What About it?
(for a full summary of the film, scroll down to "What Happens?")
The Limey is a fascinating piece of work, as much for how it's told as the story it tells. Soderbergh, using scenes from different times in unconventional sequences, he gives a depth to the character's relationships in a very short time, that I can't imagine being possible otherwise. We realize at the end of the movie that Wilson has been on the plane ride home since the beginning, so for him what happens next is the past, although we're still seeing it as it unfolds. This allows it to be a much deeper story than a simple revenge thriller, and allows Wilson a depth of his own that wouldn't have been believable in any other way. The sequence where Wilson meets his daughter's friend Elaine shows the potential brilliantly. We get to see Wilson and Elaine at their first awkward meeting, while at the same time seeing thing sitting down at a table, and going for a casual stroll. The earlier parts inform the later parts while we watch them both, while the conversation runs at it's own pace filling in gaps, not always logically but emotionally matching the scenes we dwell on. This technique also allows us to see Wilson periodically as a young man, reminding us how far he's travelled to become the stoic and weathered warrior who refuses to be stopped. We can actually see the difference in the lines on his face, which also show us how removed he is from the world, as memories of his daughter are all from a very long time ago, as are the happy memories of himself. We witness the young adventurous criminal become the hardened ex prisoner.
This is a film that works so smoothly it's easy to forget how meticulously it was assembled. Soderbergh has complete control of the film and doesn't mind departing from "the way things are done." He uses every tool available; the obvious seperation of dialogue and scene, well placed music, aggressive or background, depending on what's needed, and of course, truly inpired casting choices. He even draws on our knowledge of the actors themselves. The directing is so obvious yet effective, and fluid in this film that it's safe to say that regardless of what you hear about it, it has to be seen to be experienced. It's wonderful to see a director not afraid to blatantly show his hand, and yet making sure his appearance is essential to our connection to the story.
Casting Peter Fonda as a corrupt music producer who continues to profit from the 60's has an interesting affect, using the actor's iconic status during the 60's, particularly from Easy Rider, to highlight how morally bankrupt he is. Fonda's Terry Valentine is despicable but not in an actively malicious way. He seems unable to deal with any sort of crisis, and relies on his money to extricate himself from any mess he's in. Yet, despite his lack of nerve, he's a character that feels entitled to anything he wants. His first scene with young Adhara is a creepy reminder of this. It takes a certain kind of sleaziness to talk with the young woman you're slepping with about having a conversation with her parents about naming her. Valentine is able to get away with his behavior because he can afford it, relying on his security consultant Jim Avery (Barry Newman) to tie up messy details.
Avery seems like more than an employee though, not afraid to speak frankly to Valentine, and not compelled to hide his resentment for the messes he feels shouldn't have been made to begin with. Newman's character is also complex, while he tries to project an air of being able to control everything, it's clear that there are many things he's learning as he goes. His best choice for a hitman alone should make us question how effective he really is. He tells Valentine, "I have other resources" which doesn't quite paint a picture of a local thug who'll kill someone for $5000.00. His hitman is anything but professional and discreet. Avery, however, is not completely incompetent and perfectly willing to chase after Wilson himself, but competent or not, he overestimates his own efficiency, and two mistakes, his poor choice of a hitman(plus lack of secrecy from his own employees) and underestimating Wilson, come back to bite him. Barry Newman's fim history also adds to his character, particularly adding tension to the car chase scene, as Newman is very well known for starring in the classic film, Vanishing Point
Lesley Ann Warren is wonderful as Elaine and watching her relationship with Wilson is another example of the film's willingness to not rely on convention. She becomes very close to Wilson, but never as a romantic interest. She's simply someone who cared about his daughter, and because of that relationship, the only one who knows Wilson at all. Perhaps because of that knowledge, she is never afraid of Wilson, although he looks menacing speaking to her through a gate outside her house. When Wilson muses that Jenny was embarassed about him, and she corrects him, stating that Jenny was not embarrased but disappointed, we can feel that she has some hope for Wilson, even if it's only because she really wants the sad story to improve. She holds her own, without being sexual, just through her emotional investment and knowledge.
