Before Their Time: License to Kill
By Daniel MacDonald
July 1, 2009
BoxOfficeProphets.com
The two most recent James Bond adventures, Casino Royale and Quantum of Solace, have been praised by critics and audiences alike for their gritty realism, exhilarating stunt work, and depictions of an ill-tempered Bond driven more by personal vendettas than a desire to please his superiors. Indeed, compared to the increasingly ridiculous Pierce Brosnan outings, these films are cinéma vérité. Contrary to what the young and those with short memories might believe, though, Daniel Craig was not the first brutish Bond. Twenty years ago, Timothy Dalton explored similar territory in one of my favorite 007 outings, Licence to Kill.
Sure, Licence to Kill retains some of the comic and fantasy elements that show up in nearly every Bond picture. The opening sequence, featuring a wonderful showdown between a plane and a helicopter, is capped off with our hero and his close friend Felix parachuting to Felix's wedding ceremony (good thing they were wearing their tuxes!) and being treated by the assembled guests like they had just pulled up in a cab. Bond girl Pam Bouvier (former model Carey Lowell) nearly kills Bond in his hotel room while Q is showing off a new assortment of gadgets. And, why does Bond need a gun that looks like a movie camera anyway?
Those types of quibbles are standard for nearly all Bond pictures, and if anything they draw even more attention to Licence to Kill's gritty tone in contrast. The plot is built upon Bond's unstoppable drive for revenge after Felix's new bride is killed, and he loses limbs in an evil genius-approved great white shark tank. When M tries to halt his mission, Bond resigns on the spot - taking not even a moment to think it over - and becomes a hunted man by his own agency, refusing to hand over his PP7 and go quietly into the night. Does he care at all about his career? Does he fear for his life? Nope - Bond has only one thing on his mind, and it starts with "V" and ends with "engeance".
Bond manages to infiltrate the ranks of drug kingpin Franz Sanchez (played with hairy-chested panache by the great, great Robert Davi), and uncovers an elaborate scheme to dissolve cocaine in gasoline, with price negotiation taking place in code through a slimy televangelist played by Wayne Newton. Sanchez is a bad hombre: when we first meet him, he whips his lady friend Lupe Lamora (Talisa Soto) for being unfaithful, and then has one of his henchman (a very young and very skinny Benicio Del Toro ) cut her suitor's heart out. Later, Sanchez locks a traitorous associate in a decompression chamber, cranks the dials, and watches the man literally burst.
Bond himself isn't a whole lot nicer. When he finds the man responsible for Felix's wounds, he tosses him into the same shark tank, along with the two million dollars the man was paid. Over the next couple of hours Bond locks a goon in a drawer full of maggots, sets a guy on fire and runs another through a cocaine grinder. It's gruesome, heavy subject matter, and resulted in Licence to Kill receiving the series' first PG-13 rating, and even that required the trimming of some blood and guts.
Timothy Dalton portrays Bond as strikingly focused, his eyes on the prize at all times; even when he's talking someone to bed, you get the sense that his mind is elsewhere. The phrase "Bond, James Bond" never leaves his lips, and when he orders his martini shaken, not stirred, he does it dismissively as a way to get Bouvier out of his hair. Dalton replaces charm with intensity, and pulls off beautifully one of the most emotional moments of the entire series. Felix's wife insists on Bond taking her garter, implying he will be next to get married; Bond objects, then reluctantly takes it and slinks away - before Felix opens his mouth, we know James has been married before and it didn't end well. It's a heartbreaking and subtle scene, and makes me wish Dalton had been able to star in more than Bond pictures. His take on the character in Licence to Kill and The Living Daylights is drastically underappreciated - and was a clear precursor for Daniel Craig's highly regarded turn in Casino Royale.
Also unfortunate was Licence to Kill's box office performance. Released in the summer of 1989, it was up against a foreboding slate of competition: Lethal Weapon 2, Batman, Ghostbusters II, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, Honey, I Shrunk the Kids, and The Abyss were all vying for entertainment dollars, and this 16th entry in the Bond series lost out. Six years later, Pierce Brosnan took up the mantle in GoldenEye, and the series traded gritty realism for fantasy set pieces and one-liners. That made a lot of people a lot of money, but also gave us Denise Richards as a rocket scientist.
The final Bond film directed by John Glen, who helmed four previous installments, and featuring a lovely score by Michael Kamen, Licence to Kill is worth a second look by anyone who wants to see more of the vengeful Bond of Quantum of Solace, who dismissed Dalton as a placeholder for Brosnan (despite him having been considered for the part in the late '60s, and again in 1980), or who just love the excesses of the '80s action genre. The story is engaging, the stunts are terrific (some really remarkable things are done with a semi late in the game), and the Bond girls are actually integral to the plot. Audiences in 1989 may have preferred to watch Sean Connery as Indiana Jones' dad over a new incarnation of the British super agent, but thanks to the gorgeous and inexpensive Ultimate Edition DVDs, you can find out how James Bond lost his Licence to Kill.