About the worst thing I've ever found myself saying about John Sayles, the king of independent filmmaking, is that his technique in Limbo is painfully transparent. The strokes he uses to sketch his characters in the opening scenes, though pleasantly chaotic, are entirely familiar. Once again, the protagonist, Joe, is a stoic, principled character whose life centers on finding redemption for some profoundly tragic event in the past. The setting, coastal Alaska, provides Sayles with adequate fodder for his favorite political issues, foremost among them the struggle for economic equality in a free market society.
In fact, the plot twist on which the film's conclusion turns - whether a scornful pilot will save the protagonists or reveal their location to the drug dealers trying to kill them - can be seen as a metaphor for Sayles' capitalist dilemma: stick together with the other laborers or work against them to make a living wage. We're encouraged to mull over the same issue when the fish-cleaning plant closes, or when Joe is ordered by his bosses to take an old comrade's repossessed boat out to fish. And, on this count at least, he works with as much subtlety as he does in the best of his films.
In fact, the plot twist on which the film's conclusion turns - whether a scornful pilot will save the protagonists or reveal their location to the drug dealers trying to kill them - can be seen as a metaphor for Sayles' capitalist dilemma: stick together with the other laborers or work against them to make a living wage. We're encouraged to mull over the same issue when the fish-cleaning plant closes, or when Joe is ordered by his bosses to take an old comrade's repossessed boat out to fish. And, on this count at least, he works with as much subtlety as he does in the best of his films.