‘License to Kill’ (PG-13)

Remember James Bond movies -- those airy escapes to exotic lands, where devilish Sean Connery sported human hair and saved the Western world from diabolical megalomaniacs while frolicking with girls, girls, girls?

Remember Playboy magazine?

"Licence to Kill," 007's latest Never-Say-ERA-Again voyage, heads nostalgically for Club Bond and other points Bunny, equipped with the requisite state-of-the-art gadgetry -- and scenery. Playboy subscribers and other flashlight owners will be glad to know the girls (cottontail rivals Carey Lowell and Talisa Soto) trip over each other's bikini strings to get to Bond, and opening-sequence meister Maurice Binder still favors smoking guns and lissome gals.

But this cruise is also a gruesome one. You may find yourself shaken -- not stirred -- by the screenwriting cruelty and cynicism behind the 16th "Bond."

Take the early "Jaws" assault that sets second-time Bond Timothy Dalton in vengeful motion: Drug henchmen throw his CIA buddy David Hedison into the shark pool, but instead of offing the guy, the "Bond" crew (including producer-for-life Albert R. Broccoli and regular cohorts, director John Glen and co-writers Michael G. Wilson and Richard Maibaum) makes him survive. Later, the double amputee, whose new bride was recently blown away, cheerily suggests a fishing trip with Bond. What's a dead wife and a coupla flesh wounds between agent-pals?

Then there's the diabolical drug czar, the facially ravaged Robert ("Die Hard") Davi, who cuts out the heart of his girlfriend Soto's lover. ("It's my fault," says the less-than-Thespian Soto later. "I did something wrong that made him angry.") Or how about the unfortunate fellow who finds out just how those automatic, slice-and-dice cocaine processors really work?

With its license-to-crib mix of drug running, Uzi blowouts and 18-wheeler jockeying, all taking place between Key West and Isthmus City, "Licence" might appeal to those of you currently bored with your "Rambo," "Miami Vice" and "Raiders of the Lost Ark" videotapes. There's also a checkoff list for Bond fans -- some "Dr. No" underwater action, casino games, aerial stunts (the most spectacular towing job you'll ever see), the requisite martini-preparation instruction and of course cameos from the alphabet people -- Robert Brown's "M" and Desmond Llewelyn's "Q."

But don't be surprised if, at the end of this trip, you feel just a little queasy.