Like the great film, it's made with a great deal of visible affection both in front of and behind the camera.

There are moments in this movie where the great movie it could've been peek out... They're fleeting, here, but they're worth savoring, and they happen often enough to make it worth your while.

All of these films share one commonality, that being a kind of emotional center that humanizes a cast of monsters.

There are moments that feel comical, some horrific, and some downright inspiring but the tonal shifts hardly matter as the end results come to a film that's perfect for this time.

The Limey sees a familiar tale told in an unfamiliar way. The basic plot concerns a hardened, grizzly Englishman named Wilson who has just been release from prison and is seeking vengeance for his daughter's apparent murder. A career criminal, Wilson hasn't exactly been keeping in touch, and as the story unfurls we gradually discover the darker dealings of Jenny's life alongside him. In simple terms, the film is about a father's search for answers and the truth, but much of that search isn't a physical one, but a dive back into forgotten memories and pasts, circling back onto itself. Soderbergh's direction elevates this process into one tinged with bitterness and regret. You can spot this almost immediately with Wilson's first interrogee, Jenny's friend Eduardo. Shot simply this might just be exposition, but Soderbergh and editor Sarah Flack cut up their conversation over three different locations, with the sounds of their voices bridging over the scenes. An encounter with another old friend, Elaine, is similarly fractured, their voices flung over physical locations with seamless transitions. Wilson is dealing with a flurry of new and often contradictory information about the events that lead to his daughter's death, absorbed over many conversations. Fragments of the truth are all that he receives; why should it be relayed in a straightforward way? Nearing the true cause of his mission, Wilson's imagination goes into overdrive, and with it the audience's objective perspective. The camera assumes an omniscient view from which we see all possibilities, overlapping different outcomes. When Wilson sees his target at a party, Soderbergh minimises all background noise into a distant buzz, and slows down the focus on his unfurling pistol. The shot, and subsequent spray of blood, is stylised violence, something out of a music video, and the immediate cut draws us back into reality. Yet Soderbergh gradually strips back the artifice until finally we are convinced that Wilson has really decided to avenge Jenny in the thick of the party, and fools us for a third time by cutting back to Eduardo pulling him away. We can feel his emotions caving in and compressing onto the scene, his desire for revenge filtered through the camera's eye, becoming less fantastical by the second. Terrence Stamp's Wilson is a lean, world-wearied brand of fury, a mind focused solely on one thing. He brushes off glancing blows with the same stony face and piercing blue eyes throughout, as if everything was just a matter of time. And it is. Bundled out of the drug dealer's garage, the camera holds the wide shot, knowing what is to come, and observes Wilson drawing a pistol, and storming back into the room. Bang, and then five or six more. The sequence has the same startling immediacy of an early Scorsese or Tarantino, and none of the later juvenility from the latter. See too how the camera almost selectively ignores later acts of violence in a matter-of-fact way, remaining in shallow focus while Wilson upends a security guard over the railing of Terry Valentine's hilltop manor. Intercut with those harsh blows of gritty violence are flashes of a younger Wilson taken from Ken Loach's directorial debut Poor Cow, a fresher-faced Stamp and a mere petty thief. The entire film drips with 90s malaise, complete with tinkling score and a washed up 60s icon in Peter Fonda, who has 'upgraded' into the higher life but spends much of his time lamenting the loss of his glory days and traversing the endless American roads on a shiny chrome motorcycle. The past worms and burrows itself into Wilson's mind, a never-ending reminder of the life he chose and the impact on those around him. It begins to invade the film form itself; an eye-line match sees Wilson look up at a younger Jenny, footage spliced to mimic the two meeting each other's gaze. These 'flashbacks' seem to resemble generic recollections, faded and grainy, but Wilson is more than just reminiscing. He's investigating the origins of these sins, pondering his own conscience. The bright spotlight fixates on his daughter's face, symbolic of his own search for truth and ultimately forgiveness. Did he find it on that beach? We can only hope so.

This thriller might seem like some to be a simple remake of GET CARTER - but it's a lot more than that. Director Steven Soderbergh shoots his film in an unusual, unique way. Whereas most films follow a simple, chronologically-bound linear narrative (i.e. events happen after each other as time progresses), this film has scenes following a vaguely "diagonal" pattern - what I'm trying to say is that one scene plays out, then we have flashbacks and flash-forwards into the past and future, always going back to the same scene again. While this might sound confusing to watch, you get used to it quickly and realise how brilliant and disconcerting it is. Soderbergh also overlaps his dialogue from scene to scene which make the film even more interesting to watch.While the plot is nothing new, the actors invest it with a real dynamite chemistry, a film to watch spellbound from start to finish. Terence Stamp is absolutely superb as the Cockney gangster, muttering rhyming slang and uttering such class lines as "Tell them I'm coming!", and gives a moving portrayal of a past-it hard man coming to terms with the cruel, modern world. We really get inside this guy's head. On the other hand, Peter Fonda is also good as Stamp's nemesis, a weak music producer hiding behind bodyguards and agents to protect himself. Barry Newman also pops up as Fonda's right-hand man to deliver a tough performance.One classy scene has Stamp beaten to a pulp by thugs - only to return moments later to butcher them all in a bloody shootout. This is shot atypically from what you might expect by reading that description, as to add more impact the camera stays OUTSIDE the building while this happens! Other twists include a bodyguard being thrown over some railings in the background, whereas most flicks would shoot this in close-up. It's touches like these which help breathe new life into the stale thriller and make this instead an intelligent, thought-provoking drama. The only complaint I would have with this film is that it feels a little too short. Watch it and enjoy!

I wasn't too sure about the way this one was cut together at first but the style soon began to settle down. It was almost like a scene was made up of several takes, all filmed on one camera and put together with nothing to break them up. In the end I came to quite like it; something different to the normal fayre. The performances were all excellent, particularly Terence Stamp; again a performance that grew on me. I also very much liked the performance of Luis Guzmán, I always feel I'm in safe hands when I see him in the cast. I guess this is one of those that grows on you the longer you watch; a revenge thriller with a bit of a difference, well worth a look.SteelMonster's verdict: RECOMMENDEDMy score: 7.5/10You can find an expanded version of this review on my blog: Thoughts of a SteelMonster.

When I sat to enjoy The Limey I was anticipating Terence Stamp's steel-cold stare and Cliff Martinez's score. I was not disappointed, both bring class to this low profile formulaic story of a little mad father out to get the big bad man responsible for the death of his loved one(s).Now I was not the least impressed by Soderbergh's experimental storytelling. Editing is surely creative here. I understand that scrapping a whole backstory about hit men may well have forced it. But I do feel the visual rhythm runs against the whole noir atmosphere. Basically emotion rises from within a shot, action from editing, hence too much editing here prevents emotion (and tension) to settle.In the end you feel Terence Stamp was wasted in an average story where an artsy director favoured style over substance. Soderbergh's approach is actually interesting, only it turns out counter-productive.