The Living Daylights (1987)

Despite being a bit of a James Bond geek, I have to confess to having not seen most of the films in several years. To be fair, I've been living overseas for a few years, far away from the massive 20-film DVD box set that weighs down the fourth shelf of my new bookcase. But perhaps most crucially, since the arrival of Daniel Craig's superb 007, it's tough to settle for anything less.

That said, if there's one era of films it's worth revisiting in light of Craig's brooding, bloody and brilliant Bond, it's Timothy Dalton's. While Dalton has a sizeable following among hardcore fans, his two 007 outings are largely overlooked by the general public. Now that audiences have accepted a Bond who doesn't raise an eyebrow or offer up a groan-inducing quip at every opportunity, it's as good a time as any to return to revisit Dalton's debut Bond film, 1987's The Living Daylights.

The fifteenth 007 film was initially conceived as a Casino Royale-esque origin story exploring James Bond's roots. Despite this idea being shelved, The Living Daylights is a clear return to the character's edgier roots. Shying away from the excesses of the Roger Moore era, The Living Daylights is a great send-off as the series' last Cold War thriller.

Ian Fleming's "The Living Daylights", one of several short stories posthumously collected in Octopussy and The Living Daylights, is niftily used by screenwriters Michael G. Wilson and Richard Maibaum as a launching pad for the movie's fairly down-to-earth plot, which sees 007 assisting with the defection of a KGB agent. When the defector is subsequently abducted from British hands, Bond discovers a plot by a war-obsessed arms dealer to frame a Soviet general for the murder of a number of British spies.

Dalton, a Shakespearean-trained actor, has a fine understanding of Fleming's character, imbuing him with a dark, often nasty streak (witness the violent way in which he uses General Pushkin's mistress as a distraction). The actor had previously turned down the part in 1968 before vying for the role in The Living Daylights alongside Sam Neill and Pierce Brosnan (who accepted the role before NBC renewed his Remington Steele contract); both of whom lack Dalton's steely seriousness.

The film isn't entirely devoid of humour, and, unlike Dalton's violent follow-up Licence to Kill, most of it is well-placed. Dalton's grim delivery of Bond's one-liners – sparingly used here – lends some black humour to the proceedings.

The supporting cast is led by Maryam d'Abo as Kara Milovy, a professional cellist with whom Bond shares a surprisingly deep relationship. D'Abo makes the most of a pretty beefy Bond girl role. John Rhys-Davies is enjoyable as the underused General Pushkin, a part originally written as General Gogol, Walter Gotell's recurring KGB boss (the role was re-scripted when Gotell fell ill, though he does cameo during the film's final scene). Robert Brown, Geoffrey Keen and Desmond Llewellyn all reprise their recurring roles, outshining an embarrassingly wooden Caroline Bliss in her first appearance as the new Miss Moneypenny.

Where The Living Daylights does flag is in its lack of a strong – or even lead – villain. While Jeroen Krabbé has lots of fun as the slimy Koskov, Andreas Wisniewski's Necros is little more than a diet Red Grant, and Joe Don Baker, who would later return to the series to play a CIA ally in two of Pierce Brosnan's films, fails to leave an impression as arms dealer Brad Whitaker.

Director John Glen, who previously helmed Roger Moore's last three Bond films, is reinvigorated by the series' more serious approach. Despite a character-intensive script, the film does deliver some knockout action sequences. A training exercise gone awry on Gibraltar's rocky landscape makes for a memorable pre-credits sequence, while a Tangier-set rooftop chase and a thrilling climax involving a drugs-laden cargo plane are also among the action highlights.

Veteran Bond composer John Barry returns to compose his final 007 score, an unusually electronics-heavy soundtrack that ranks among his best. The most successful Bond soundtracks always use a great song as a base, and The Living Daylights has not one, but three. In addition to a-ha's catchy title song, The Pretenders contribute two excellent tracks that also form the basis of Barry's score: the brash "Where Has Every Body Gone" and "If There Was a Man", a sweet romantic ballad that also closes the film.

For fans of Daniel Craig's Bond who may not be acquainted with some of the earlier films in the series, The Living Daylights is a great place to start.