LIMEY, THE

"'They call me the Seeker, I've been searching low and high; I won't get what I'm after, until the day I die.' With these enigmatic lyrics from The Who, we are drawn into the compelling world of Steven Soderbergh's The Limey, a fascinating insight into two cultures, two career criminals and two worlds while two diverse universes are inextricably linked. Soderbergh's master stroke is the astute casting of 60s icons Terence Stamp and Peter Fonda, whose roles eerily echo their body of work. Both Stamp and Fonda are superb and elevate this revenge thriller into a filmmaking feat. It's as though both actors have skimmed decades, springboarding from their pivotal 60s roles to not so different characters today. Stamp's Wilson echoes his Wilson in Ken Loach's Poor Cow, and watching a young, handsome Stamp in that original footage is mind blowing in this context. Fonda's slippery decadence of lifestyle mirrors that Easy Rider role for which he is always remembered; it's a trip worth taking. Add to this potent mix, the flair and skill of Soderbergh, whose judgement of edgy direction and editing is beyond question, and you have a treat in store. Much of the intrigue comes from the stop start nature the music triggers and sense of waiting while discovering whether the action is real or imagined. Guns, drugs, murder, mystery and an unexpected sense of humour is the offering. And if you're wondering what does the title mean, The Limey is slang for a Brit, a term once used by British sailors who used to drink lime-juice to combat scurvy. Of course here there's no scurvy, but the affliction is an insatiable compulsion for revenge by an English ex-con at large in LA. The Limey is a deft delight."
Louise Keller

"Made before Erin Brokovich and Traffic, The Limey has been rescued from straight to video fate thanks to director Steven Soderbergh's strong showing at this year's Academy Awards. Without the attention generated by his dual nominations, this tough crime drama tale would probably have joined Kafka (1992), Schizopolis and Gray's Anatomy (both 1997) in the ranks of unseen Soderbergh films. That would have been a shame because The Limey has dialogue, pacing and performances to make it much more than your average revenge film. Like Lee Marvin in Point Blank (1967) Wilson is a man of iron will who simply can't be stopped by beatings inflicted by Valentine's heavies or the contract killers (including former Warhol superstar Joe Dallesandro) who follow once his quarry realises just who he's up against. Lem Dobbs' screenplay bristles with pungent dialogue as Wilson despatches all comers and sets up precisely the showdown with Valentine he wants. After infiltrating Valentine's swanky house in the hills and tossing a bodyguard off a bridge he has the opportunity to nail his target but decides to wait because "he's got to know why". Wilson's psychological profile is as fascinating as his ability to dish out and absorb sudden bouts of extreme violence. Flashbacks lifted from Ken Loach's 1967 drama Poor Cow - starring Stamp at the height of his beauty - are superbly integrated to reveal Wilson's troubled past. More than that, these moments also comment on Stamp himself - an icon of 60s cinema whose career went awry before returning with redeeming performances just like this. Stamp isn't the only one whose past is on screen. Peter Fonda gives a wonderful performance as a character Captain America from Easy Rider might have become had he survived that redneck's bullet. One of the moments to treasure in The Limey is Valentine's summation/deconstruction of what the 60s actually were. Coming from Fonda, whose career peaked in 1969 and languished until Ulee's Gold in 1997, it's more than simply an aside on a moment in time. The Limey is a straightforward tale enriched by inspired casting and excellent performances from all of its leading players including Luis Guzman, Lesley Anne Warren and Barry Newman as Valentine's sleazy lawyer. Soderbergh, who further enhances proceedings by dissociating sound from image and breaking with traditional linear construction, is as ruthless as his protagonist - bringing this in at 90 very efficient minutes. By the time Wilson is finished we know he's a pro - blow by blow. "
Richard Kuipers