Licence to Kill (1989)

Introduction

Licence to Kill is the sixteenth James Bond film, and the second—and final—outing for Timothy Dalton as 007. Released in the summer of 1989, the film diverged sharply from the glamorous escapism of previous entries. It abandoned the globe-trotting fantasy and gadget-laden spectacle of Roger Moore's tenure for something darker, more grounded, and emotionally intense.

Dalton's Bond here is less a suave super-spy than a driven, haunted man on a personal mission of vengeance. Stripped of his licence to kill, he goes rogue to take down a powerful drug lord who maimed his friend and murdered his wife. The result is one of the most visceral and brutal entries in the Bond canon.

Critically divisive at the time of release and underperforming at the U.S. box office, Licence to Kill has since undergone a critical reappraisal. Today, it's often praised for its ahead-of-its-time tone, complex protagonist, and influence on the Daniel Craig era.

Plot Summary

The story begins with Bond and his CIA friend Felix Leiter (David Hedison, reprising his role from Live and Let Die) apprehending the notorious drug lord Franz Sanchez (Robert Davi) in the Florida Keys—just in time for Felix’s wedding. But the victory is short-lived.

Sanchez escapes custody with inside help, brutally murders Felix’s wife, and feeds Felix to a shark, leaving him maimed but alive.

When Bond’s request to investigate is denied by MI6, he resigns and goes rogue. His mission is no longer about Queen and country—it’s personal. Without official support, he infiltrates Sanchez’s organization, manipulating its members and sowing distrust from within.

Bond's path takes him to the fictional South American nation of Isthmus, where Sanchez operates under the guise of a legitimate businessman. Along the way, Bond is aided by:

Pam Bouvier (Carey Lowell), a tough and resourceful CIA pilot

Q (Desmond Llewelyn), who defies orders to support Bond in the field

Lupe Lamora (Talisa Soto), Sanchez’s abused mistress

Bond’s increasingly ruthless methods raise questions about his morality and the price of revenge. The film culminates in a spectacular desert tanker chase and a fiery confrontation between Bond and Sanchez.

Themes and Tone

Revenge and Personal Justice

This is the first Bond film to make personal vengeance the central narrative driver. Rather than stopping a megalomaniac from world domination, Bond is avenging a close friend. This shift results in a grittier, more emotionally charged story.

The Spy Gone Rogue

Bond’s resignation from MI6 is a bold narrative choice. Stripped of bureaucratic protection, he becomes a shadowy figure navigating cartel territory, relying on improvisation, deception, and instinct. This is a Bond far removed from the tuxedoed charmer of earlier films.

War on Drugs

Reflecting the geopolitical climate of the late 1980s, the film taps into real-world anxieties about drug trafficking, corruption, and CIA complicity. Franz Sanchez feels less like a comic-book villain and more like a Pablo Escobar-type figure with political protection and business acumen.

Moral Ambiguity

Bond manipulates allies, commits cold-blooded murders, and nearly lets an innocent man be executed to maintain his cover. This ethical greyness makes Licence to Kill one of the most complex Bond films thematically.

Performances

Timothy Dalton as James Bond

Dalton’s performance is riveting. He portrays Bond as a man on the edge—grim, brooding, and often frightening. His commitment to grounding the character in Ian Fleming’s original novels pays off here more than in The Living Daylights. His Bond is vulnerable, emotionally reactive, and human, yet still lethal.

Dalton lacks the quippy charisma of Connery or the theatrical flair of Moore, but he brings a Shakespearean intensity that anticipates Daniel Craig's interpretation decades later.

Robert Davi as Franz Sanchez

Sanchez is one of the most believable Bond villains. Robert Davi plays him with icy charm and calculated menace. He rewards loyalty and punishes betrayal with brutal finality. His genuine affection for Bond—whom he believes to be a loyal mercenary—makes their final showdown even more powerful.

Carey Lowell as Pam Bouvier

Pam is one of the most capable Bond girls of the franchise. A former army pilot and CIA contact, she’s smart, resourceful, and assertive. She’s not a damsel in distress, but a partner who saves Bond more than once. Carey Lowell brings strength and warmth to the role.

Benicio del Toro as Dario

In one of his earliest film roles, a young Benicio del Toro plays Dario, Sanchez’s sadistic enforcer. He’s unnerving and memorable, delivering one of the franchise’s most quietly terrifying henchmen with minimal screen time.

Desmond Llewelyn as Q

Q plays a larger role than usual, acting as Bond’s unofficial field assistant. Llewelyn, usually the comic relief, balances dry wit with genuine loyalty here, giving the character added depth.

Direction and Visual Style

John Glen, directing his fifth and final Bond film, leans hard into realism. The film eschews exotic sets and fantastical plots in favour of gritty locations and practical action.

The action sequences are brutal and inventive:

A barroom brawl featuring shotguns and swordfish

A wave runner escape and mid-air plane hijacking

A climactic tanker truck chase across a winding desert road, one of the most impressive stunts in Bond history

The violence is graphic for a Bond film—people are dismembered, burned alive, crushed, and impaled. The film had to be heavily edited in the U.S. to avoid an R rating, and its intensity marks a clear break from the lighter tone of previous entries.

Music

Michael Kamen replaces John Barry as composer, bringing a harder-edged orchestral style. Known for scoring Lethal Weapon and Die Hard, Kamen brings tension and emotional undercurrents to the action.

The title song, “Licence to Kill” by Gladys Knight, is a soulful ballad that evokes Shirley Bassey’s classic Bond themes. While not a chart-topping hit, it fits the film’s dramatic tone well.

Legacy and Reappraisal

Initially, Licence to Kill was seen as a misstep, partly due to poor marketing, a lack of support from United Artists, and changing audience expectations. However, over time, critics and fans have recognized its importance as a precursor to the modern Bond film.

Without Licence to Kill, the grittier, emotionally driven stories of the Craig era—especially Casino Royale and Quantum of Solace—might never have happened. Dalton's interpretation, once criticized for being “too serious,” is now lauded for its faithfulness to Fleming’s vision.

Conclusion

Licence to Kill is a bold, daring entry that took real risks with the Bond formula. It trades vodka martinis and jetpacks for blood, sweat, and vendettas. While divisive in its day, it now stands as one of the franchise’s most artistically ambitious and narratively focused films.

Dalton’s Bond may have been ahead of his time, but Licence to Kill proves that taking Bond seriously—morally, emotionally, and dramatically—can pay off in spades.

A gritty, intense, and emotionally charged Bond film that broke the mould long before it was fashionable. Dalton’s Bond is a revelation, and the film’s realism and moral ambiguity mark it as a hidden gem in the 007 legacy.