necessary consequence of his job. He also understands the business he's in; as M states, Leiter was well aware of the risks. Bond going on a vendetta doesn't quite ring true. It might have helped had Felix Leiter been played by the same man in the franchise. Here, David Hedison becomes the only man to play him twice but he hadn't done it since 1973 with Roger Moore! Imagine if someone had fed Q to a shark: we'd be baying for Bond to kill them all. However, the films have never really established a Felix we can care about - he's just there, played by another guy, to help Bond through a few plot problems. The film hints that the death of Della might have tapped into Bond's unresolved feelings about his own dead wife Tracy but not enough is made of it. Had this been Craig's Bond this would have been placed front and centre and would have made a more convincing rationale (as was the case with Quantum).
Dalton's Bond here is a vengeful, grim, blundering misery guts. This may be thematically true for the story but it makes him a difficult Bond to warm to. He struggled with quips last time out and here he's given hardly any, spitting his lines and swearing and getting quite a few good people killed along with the bad guys he's hunting. This is obviously how Dalton wants to play Bond but it could never have been maintained; part of Goldeneye's charm is that Bond seems to enjoy his life again and has his charm back. Dalton's not helped by some pretty awful 1980s casual wear and a hairstyle that changes length from scene to scene and then is suddenly covered in a gallon of bad hairspray for the casino scenes in Isthmus City. That said, Dalton's commitment to the physical side of the role is commendable with the actor throwing himself into the action scenes. Unlike the Moore Bonds, the stakes feel real here, the danger palpable. However, without the lighter tones, Licence to Kill resembles the more bog standard action movies and TV shows of the era, a mash-up of Deathwish and Miami Vice, while Dalton's vigilante has more in common with Batman (the hit film that year) than Commander Bond. The Florida Keys locations are pretty enough but the Mexican locations - bar the wonderful Meditation Centre at the end - are dull and TV movie like. It's notable how much the film perks up once Q arrives, still the same lovely old man with his box full of gadgets. Bond may be swearing but Q is still reliably PG. The moment he tosses his broom microphone away in the bushes is a brilliant joke after his long years of chastising Bond about misuse of equipment.
What about the rest of the cast? Lowell makes a good fist of Pam Bouvier and initially is very independent and sparky. However, she's soon reduced to jealous girlfriend once Bond starts tangling with Lupe. Poor Talisa Soto can't act her way out of a paper bag but her beauty just about carries her through. The villains are more fun. Robert Davi is great as Sanchez, making him charming and scary. He's hard to take your eyes off when he's on screen and he gets the best of the black humour, his 'launder it' joke after exploding Milton Krest being the best. The supporting villains have their nuances but don't make that much of an impression. Don Stroud is forgettable while Wayne Newton gives a fun cameo as Professor Joe ("Bless your heart!"). Better is Anthony Zerbe as Krest and a very young Benecio del Toro as Dario, a truly nasty piece of work in one of Michael Jackson's stage outfits. Writer Wilson does manage to cleverly chart their downfall with Bond sowing seeds of mistrust that makes Sanchez turn on his circle. When he does, the film is unflinchingly graphic, henchmen being impaled on forklifts, riddled with bullets and, most memorably, Krest exploded in a pressure chamber, easily the franchise's most gruesome moment to date.
To me, Licence to Kill doesn't feel much like a Bond film but more like a well made action movie of the period, more a stablemate of Lethal Weapon and Rambo than the Bond movies of the past. Because of that, the film feels a little dated, not just in the fashions but in the then preoccupation with drug cartels. However, judged as an action film, Licence to Kill has some good action on offer. Dalton may look an utter jackass hanging out a helicopter in the pre-credits sequence - in a wedding suit and the downdraft giving him Mr Spock hair - but the stunt is original while the multi-layered action aboard, under and then above the Wavekrest with Bond diving, skiing and then hanging off a plane is well staged. They save the best until last however, with a brilliantly conceived and executed sequence as Bond takes out a convoy of tankers on a winding highway. It's exciting, involving and has possibly the biggest explosions you'll ever see without CGI. It's easily the best action work in the 1980s Bond movies and maybe even further back too. Minus points, however, for Bond carrying around a lighter engraved not just with his name but Felix and Della's too (didn't they search his clothes?) and that bloody winking fish statue.
0070's Rating: ***
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