Licence To Kill isn't my favourite Bond, but is in my top five. Many criticise it for not being 'Bond' enough, but that's a misnomer. True, the tone is less sparing and humourous than previous iterations, but that simply places it more in line with the Bond from the books than most of the movies. In fact, the movie draws on both film and book canon in several small but effective ways, despite being the first to adopt a non-Fleming title. Bond's anger at the attack on the Leiters is framed in reference to the death of his wife, Tracy, in On Her Majesty's Secret Service. The central conceit of the plot could be described as a loose adaptation of The Man With The Golden Gun novel, with both involving an emotionally compromised Bond infiltrating a smuggling ring in order to kill its head. The secondary villain, Milton Krest, is named for a character from short story The Hildebrand Rarity, and the weird whip Sanchez uses on his girlfriend, Lupe, is probably another reference to that same story, where Krest whips his missus with a stingray tail.
What gets forgotten these days is that Licence marked the first time Bond had gone 'rogue'. He'd been off-book a few times before, but usually with some sort of acknowledgment from M. Nowadays, Bond goes off on his own at least once per movie, diluting the power of the idea into irrelevance. It's to Licence's credit that Bond's anger throughout the movie remains surprisingly potent, while still allowing him the calculating professionalism that Quantum Of Solace neglected in favour of messy emotional directionlessness. Here, Bond focuses his anger into devising a plan of action and executing it flawlessly - the movie's debt to Yojimbo is clear and officially acknowledged. He plays a slow game, needling Sanchez's insecurities and disrupting his operation from the inside. As in Living Daylights, a major part of the film's success is Timothy Dalton, whose Bond retains an aura of underlying PTSD - witness the moment he steels himself against the pain upon finding a body bag in Leiter's home, or his sigh of resignation upon finally killing Sanchez and realising it hasn't made anything better - dragged to the surface by fresh trauma. It's a powerfully credible performance of how a man like Bond would react to his cool facade being cracked, allowing the anger within to bleed out.
Beyond Bond, Pam Bouvier is one of the few 'Bond equal' women to live up to the tag. She's her own character - stubborn, tough, hyper-competent - and Cary Lowell gives a performance just natural enough to keep her likeable without losing her edge. Her jealous streak is unfortunate, not necessarily out of character but diminishing her strength in an annoying way (as is Bond constantly insisting that everyone supporting him go home) that comes to nothing. Q's expanded role is to the movie's huge credit, finally giving Desmond Llewellyn a bit of a showcase, imbuing humour into the sometimes intractable tone and offering the movie's biggest laugh when he discards a piece of equipment with the same insouciance he historically chastised Bond for. Lupe Lamora, Bond's secondary lay, isn't as charismatic or memorable as Bouvier, but does line up nicely with the Andrea Anders model of a woman using Bond to escape an abusive lover. It's to the movie's credit that she survives to the end.
Of the villains, Robert Davi's Sanchez is an effective foil for this particular Bond. He's cunning and composed, extravagently violent in punishing those who defy him and able to cover his tracks at every step using a vast network to keep him safe. That Bond identifies and uses Sanchez's obsession with loyalty against him is strong character writing and Davi's serpentine charm (and ease with pre-death quips) makes him mirror Bond just enough to sell the theme without slapping viewers in the face. Anthony Zerbe's Milton Krest is rather one-note, but the receipient of one of the series' most memorably gruesome deaths, while Benicio Del Toro's Dario, who has a twisted father-son relationship with Sanchez, is fabulously depraved and a terrific match of actor to character. Wayne Newton (yes, that Wayne Newton) as Professor Joe Butcher draws a lot of criticism, but the idea of a corrupt televangelist using his platform to communicate drug prices is tremendously Flemingian and Newton's cheesy Vegas smarm, again, fits the character perfectly.
Despite the grittier tone, the movie doesn't skimp on visually astonishing set-pieces. The opening pulls off the Dark Knight Rises plane stunt almost a quarter of a century earlier, and Bond and Felix parachuting to a wedding is a fantastic cap. Bond's escape from Krest's boat - waterskiing behind a sea plane using a harpoon gun - is brilliantly set up, laying out the pieces of a seemingly impossible situation before showing Bond putting them together to his advantage, delivering plenty of flair without compromising stakes or excitement and keeping Bond imperiled but quick-witted enough to find a way out. Even better is how, for once, the real-world ludicrousness of Bond's escape becomes an essential plot point later on. The climactic Kenworth tanker chase is similarly inventive and visually astounding, keeping its many pieces in constant, conflicting motion. While John Glen's direction is, as ever, artistically lacking, especially without the vibrant locations of movies past, his straightforward framing keeps the action clean and geographically clear, allowing the actors and stuntwork to sell the excitement rather than directorial embellishment, a welcome relief from today's shakycam addiction.
It's not surprising that the movie is the series' most divisive consider how starkly its tone diverges from that of its more lighthearted predecessors. It's a brave move finally receiving credit for being well ahead of its time, doing to even more powerful effect what Craig's interpretation of the character would be lauded for seventeen years later. In some respects, that so many are turned off by it shows how effectively it sells the impact of its central idea, an angry Bond going rogue on a mission of vengeance, even if it perhaps fails to recognise that what mainstream moviegoers wanted from a Bond movie was not quite so challenging and aggressive, no matter how essentially true to the book character. Its struggle to hit the expected standards of box office success is mainly attributable to confused marketing and its release in the midst of a packed summer, though claims of it being a financial failure are wide of the mark.
Nevertheless, it's a powerhouse of a swansong for Dalton, easily the most dramatically nuanced actor to play the role, and a movie which even its most ardent detractors have to admit contains some fantastic individual elements, even if there's disagreement on whether they cohere effectively. For a series often criticised for repeating the same old formula, it's a bold change of pace which retains the core of what works about the character and his movies, built around a superb leading man and supporting cast of strong character actors. It won't win over everyone and there are certainly legitimate criticisms to be made, but is certainly not an entry which can be dismissed out of hand. Also, the arrangement of the Bond theme for the gunbarrel is FANTASTIC.
