The Living Daylights marked the end of an era for the Bond franchise in some ways, being the last film in the series to have a Cold War theme, thanks to the imminent downfall of the Berlin Wall, and also the last to boast a score by John Barry. In other respects, however, it marked a new beginning. With the aged Roger Moore finally stepping aside, TLD saw respected Welsh actor Timothy Dalton become the fourth official James Bond, a role he had first been linked with at the time of On Her Majesty's Secret Service. After the jokiness and campness that had pervaded the Moore era, Dalton was keen to play OO7 in a much more serious manner, and as preparation for the role he read all of Ian Fleming's original novels. The result in TLD is one of the most impressive interpretations of Bond to grace the big screen, an all-too human secret agent possessing a cold ruthlessness but also real emotions. Not since the early Connery films had OO7 been presented in such a realistic light, and Dalton's performance in both his Bond films is probably the closest any actor has got to portraying Fleming's original character.
Taken as a whole, TLD matches Dalton's sombre performance by being one of the more down-to-earth Bond extravaganzas, a stylish Cold War spy thriller focusing on the defection to the West of Koskov, a leading KGB man who turns out to be in cahoots with a renegade American general-turned-arms dealer called Whitaker. There is plenty of the great action and stunning locations we expect from Bond films, most notably when OO7 and Kara Milovy sledge downhill on a cello case, and in the superbly staged fight on the plane towards the end, in which Bond does battle with yet another blonde henchman. Although not one of the prettiest Bond girls, Maryam d'Abo does have charm and a certain amount of spirit as Kara, and there are also great performances from John Rhys Davies as Pushkin and Jeroen Krabbe as the villainous but charming Koskov. As for the MI6 regulars, Desmond Llewelyn turns in his normal reliable performance as Q, while Robert Brown returns as M and Caroline Bliss takes over from the long-serving Lois Maxwell as Moneypenny, although she doesn't get much of a chance to make an impression. Meanwhile Walter Gotell returns once more for a brief appearance as General Gogol (his last), and Thomas Wheatley is quite impressive as Saunders, Bond's ill-fated ally in the field.
TLD therefore has a lot going for it, but as it happens I think it falls just short of being a true Bond classic. One problem is the plot, which is too convoluted and becomes quite confusing by the time Bond and Kara reach Afghanistan. The major flaw, however, is the way the villains are underused. Koskov and Whitaker had promise as opponents for OO7, not least because for a change they are not seeking world domination, but you don't see enough of them. Joe Don Baker has fun with the role of Whitaker and his obsession with military history, but he does not get enough screen time to flesh the character out properly, and his final showdown with Bond is perfunctory. The film is also overlong, and A-ha's theme tune is pretty bad, a badly dated mess which could only have been recorded in the mid-to-late 80s.
Despite the flaws, however, TLD is still one of the better Bond efforts, not least because it puts OO7 back in touch with his roots and doesn't play things for laughs. In the final analysis, it gets Dalton's all-too-brief Bond career off to a good start, and paves the way for the gritty, hard-edged tone of the excellent Licence to Kill two years later.
Taken as a whole, TLD matches Dalton's sombre performance by being one of the more down-to-earth Bond extravaganzas, a stylish Cold War spy thriller focusing on the defection to the West of Koskov, a leading KGB man who turns out to be in cahoots with a renegade American general-turned-arms dealer called Whitaker. There is plenty of the great action and stunning locations we expect from Bond films, most notably when OO7 and Kara Milovy sledge downhill on a cello case, and in the superbly staged fight on the plane towards the end, in which Bond does battle with yet another blonde henchman. Although not one of the prettiest Bond girls, Maryam d'Abo does have charm and a certain amount of spirit as Kara, and there are also great performances from John Rhys Davies as Pushkin and Jeroen Krabbe as the villainous but charming Koskov. As for the MI6 regulars, Desmond Llewelyn turns in his normal reliable performance as Q, while Robert Brown returns as M and Caroline Bliss takes over from the long-serving Lois Maxwell as Moneypenny, although she doesn't get much of a chance to make an impression. Meanwhile Walter Gotell returns once more for a brief appearance as General Gogol (his last), and Thomas Wheatley is quite impressive as Saunders, Bond's ill-fated ally in the field.
TLD therefore has a lot going for it, but as it happens I think it falls just short of being a true Bond classic. One problem is the plot, which is too convoluted and becomes quite confusing by the time Bond and Kara reach Afghanistan. The major flaw, however, is the way the villains are underused. Koskov and Whitaker had promise as opponents for OO7, not least because for a change they are not seeking world domination, but you don't see enough of them. Joe Don Baker has fun with the role of Whitaker and his obsession with military history, but he does not get enough screen time to flesh the character out properly, and his final showdown with Bond is perfunctory. The film is also overlong, and A-ha's theme tune is pretty bad, a badly dated mess which could only have been recorded in the mid-to-late 80s.
Despite the flaws, however, TLD is still one of the better Bond efforts, not least because it puts OO7 back in touch with his roots and doesn't play things for laughs. In the final analysis, it gets Dalton's all-too-brief Bond career off to a good start, and paves the way for the gritty, hard-edged tone of the excellent Licence to Kill two years later.