So this is the anti-Bond.
Stripped of the requisite wit and mischief.
Short of temper, heavy of touch.
The SPECTREs of yore replaced by a drugs cartel.
World domination downgraded to a heroin monopoly.
Glamour smothered by grit.
Joy drowned in the bloodshed.
Derivative, needlessly violent, no identity, no soul its just NOT BOND, dammit!
All nonsense, of course.
The open-minded know this brutal, brilliant outing is about as good as the series can get.
The Villain:Franz Sanchez is unquestionably the great forgotten villain of the franchise.
He possesses all the vital characteristics: charm, intelligence, ruthlessness.
A psychologically credible Bond villain is a rare and welcome beast.
And Sanchez is a fascinating specimen.
Just a drug dealer?
No more than Scaramanga is just a hitman or Goldfinger just a bank robber.
And unlike those gentlemens slightly limp exits, the exquisite Robert Davi dies hard.
The Girl:All hail Pam Bouvier, the roughest, toughest pilot in the skies.
Shotgun under the table, Berretta up the dress, Germaine Greer on the bedside table.
Okay, Germaine is a guess but an educated one.
Pam may be the first feminist Bond girl.
Say it, sister!
Steely, sassy Carey Lowell strikes a blow for Aunty Samantha.
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License To Killis a series highpoint.
As psychologically-driven as any Craig but without the Craig-era jump-and-waving, look!
License To Killditches the map and strikes deep into uncharted terrain.
Largely shorn of MI6 but powered by the mauling of Felix Leiter, present inDr.
Like the resulting film, the pre-credits is woefully underrated perhaps ignored is a more accurate term.
(At least people take the time to slag the film off.
)License To Killdoesnt have a true beginning.
This is rather brilliant narrative economy, setting up the whole film in barely ten minutes.
Most Bonds feel entirely self-contained; their characters sprung from nothing fully formed.
Hence the frequent sense of artifice, the near audible grinding of well-worn gears.
(Heres the villain, heres the lair…) Getting started can be a battle.
Smoke rises from the bonnet, the engine judders into life.
The wedding is lovely.
Then Della is murdered and Felix fed screaming to sharks.
WasOctopussyonly three films ago?
Dario (a young and beautiful Benico Del Toro) mocks Leiter by crooning, Dont worry.
We gave her a nice honeymooooon.
The drawn out vowel is nastily inspired; the line sticks, as does Leiters furious cry.
People are fed to sharks, etc.
as hes dragged underwater.
Recasting David Hedison as Felix is important.
We need familiarity with Felix; otherwise the whole vendetta loses impact.
And hes one of the finest Felixes, which helps.
But beware the easily offended).
Naturally Bond takes the warning as provocation and off we go.
Two fantastic action sequences ensue.
If the maggots dont get you, the electric eel will.
Here Bond encounters the treacherous Killifer, rendered ingeniously hateful by repeatedly calling everyone, old buddy.
Cornered at gunpoint, Bond enjoys his standard massive break of luck but every film is allowed one.
The Wavekrest scrap is even better.
As ludicrous as anything in Moore and ferociously enjoyable.
Dalton adds his own twist by harpooning the killer of his fisherman mate, Sharky.
Aboard the Wavekrest Bond meets Lupe Lamora, the unwilling Mrs Sanchez.
I question Lupe a little.
She looks at home amidst the inner sanctum in the casino.
She can drive a motorboat to the mainland and roam the city unescorted.
Sleeping with Bond literally under Sanchezs roof is incredibly foolhardy: a teenage act of rebellion.
Her hatred of Sanchez is unquestionable and justified; but she doesnt hate the lifestyle, just the life.
All this must sound incredibly harsh.
I actually love Lupe as a character.
Shes a fascinating addition to that Bondian subcategory: the Villains Woman.
(Solitaire, Pussy Galore.)
The unfortunate VG (Villains Girlfriend) finds her outlook bleak.
Ask Andrea Anders or Mayday.
But goddam it, she escapes in one piece!
Because shes a survivor.
And that is far more admirable than another sacrificial lamb to the slaughter.
Pam Bouvier isnt impeachable.
The inevitable Lupe-prompted jealousy is a false step by the writers.
Although a staunch ally, she doesnt actually do very much.
Let me rephrase: in one sense Pam does an awful lot.
But she stays on the periphery of the main action.
Shes a helper not a central player like, say, Octopussy or Anya.
Like everythingLicense To Kill, Pam is criminally overlooked but perhaps a fraction more understandably than other elements.
Shes still great though.
Perhaps the most remarkable thing about Franz Sanchez is you understand why people would work for him.
As Bond notes, he has a reputation for rewarding loyalty very well.
Sanchez wont electrocute employees on a whim.