Luis Guzman's Ed also adds a needed touch, his soft spoken support and assistance and immediate trust of Wilson tell us eve more about Wilson's character. Ed is not in the least naive, he simply sees Wilson as a guy who needs help getting justice for his daughter, who was also Ed's friend. The fact that Ed is not well off, particularly compared to Valentine adds another contrast. Ed remarks that he's "invisible" to Valentine, which makes it fitting that it's Ed who brings about Valentine answering for what he's done. He is also Wilson's natural connection to this foreign country, having also spent some time in prison, the two have shared an experience that most people have not, and was likely similar, despite being from different countries. As is true with Elaine, Soderbergh's, out of order sequencing gives Ed and Wilson an amazingly full relationship for the time actually spent on screen.
Even with such an astounding cast, the movie belongs to Terence Stamp. He makes Wilson a unique character dressed up as a character we've seen a thousand times. Stamp tells stories here with just a change of expression. Like your conventional "just got out of prison, seeking revenge." stock character, he starts out single minded, but with his own ideas about how to achieve his goal. He approaches the matter sensibly, reasoning before he acts. We see that when he investigates the shady warehouse where Ed tells him Jenny went, he's willing to try and talk first and even take a beating in order to give himself the advantage, when the thugs, content that they've established superiority, don't suspect that he'll pick himself right up off the pavement and kill them all. When Wilson first approaches Valentine, he imagines shooting the man from different distances, but not happy with the result chooses instead to make a point by tossing a bodyguard to his death. He is full of idiosyncracies and it seems he enjoys the effect of his British slang which no one understands. He's completely an outsider, and doesn't really need to be understood completely, as long as like Elaine says, we "know what he means." It's his own understanding that's important. He needs to make sense of his daughter's death and perhaps of his own life. The memories of himself as a young man, make who he and where he is now a great tragedy.
What Wilson needs to learn is something he already knows, as he tells the DEA agent, "I could have got up behind him and snapped his fucking neck, but I left it, I could've nobbled him, but I didn't, cause what I thought I wanted wasn't what I wanted. What I was thinking about was something else. I didn't give a toss. It didn't matter, see? This berk on the bench wasn't worth my time. It meant sod-all in the end, 'cause you gotta make a choice: when to do something, and when to let it go. When it matters, and when it don't. Bide your time. That's what prison teaches you, if nothing else. Bide your time, and everything becomes clear, and you can act accordingly." While Wilson is a man intimidating enough to scare people off with a look, he's also a very thoughtful person.
The final confrontation is essentially a repeat of this lesson. Finally having Valentine at his mercy, he discovers that"what he wanted isn't what he thought he wanted." When he realizes that Jenny's fatal error was a result of behavior she'd learned from dealing with him, he also realizes that her death was his fault as much as Terry Valentine's. Terry's biggest mistake was that he panicked, fearing he was about to lose everything. While Wilson was not at all afraid of facing prison or anything else as far as we know, Terry Valentine was not in the habit of facing anything himself, other than getting what he wanted. And so, faced with the truth, Wilson does something unconventional and realizes "when to let it go," as he can't entirely blame Terry. To hear him telling his story on the plane at the end, it's possible to hope that he's learned something important, and perhaps he can finally stop repeating the same mistakes. The Limey starts out as a simple revenge film, but ultimately becomes so much more, a story about making a choice, "When it matters and when it don't."
What Happens?
Wilson (Terence Stamp) snarls to a black screen "Tell me. Tell me. Tell me about Jenny." cuing the Who's song "The Seeker to play as we get our first look at Wilson, an aged but determined looking man, dressed entirely in black, who makes his way from the airport to a hotel room. He looks at a newspaper clipping about a woman's death and at a California address for an "Ed Roel" written on an envelope. He quickly finds Ed Roel (Luis Guzman)
