Steven Soderbergh is an unusual choice to direct a big-budget action movie. From his acclaimed independent feature Sex, Lies and Videotape to his highly experimental work Schizopolis Soderbergh's directorial style has been decidedly unconventional. Even his 1995 feature The Underneath, with a plot lifted from the classic Hollywood film Criss Cross, used an intricate flashback structure along with formal elements such as colored filters and beautiful Scope framing. So it was with great surprise that last year's Out of Sight (with George Clooney and Jennifer Lopez) became such a popular as well as critical hit. Soderbergh has followed that success with The Limey, which opened in the U.S. this month. While neither as enjoyable nor artistic as last year's hit, The Limey offers a interesting story and solid performances.

The movie starts with a voice whispering menacingly, "Tell me, tell me, tell me about Jenny." It turns out that Jenny is a young woman who's died in a suspicious car accident, and the voice is her father Wilson (played by Terence Stamp, Phantom Menace), an Englishman who's come to Los Angeles to exact justice on whomever's responsible. The first 20-25 minutes of the film are a series of encounters that Wilson has with people who may or may not be involved. Soon, however, his detective work (or bullying tactics, depending on how you look at it) leads him to Valentine (Peter Fonda, Ulee's Gold and Easy Rider), a shady, rich music executive who was Jenny's boyfriend. The rest of the film details Wilson's attempts to confront Valentine and Valentine's efforts to evade the inevitable. The Limey isn't exactly your typical revenge movie. Though Soderbergh doesn't employ as many colored filters or camera tricks as he has in other films, The Limey is certainly a stylish (and stylized) work. The synthetic music that underscores the film is unusual but perfect for its L.A. setting. The relative lack of star power or romantic interest focuses all of the attention on the action. And the quick editing moves the story along at a rapid rate.

In fact, the editing is the most distinctive aspect of the film. Especially in the first 25 minutes, Soderbergh often pairs dialogue and visual scenes that are desynchronized. In other words, the dialogue gives the audience one piece of knowledge while the visuals give us another. This, combined with extraordinarily quick cuts (many shots last barely a second or two), means that an enormous amount of information is thrown at the audience. Though it took me a few minutes to adjust, the movie sprints along, creating an exciting, even thrilling, mood.

Unfortunately, The Limey's greatest strength turns out to be the source of its biggest weakness. Because the story has such a torrid pace, the movie doesn't slow down enough to flesh out its minor characters. In particular, and I hate sounding like a Hollywood executive, the motivations of certain people are never properly explained. For example, two of Jenny's friends go to great lengths to help her father track down her killer, despite the stories she told them about his past and, more importantly, despite the crimes they are forced to commit. I kept asking myself what they were thinking, but the movie never helps the audience answer that question. Furthermore, Peter Fonda's character, despite being a wealthy man who's frightened of the situation he finds himself in, routinely puts himself at risk--first by throwing a huge party and then heading off to a secluded retreat, even though he knows Wilson is trailing him. As the movie winds towards its predictable confrontation, my ability to suspend disbelief was sorely tested.

Even accounting for all that, The Limey is genuinely entertaining. Terence Stamp gives a sharp, piercing performance as a man who will stop at nothing to solve his daughter's murder, Peter Fonda finds the perfect balance of villain and victim, and the supporting cast is solid. Furthermore, the plot moves quickly enough that you might not notice the holes it's dug for itself. And for film buffs, Soderbergh uses Stamp's performance in Ken Loach's Poor Cow (shot over 30 years ago) in a series of flashback sequences. Comparing the two movies would make for an interesting exercise in the ever shifting (but not always changing) approach to portraying likable criminals.

J. Robert Parks  10/19/99