Ocean's Eleven

A slick yet stupendously silly popcorn caper from Steven Soderbergh, Ocean’s Eleven is a film every bit as disposable as a Kylie CD or a used Kleenex.

A remake of the flimsy 1960 Rat Pack vehicle, this film has George Clooney as Danny Ocean, a big time thief who’s proving to be a slippery customer where the cops are concerned. Having done time for only one of the twelve major robberies that he’s been charged for, Danny decides the odds are stacked in his favour and upon his release from prison he dreams up an elaborate heist. His aim is to hit three of Las Vegas’ big casinos on the night of the World Title Fight (cue Lennox Lewis cameo) to the tune of $160 million, so to pull this off, Danny and his partner Rusty (Pitt) put together a crew as befits a crazy caper.

To say that this movie is an exercise in frivolity is an understatement. Much like its Las Vegas backdrop, Ocean’s Eleven is merely eye-candy, yet it’s also a slick package replete with a cooler-than-thou soundtrack from David Holmes and glittering star-studded cast. Beneath the veneer however, there’s very little going on. The second act consists of meticulous planning for the heist, while the third act sees the realisation of said plans, and that’s about it.

Soderbergh also borrows heavily from his similarly themed Out of Sight. Danny Ocean is a carbon copy of Clooney’s loveable rogue Jack Foley from the earlier film, and Out Of Sight’s much praised restaurant scene is reprised almost shot-for-shot but to much lesser effect – Clooney and Roberts (as Ocean’s ex-wife Tess) don’t come even close to recreating the smouldering sexual tensions of Clooney and Lopez.

Though clearly this is technically a much more accomplished feature than the Sinatra original, with wittier dialogue, better performances and less dance routines, Soderbergh’s film lacks charm. While the Rat Pack may be relics from an age of cocktails and wolf-whistles, they were still more fun than their 2002 equivalents, with only Clooney and Andy Garcia (as casino owner Tony Benedict) really seeming cool enough for the task at hand.

Still, this may be a vacuous venture but it’s often fun. Besides, if genre flicks keep Soderbergh from making pretensious muck like Schizopolis then we should all be grateful.