He wont feed you to sharks if you ask to visit your sick mother.
Hed probably pay her medical bills.
He has the money, you need it.
You work for Sanchez, he looks after you.
He comes across as a warm and generous man.
He probably knows all his guards by name.
Yet no villain matches Sanchez for menace.
If he uncovered Bond, he would kill Bond.
Not quite why dont you just shoot him because Sanchez wouldnt just shoot him.
Hed exact a far nastier retribution.
But exact it he would.
If Sanchez wanted Bond dead, Bond would be killed.
Such ruthlessness is refreshing and admirable on the writers behalf.
Surely Zorin could shoot Bond and then burn down City Hall?
(Zorin is a multiple offender).
Does Kamal Khan really need Bonds company at dinner, and does the Monsoon Palace not have any cells?
Hey, you roll with it.
The yacht meeting with a nervous Crest shows Sanchez at his scariest.
Very quiet: but still waters run deep, and silent drug lords hide a volcanic temper.
One would squirm for Krest were Krest not squirming enough for himself.
Trying to make a Bond action sequence sound believable is a truly hopeless task.
…he water-skied behind the plane…threw out the pilots and flew away.
Like a little bird, purrs Sanchez and everybody gulps.
Poor Krests demise is truly horrific.
And then it happens Thats not my money!
Thats right, amigo: its mine!
Krest screams, his head swells like a balloon, then explodes.
Give me piranhas any day.
If anybody can nominate a more hideous demise the floor is yours.
License To Killearns its 15 certificate.
The film is basically a greatest hits of horrible deaths.
Pushing the boundaries or crossing a line?
You know my opinion.
Out of 17 films, this is Desmond Llewellyns finest hour.
He appears about halfway through the film and never quite leaves the most welcome of uninvited guests.
As he reminds Bond, if it hadnt been for Q branch youd have been dead long ago.
Shorn of Q, the film would be a much darker place.
At the heroin factory Bond is finally unmasked and (almost) fed into a giant shredder.
Cue one of the great threats of the series.
When youre up to your knees, snarls Sanchez, youre gonna beg to tell me everything.
When youre up to your ankles, youll kiss my arse to kill you.
The writers gift Robert Davi many zingers, and Davi duly zings.
The above line, for me, is the zingiest.
Can the series boast a finer climax than the articulated tanker demolition?
Well youre entitled to think otherwise but youd be wrong.
Bond x four massive tankers of heroin x a narrow and winding road x stinger missiles = utter perfection.
Honestly, I wouldnt change a single shot.
Massive explosion begets massive explosion.
Tanker after tanker is crashed, collided and blown up.
I loved it at an age when I shouldnt have been watching it.
And I love it now, for exactly the same reason.
The bonfire of the tankers is perfect metaphor.
Four set off, plus two stinger missiles, plus a whole load of henchman.
And one by one they all go up in flames.
The escalating destruction mirrors the erosion of Sanchezs empire: the plot of the whole film.
And both are largely self-inflicted!
The last exchange between Bond and Sanchez couldnt be improved.
Two perfect lines that perfectly encapsulate the two men and their relationship the driving force of the film.
You could have had everything, hisses Sanchez, preparing to deliver the death blow.
Dont you want to know why?
And Bond produces Felixs lighter to set his enemy ablaze.
As satisfying as they come.
Bond leans exhausted on a boulder, nearly in tears.
As an actor, you need two things to make a great Bond: vision and luck.
Lazenby couldnt establish the former, Brosnan lacked the latter.
Such a combination is rare.
Everybody tends to start strongly: of six debuts Daltons own remains the weakest (cue flak).
Nobody made a great Bond film after their third.
Of the three fourth outings,Thunderballis the best and its competition isMoonrakerandDie Another Day.
Fourth film onward, Connery and Moore experienced diminishing returns.
Fun excursions at best.
You own the role but the freshness is gone.
Each perfectly showcase their actors vision of Bond.
(Connery being Connery, he made two: the gritty and the flashy.)
A signature film is rare.
His second and final outing delivered his vision of Bond, perfectly.
Perhaps you buy into this vision, perhaps you dont.
ButLTKis unflinchingly Dalton: a Bond only he could have made.
Many fans bemoan the shortness of Tims tenure yet Dalton doesnt need to be mourned.
He made his Bond.
Few have made a better one.
Best Bit:The whole climax.
From the convoy leaving the factory to Sanchezs dying scream.
And Bond, shattered, finally at his journeys end.
Worst Bit:Bonds hair in the casino.
Gel is not your friend, Timothy.
Final Thought:Beautiful mention of Tracy by Felix: He was married once.
But that was a long time ago.
Informs Bonds determination to avenge the Leiters.
Although was Felix flirting with that nurse at the end?
Somebodys on the rebound.
