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By
NICK ZEGARAC
"License to Kill" (1989) is
an inanely dismal installment to the Bond
franchise that is best forgotten. It stars Timothy
Dalton in his second and final performance. After
aiding old time friend and FBI man, Felix Leiter
(David Hedison) in a drug bust, and standing up
for Felix at his wedding, Bond returns hours later
to discover Felix's wife is dead and that Felix is
barely clinging to life after being fed to a
shark. Seems drug lord, Franz Sanchez (Robert
Davi) was none too thrilled about Bond and
Leiter's bust. From his posh villa in Mexico,
Sanchez is perfectly content to let bygones be
bygones. But Bond wants revenge. Told to drop
things by his superiors, Bond defies the British
government, is stripped of his double-0 ranking
and embarks upon a campaign of revenge. To this
end he seems perfectly in tune with the
aspirations of Pam Bouvier (Carey Lowell), an
undercover FBI agent assigned to pick up where
Felix left off. Together, Bond and Bouvier prowl
the backstreets of Mexico City, doing battle with
Sanchez's psychotic henchman, Dario (a very young,
Benicio Del Toro) while Bond attempts to bleed
Sanchez maul, Lupe Lamore (Talisa Soto) for
information.
What is particularly disappointing about this film
is the sudden absence of fundamental elements that
we have come to expect from a Bond movie; scantily
clad women, witty one liners, memorable action
sequences -- and above all else -- a certain
amount of seriousness on the part of the actors to
suspend the audience in the art of make believe.
But there is nothing even remotely engaging about
a misguided vignette that has Wayne Newton cast as
a charlatan leader of a religious cult. Nor is
there anything memorable about the brief moments
of action that round out an otherwise boring movie
in which the bulk of the plot concentrates on
Sanchez -- sneering and plotting while other men
with guns shoot it out with Bond and Bouvier.
MGM/UA's DVD is the absolute worst transfer of any
of the Bond movies. Riddled in aliasing,
pixelization, shimmering of fine details and
severe edge enhancement, the video is never stable
long enough to appreciate the story -- such as it
is. Colors are dated with overly pink flesh tones,
weak contrast levels and a generally gritty
digital that is distracting to say the least.
Blacks are more deep gray, whites are either
blooming or dull and age-related artifacts are
quite obvious throughout -- much more so than
expected for a film of this vintage. The audio is
stereo surround, but is generally strident and
lacking in bass. Extras include two documentaries,
audio commentaries, promotional materials and the
film's theatrical trailer. |
