When personal loyalties conflict with his MI6 limitations, Bond turns in his credentials and goes rogue to smoke out a fugitive drug lord. Continuing the darker trend established in Timothy Dalton's first turn, 1987's The Living Daylights, this entry borrows several recurring themes from the then-tapering 1980s action boom. Our cocaine kingpin is lifted straight from the set of Scarface, reckless and bloodthirsty but insulated behind a wall of cash, and the revenge fantasy that motivates all the fireworks is, typically, pretty shallow. Not nearly as shallow as the pool of actors, mind you; a good sixty-percent of the cast must've been chosen for their pin-up potential alone.

The action scenes fare well, especially the climactic eighteen-wheeler chase along winding, mountainous roads, but those often feel like easy distractions while more substantial pots boil unwatched in another room. The premise of an outlaw 007, dodging cronies and his own jilted former handlers alike, seems ripe with fresh potential. Shame it's never exploited for more than an odd sniper scene at the Hemingway House, then mindlessly hand-waved off after the bad guy's dealt with.

Licence to Kill has moments, but too often it feels like it's straining to be something it's not. Are those growing pains, as the franchise storms into its fourth decade, or desperate attempts to keep up with the times?