30/03/2012

BlogalongaBond: The Living Daylights (1987)

After suffering through what felt like years of Roger Moore's wandering eyebrow, we've finally reached the dawn of a new Bond. And not just any Bond; a strapping green-eyed Bond with a luscious mane and chin dimple deep enough to swim in. Like Connery and unlike Moore, Timothy Dalton has an aura and commanding screen presence that makes you believe he's the only Bond there's ever been. Even his hefty fag habit can't deter lusty thoughts and tickling ovaries from every human being on the receiving end of his piercing gaze. He's basically the original Don Draper.

Dalton makes his mark immediately in a sombre opening that confirms that The Living Daylights is going to be a spy film about spies with absolutely no transforming gondolas, underground lairs and double-taking pigeons. HURRAY FOR EVERYTHING! Still, I do wonder why Bond's got a bee in his bonnet as from the outset it's clear that he really doesn't give a fuck. Everyone is an inconvenience to him and apart from name-dropping the title, shagging a lady pre-credits and engaging in some delightfully light flirtation with the new Moneypenny, he doesn't look all that fussed about anything. That all changes (a bit) when Kara Milovy shows up; a typically useless Bond girl with her brains in her tits who's integral to the plot instead of being just another one of Bond's disposable cum buckets (sorry, mum). Their relationship and feelings slowly develop in such a sweet manner that I swear I even let out an actual "aww" during one of their scenes that didn't feature a cello case. She even manages to get Dalton to crack a smile. Look! Look how fucking elated he is!

Plot-wise it's lovely to be free of loons with weird accents who're destined to be dropped down a pipe but dare I say it, The Living Daylights is a bit flat, a bit dry and a bit devoid of charm. But The Dalton carries everything so magnificently I can't harp on too much; I appreciate its greatness, I just don't particularly enjoy watching it. Luckily License To Kill is only a few days away and I'm so excited I might poo my pants.

Next Month: License To Kill. *throws knickers away*