Ocean's Thirteen

Review by Loc

In 2001, the coolest guys on the planet decided to bless the world with their version of the coolest Vegas heist film, ever. In Ocean’s Eleven, the stars aligned, pun intended, with George Clooney, Brad Pitt, and Julia Roberts headlining the star-studded cast in a thoroughly enjoyable Vegas heist romp. When you have Clooney and Pitt leading their band of merry thieves, which include Matt Damon, Bernie Mac, and Carl Reiner, with a fun, twisting story filmed by the masterful Steven Sodebergh, you get silver screen mastery. At least, that’s what you expected until Ocean’s Twelve came out. In the sequel, it seemed like the entire cast took a European vacation and fit in a movie between sunbathing and cocktails. The story was convoluted, with twists and turns that simply existed to twist and turn. And while it seemed like the cast was having a rocking good time, watching that flick was like seeing someone’s vacation videos. Yeah, not so good. So, now we’re treated to another installment that has been dubbed, “The One We Should Have Made Last Time”. Quick hit: inexplicably low key.

Ocean’s Thirteen sees the original eleven back together again. This time, the “venerable” Elliot Gould finds himself snookered and hoodwinked by the biggest shark in the Vegas game, one Mr. Al Pacino. Pacino is looking older, but manages to contain the random yelling that has been so prominent in the last decade of work. Moving on, Pacino completes a brutal backstabbing of Gould, which means the Ocean boys assemble to pull the loyalty-revenge job of a lifetime. As stated in the trailers, it’s not about them winning, it’s about Pacino losing.

So, imagine the next 90 minutes as a well-oiled con-job machine. Clooney and Pitt’s gang handle every conceivable angle to destroy Pacino’s grand opening. Rigging the casino games? Check. Upsetting the perfect balance to Pacino’s world, which includes taking advantage of the cougarish Ellen Barkin? Check. Disrupting the stay of an esteemed hotel critic? Check. For 90 minutes, an hour-and-a-half, Clooney, Pitt, Matt Damon, Bernie Mac, and the rest of the bunch hit every note they need to hit. There’s not a moment of doubt, not a twinge of “what if they can’t do it”, not a single impediment to their quest. Sure, there are obstacles that pop up, but every one is solved in around 60 seconds, leaving a rather limp story.

Couple that with the low energy of the cast, and you realize something is amiss. This is the coolest collection of movie stars in a film franchise, and yet, everything seems a bit subdued. It’s not that they’re mailing it in or short-timing it. Rather, they just exude a whole lot of energy or charisma. Much like the story, everything is rolling along so perfectly, the stars never need to raise their pulse to get things done.

Overall, things play out a bit flat. The stars are working their magic effortlessly. The cons are working perfectly. The diversions lead no where. So after two hours, you realize you just witnessed the most perfect, boring con-job ever. The action is pretty limited and the comedy is just as subdued as the cast. One random funny part: the evil French thief from Ocean’s Twelve makes a little cameo and tries to muck up things. In the end, he has to be at the top of the Pacino hotel, hidden and ready to pounce. So how does he do it? By having a jumpsuit that matches the geometric lights all around him. It’s like he has red and orange triangles all randomly arranged on his jumpsuit so he could stand against a wall for a couple hours. It’s better than Rambo covering up himself in mud so he could stand against a tree for half a day in Rambo II. Granted, I might have been the only one laughing at this visual, but I still find it extremely unintentionally funny! Out of the 5 Star Diamond Rating for hotels, Ocean’s Thirteen is a solid 3.5 sparklies. It’s fun enough, even if it seems like the entire flick is out of energy.