At first glance, “Ocean’s Eleven” looks like the kind of movie E! Entertainment Television would make if it were a lavish production company and not a lecherous cable network. Not only does the film feature what are arguably the top four under-40 actors working today (George Clooney, Brad Pitt, Julia Roberts and Matt Damon), but it’s also directed by Hollywood’s latest auteur-turned-showman, Steven Soderbergh.
With so many egos to keep in check, it’s a huge credit to Soderbergh that the film never comes off as a wanton flaunting of star power or even a mindless popcorn flick. Rather, “Eleven” marks the apex of Steven Soderbergh’s gift to appease film school sophistos while making thoroughly entertaining Hollywood fare.
Pundits speculated that he wouldn’t to stay true to the spirit of the middling Rat Pack vehicle upon which his “Eleven” is based, but nothing could be further from the truth. With “Out of Sight,” “The Limey” and now “Eleven,” Soderbergh has created a reworking of the Rat Pack’s version of cool; a neo-chic personified by thirtysomething hipster criminals too chivalric to be in a Tarantino film, yet canny enough to make an elaborate casino heist look as fun as a jaunt down the Las Vegas strip.
Clooney (“Out of Sight”) stars as Danny Ocean, a glib con-man fresh out of prison and looking to get back to work. He calls on right hand man Dusty (Pitt, “Spy Game”) to assemble a crack team of crooks in order to knock off an impenetrable underground vault that houses the bankroll for three Las Vegas casinos.
Ocean has ulterior motives for the job, however, as the three targeted casinos are run by Harry Benedict (a terrific Andy Garcia, “When a Man Loves a Woman”), the man currently sleeping with Ocean’s ex-wife Tess (Roberts, “The Mexican”).
This is not a heist of Mametian proportions, but a laissez-faire excursion with room for colorful supporting characters and stinging one-liners. Ocean’s motley crew has a sort of care-free approach to its professionalism — from Don Cheadle’s (“Traffic”) cockney quips to Bernie Mac’s (“Friday”) eye-bugging antics, they seem to be having as much fun with the caper as the audience is watching them.
For Clooney and Pitt, this is the first time their overlooked comedic talents have been put to any effective use. Their deadpan exchanges and affable demeanors set a tone for the film that’s impossible not to enjoy.
Soderbergh directs with a calculated coolness, a characteristic not usually used to describe a man whose films are frequently (and unjustly) accused of being “style over substance.” Similar to what director Frank Oz did in this summer’s “The Score,” he keeps his notoriously overt style tucked away and allows the top-notch cast to take control.
After his films garnered countless Oscar nominations last year, Soderbergh was adamant about the fact that his next project would be a strictly fun film with no social agenda. “Ocean’s Eleven” succeeds on that level and will likely catapult its director and cast into an entirely new stratum on the Hollywood hierarchy of respect, something that nobody sought but is nonetheless richly deserved.
Grade: A
