When KGB chief General Pushkin enters his hotel suite for a rendezvous with his mistress, he is startled to discover James Bond already present.  Pushkin’s mistress is understandably distressed by the presence of the armed intruder.

Bond points his gun at Pushkin, frisks him, and orders him to be seated on a chair near the suite’s bed.  When Pushkin attempts to sit, Bond knocks the chair away, causing Pushkin to land on his back.  When Pushkin’s mistress rises in panic due to the violence, Bond ferociously warns her by aiming his gun at her.

Bond begins to interrogate Pushkin when the KGB master surreptitiously alerts his bodyguard outside his room via a device on his watch.  Upon noticing this, Bond strikes Pushkin and rips away the mistress’s bathrobe, leaving her exposed.  The exposed mistress serves as a momentary distraction for the bodyguard who enters the room.  Bond then ruthlessly strikes and incapacitates the bodyguard and orders the mistress to hide in the bathroom as he prepares to eliminate Pushkin.

This was a scene from Timothy Dalton’s first film as Bond, The Living Daylights (1987). 

Such unvarnished ruthlessness was unimaginable for the cinematic Bond before Dalton.  There was no forced humor or double-entendre quips about the exposed woman.  Dalton was playing Bond the way Ian Fleming had envisioned him: a determined, ruthless agent who will do all it takes to accomplish his mission.  He is a patriot, but his morals evolve based on the task at hand. 

Dalton was approached to play Bond in the late 1960s and 1970s, but he accepted the offer after Roger Moore retired from Bond in 1985, and the producers agreed to his demand that the films return Fleming’s vision of Bond. 

Dalton’s attitude toward the part is reflected in the following quotes:

Roger Moore was brilliant at what he did, but I couldn’t simply copy what he’d done. The movies had become somewhat of a pastiche before you go too long you’ve become a parody of yourself, you’ve lost depth, you’ve lost texture, you start to get shallow.

For the films to work, you’ve got to go back to the beginning. He was a hero who murdered in cold blood. The dirtiest, toughest, meanest, nastiest hero we’d ever seen, this is what started those movies.

I felt it would be wrong to pluck the character out of thin air, or to base him on any of my predecessors’ interpretations. Instead, I went to the man who had created him, and I was astonished. I’d read a couple of the books years ago, and I thought I’d find them trivial now, but I thoroughly enjoyed every one. It’s not just that they’ve a terrific sense of adventure and you get very involved. On those pages, I discovered a Bond I’d never seen on the screen, a quite extraordinary man, a man I really wanted to play, a man of contradictions and opposites.

Your opportunities for depth and for developing a character depend on what the story allows you, of course. But I went to the books – not the films, even the early ones – I went to Ian Fleming’s books for the character of Bond. It happens that the early films captured the spirit of Fleming’s Bond best. That Bond is capable of behaving objectively, as a professional, but he can respond with revulsion to the terrible things that happen.

The Living Daylight (1987) owes its title to Fleming’s short story, the plot of which also forms the basis of the first act of the film.

The film had all the elements that made the Bonds successful: exotic locations, gadgets, handsomely mounted action scenes, breathtaking stunts, and humor.  But they were all rooted in reality. 

The film was a financial success, grossing $191.2 million worldwide against a budget of $40 million, and Dalton received rave reviews for his strong screen presence and his performance. 

Some critics seemed irked over the serious tone of the film and Dalton’s Bond, whereas others welcomed the return to Fleming’s roots.

The success of The Living Daylights emboldened Dalton and the makers to explore darker and more personal aspects of Bond that had remained untouched since On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (1969).

Licence to Kill didn’t directly draw its plot from any of the Fleming works, but it had elements from Fleming’s novel Live and Let Die and the short story ”The Hildebrand Rarity.”

The film had elements of Kurosawa’s Yojimbo, where Bond plots his way into the inner circle of Sanchez and then begins instigating and setting up Sanchez’s allies against him. 

The script presented Dalton with copious opportunities to display his talents, and he rose triumphantly to the challenge.  This wasn’t just a great Bond performance, but a great performance overall.

This was the first time audiences saw Bond on a personal vendetta and displaying insubordination and his pugnacious attitude toward the service.  There were hints that Bond hadn’t entirely recovered from the death of his wife, Teresa.  There were moments when Bond seemed to lose his sanity and become a victim of paranoia.  We learn that beneath his tough exterior, Bond is a sensitive individual who cares deeply for his friends.

The film had its humor, such as Bond quipping, “I guess this is a farewell to arms” when he surrenders his Walther after his license to kill is revoked at the former residence of Ernest Hemingway in Key West.

The film was a financial success, grossing $156.2 million worldwide against a budget of $32 million.  However, it was the least financially successful Bond film in the U.S. and has the lowest inflation-adjusted box office return and profit margin among the official Bond films.

After Licence to Kill, the Bond Producers and MGM/UA had a four-year legal dispute, which delayed the production of a third Bond film that Dalton was contracted to appear in.  Dalton’s contract as Bond had expired by the time the legal issues were resolved.  When a new contract was offered, Dalton rejected it, citing the long gap between films and declaring that he had moved on. 

Alas, two films were insufficient to leave much of an impact.  Had Dalton continued, he would he would have been regarded as favorably as Connery, Moore, and Craig.

Dalton assessed his tenure as Bond as follows:

We wanted to take it back to that earlier toughness. But, of course, it’s got to be funny. It should be funny. Out of great danger often comes great humor. But when we made “The Living Daylights” and “Licence to Kill,” everybody by then was so used to something else. I think people like to stay with what they’re comfortable.

Audiences didn’t care what the contents of Fleming’s novels were about; they wanted to have a good time at the cinema, and Roger Moore’s films certainly offered easy and predictable entertainment.  When things changed drastically, they were repelled. 

Dalton’s films were riveting but not entertaining. 

Licence to Kill even had scenes that caused some audience members to turn away from the screen.  In 1989, audiences weren’t keen to see a traumatized Bond struggle and go through hell for two hours.

But history has been much kinder to Dalton.

Audiences who enjoyed Daniel Craig’s darker, more violent, and realistic Bond pictures have revisited Dalton’s Bond movies and admired what he achieved.  Ace filmmaker Christopher Nolan ranked Dalton his favorite Bond.  Film critics who scoffed at Dalton’s films at the time of their release have revisited them and now rank them highly.  Many Bond fan forums now wish that Dalton had done another film.  They even hope he returns as an older and wiser Bond, the way Harrison Ford played Indiana Jones recently.

Dalton was ahead of his time, and it is truly wonderful that he is now receiving the respect and admiration from fans that he always deserved.

Here’s wishing the great actor a very happy (belated) birthday.