Anna-Maria insisted that we see this film primarily based on her
appreciation for director Steven Soderbergh’s work. This film might not
be appreciated by wide audiences used to the typical Hollywood fare, but
it creates intimacy and insight that lead to a powerful revelation.
To summarize in short, Limey is a classic psychological mystery.
Terence Stamp makes a return to the screen in a starring role playing Wilson, a Brit fresh
out of jail, who comes to Los Angeles to investigate his daughter's death
in a car wreck.
Anna-Maria enthuses about the structure of the film. The story cuts back
and forth from the present to flash backs to flash forwards to internal
dialogue. A hand-held camera's close-ups make us feel Wilson’s every
uneasy breath. The jagged ensemble of shots seems distracting at first,
but all the pieces fall together at the end.
Craig notes that his experience is often marred when a film jumps too
much in time, and when the characters mix their speaking with telling us
their thoughts. He is somewhat linear in his mind set and easily confused. However, we both agree that, in
Limey, the techniques are used with good effect.
Like the scene inter-cutting suggests, beneath his tough exterior,
Wilson is a man torn to pieces. He spent most of his life in jail because
he couldn’t give up the thrill of robbery. He is really chasing the
ghosts of his criminal past and the sacrifice he made to live it;
primarily, failing to create a connection with his daughter. Now that he
is gray-haired and free the physical confines of jail, at a time when he might yet pick up the pieces
and start anew, he finds that the only person that means something to him,
his daughter, is dead -- probably murdered.
This torments him and ignites his need to punish those who have cut
short his possible reconnection with her. He will stop at nothing to get
to Terry Valentine (Peter Fonda), the entertainment mogul Wilson considers responsible for his
daughter’s death. Wilson’s head-on style of dealing with the creeps
and thugs is
quite amusing. Add to that his heavy industrial British accent, and you get an
unusual, yet charming modern hero.
Of course, punishing the bad guys feels good, but in a moment of
amazing revelation, when at gun point Terry Valentine confesses how the
daughter died, Wilson puts back together the fragmented memories of her
that have been churning in his mind only to realize that he is ultimately
responsible for her death because of the way he lived. What a powerful
moment. Even if you find the movie distracting and strange because of the
jumpy editing, it is sure worth seeing just for that final confrontation.
What a marvelous performance by Terence Stamp. Rarely do we feel so
intimate with a screen character in a way that allows us to carry forth
his guilt and a lesson about just how much everything we do influences
those who love us and who we were destined to love, but didn’t.
