License To Kill (1989) is an inanely dismal installment to the Bond franchise that is best forgotten. It stars Timothy Dalton in his second and final performance. After aiding old time friend and FBI man, Felix Leiter (David Hedison) in a drug bust, and standing up for Felix at his wedding, Bond returns hours later to discover Felix's wife is dead and that Felix is barely clinging to life after being fed to a shark. Seems drug lord, Franz Sanchez (Robert Davi) was none too thrilled about Bond and Leiter's bust. From his posh villa in Mexico, Sanchez is perfectly content to let bygones be bygones. But Bond wants revenge. <br /><br />Told to drop things by his superiors, Bond defies the British government, is stripped of his double-o ranking and embarks upon a campaign of revenge. To this end he seems perfectly in tune with the aspirations of Pam Bouvier (Carey Lowell), an undercover FBI agent assigned to pick up where Felix left off. Together, Bond and Bouvier prowl the back streets of Mexico City, doing battle with Sanchez's psychotic henchman, Dario (a very young, Benicio Del Toro) while Bond attempts to bleed Sanchez maul, Lupe Lamore (Talisa Soto) for information.<br /><br />What is particularly disappointing about this film is the sudden absence of fundamental elements that we have come to expect from a Bond movie; scantily clad women, witty one liners, memorable action sequences  and above all else  a certain amount of seriousness on the part of the actors to suspend the audience in the art of make believe. But there is nothing even remotely engaging about a misguided vignette that has Wayne Newton cast as a charlatan leader of a religious cult. Nor is there anything memorable about the brief moments of action that round out an otherwise boring movie in which the bulk of the plot concentrates on Sanchez  sneering and plotting while other men with guns shoot it out with Bond and Bouvier.<br /><br />MGM/UA's DVD is the absolute worst transfer of any of the Bond movies. Riddled in aliasing, pixelization, shimmering of fine details and severe edge enhancement, the video is never stable long enough to appreciate the story  such as it is. Colors are dated with overly pink flesh tones, weak contrast levels and a generally gritty digital that is distracting to say the least. Blacks are more deep gray, whites are either blooming or dull and age related artifacts are quite obvious throughout  much more so than expected for a film of this vintage. The audio is stereo surround, but is generally strident and lacking in bass. Extras include two documentaries, audio commentaries, promotional materials and the film's theatrical trailer.