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The
Limey (1999)
I
love the way Steven Soderbergh made "The Limey." Even
if the plot is threadbare. Even if the ending can be
seen coming a mile away. Even if the film is horribly
short. I still love it. It's a homage to late 20th century
cinematic history.
The film bounces around in time and space like some
sort of non-linear astronaut buzzing around in the interior
of Stanley Kurbrick's brain. Quentin Tarantino stops
by for an extended visit. Warhol pops in. Linklater
says "Hi." Lynch doesn't come but phones in to wish
us well. It's like a cosmic pop party put on by Hollywood
outsiders. You know, the one's Hollywood loves. The
one's that make a little money with their art now and
then.
Soderbergh
pops around, in and out of the story structure, whenever
the mood seems to strike him. The plot unravels at a
rather typical pace but it's peppered with emotion and
idea and background and highlights at just the right
moments. Soderbergh doesn't tell a story on film. He
tells it in flashes. Pop. Here's the main character.
Flash. Here's what he's about. Whap. Here's why he's
here. Click. Here's who he's after. Clink. Here's how
he feels. Soderbergh's little intimate glimpses into
here and there, peeking around corners, looking at reflections
of reflection of reflection of mirrors, they're riveting.
Terrence Stamp is "The Limey." God he looks great. He
is age and regret and sorrow and retribution personified.
Soderbergh knows how to film him. Knows exactly who
he is. Soderbergh and Stamp bring forth "The Limey"
with a subtle audaciousness that is beautiful in it's
covert, slow, perfect exposition. We understand him
all too well by films end. We see him and then he finally
sees himself. And becomes whole.
Soderbergh peoples the film with familiar faces from
the Hollywood landscape who take on familiar faces in
the plot. The omnipresent Luis Guzman as the reluctant
sidekick. The aging Leslie Ann Warren as the non-love
interest. The quiet familiarity of the nonsequitur Joe
Dallesandro. The new anger of Nicky Katt. The consistent
hardness of a TV drama starring Barry Newman. Peter
Fonda and all the cinematic baggage he entails. These
characters as actors as characters make the film crackle
with interest. We don't need exposition or complexities
or moments to understand these characters. We see them
for who they are immediately. Finally, of course, there
are the new girls: One living and one dead. Oh, we see
what that is all about. That, more than anything, IS
Hollywood.
And,
finally, Soderbergh pays a weird homage to himself.
Makes his history part of this film all gooey with film
history. He has his actors sit around and watch George
Clooney, star of Soderbergh's last film, "Out of Sight,"
on TV. Not on "ER," but on some stupid Hollywood news
show. It's the snake eating it's tail. And suddenly
we realize why the snake is eating his tail. It's delicious.
Yes,
Soderbergh makes a film that encompasses all of cinematic
history from 1960 on. He amazingly inserts moments of
an old Terrence Stamp film ("Poor Cow" - 1967) that
acts as not only a flashback in the story, but a flashback
in the course of film history. It's ingenious. It's
precise in it's wild and ragged glory. It leaves us
vexed. We know it must be an old film of Stamp's, but
Soderbergh blends it into his film so seamlessly that
we accept it as flashback without question. It must
be flashback. It's in black and white. It's story fits
the story we are watching.
"The
Limey" is a great film. The perfect film to see in the
month before the last month in the year before the last
year at the end of the entire 20th century. It sums
it all up. As prophecized by the end of "2001: A Space
Odyssey," there are only two choices left open to film
now: Death or complete and total rebirth. If the whole
thing doesn't go shithouse, watch out for Soderbergh.
He's on the cusp of bringing forth the next entertainment/film/video/image/
sound-and-vision marvel. Whatever that might possibly
mean.
Note:
Script by Lem Dobbs, who also wrote "Kafka." Pop songs
by The Who, Steppenwolf, and several other 60's groups.
Stamp sings a tune by Donovan briefly in a scene from
"Poor Cow." Score by Cliff Martinez.
Scenes with Ann-Margret were deleted.
Report
Card
Script:
A-
Acting: A+
Cinematography\Lighting: A+
Special Effects\Make Up: A-
Music: A-
Final
Grade: A
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