LIME AND PUNISHMENT

            I love Steven Soderbergh’s The Limey (1999)!  Everything about it works; for me it’s the best line on his resumé, and that’s no small compliment.  He’s the most adventurous director of the past thirty years and I’ve greatly admired everything he’s done – the hits and the misses.

            His cinematographer on this one, Ed Lachman, ASC, falls under the same heading.  No matter the demand, his work is tasteful and doesn’t call attention to itself.  Despite some ASC wins and Oscar nominations, he’s a criminally underrecognized genius – a true artist – whose development I’ve been privileged to watch from not-too-far-away since my first days as an assistant cameraman in New York.

            Their joint effort on The Limey is one for the ages.  Rather than deconstructing its overall genius, I’ll point out a small moment that spiked my attention on last viewing.  It’s almost so trivial as to not warrant mention, but its subtlety is representative of the whole.  Watch the clip:

            Note the tiny nuance during the final angle toward Luis Guzmán in the doorway; the camera is set back just far enough to allow Terence Stamp to cross through the shot as he exits left.  Admittedly, it’s a seemingly meaningless moment that has flown past virtually everyone who’s ever watched it, but it’s also an exclamation point, a finishing button to the scene that gives more power to Stamp’s character than a clean, off-camera exit ever could have.  It’s a slick choice by Soderbergh that turns a potential nothing into a definite something in a way you almost never see in other movies.  It’s the sort of thing that makes masterful filmmaking so exciting.  Keep piling on that sort of artistic intention and pretty soon you’ll have something that sings on your hands, which is precisely what Soderbergh had in this instance.

            And how about The Limey clocking in at a spare eighty-nine-minutes?  When else have you seen such a good movie in such a tight package?  Similar to another great crime story – The Friends of Eddie Coyle (1973; Peter Hyams\Victor Kemper, ASC) – there’s no fat on it.  Every shot is there for a reason and relays nothing but essential information to the viewer.  In this era of unjustifiably long running times, what a refreshing thing it would be if that trend began to catch on again!

11.14.2025

5 thoughts on “LIME AND PUNISHMENT”

  1. A wonderful article Richard – spot on – and I couldn’t agree any further with all that you have written… For those that haven’t had the pleasure to view The Limey, well, what are you waiting for, do your homework… ♥️

  2. Soderberg started the push to eliminate Camera Operators mandatory staffing in the ICG/AMPTP contract negotiations .This came to pass, sadly, in 2007. When I spoke with him years ago after a Seattle area screening of his early film, King of the Hill, he informed me that he is anti union in filmmaking. So, I’m not a fan of his, or his auture selfishly made films.

  3. David – I wasn’t aware of Soderberg’s anti-union stance but have encountered the same sentiment while working with other “maverick” independent directors. Though I don’t agree with it, I still respect his story-telling talents. Another case, I guess, of separating the art from the artist. And for the record, whatever I’m shooting – I ALWAYS have a camera operator!

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