Dir. Steven Soderbergh, US, 2007, 122 mins
Cast:
George Clooney, Brad Pitt, Matt Damon, Al Pacino, Andy Garcia, Elliott Gould, Don Cheadle, Bernie Mac, Ellen Barkin, Vincent Cassel
Review by Matthew Rodgers
It’s hardly a financial gamble to make a three-quel to an underwhelming second instalment when the players holding the cards are Clooney, Pitt, Damon and new addition “woo hah” himself Al Pacino. Whether audiences are willing to buy into the game despite the overtly smug nature of Ocean’s Twelve is on the spin of a wheel because 13 lacks the spark of 11 and falls somewhere between the black and the red of the franchise’s polemic critical success.
Returning to the scene of the crime instead of coherence challenging globe hopping, Danny and the gang are forced to get personal when their anything but sage-like mentor Reuben (Gould) is double crossed by “evil” and alarmingly orange casino owner Willie Bank (Big Al).
What unfolds is a superbly technical display of style over substance with a smattering of smirk inducing humour. Soderbergh knows how to make a film look good, even his recent misfires such as The Good German have maintained an aura of credibility for their unique aesthetics, and Ocean's Thirteen is no different. The opening single-take tracking shot following Rusty (Pitt) through a claustrophobic tunnel sets the standard and is matched along the way by various outlandish edits, Technicolor visuals, and in the film's over the top finale, a brilliant SIMS style cash counter, ringing above each gambler’s head, and all of this is accompanied by David Holmes brilliant knee tapping musical score.
Where the film suffers its biggest loss is in the plot department. Always a vacuous franchise the first film was sprightly, extremely funny and had numerous twists, the second was bogged down by the multiple plot threads, unclear McGuffin, and the awful in-jokery of the third act. Thirteen just doesn’t know where its chips lie; it’s not nearly funny enough, with the only laugh out loud moments coming from the increasingly talented Casey Affleck and the obvious offscreen chemistry shared by the cast translating to screen. Pitt and Clooney in particular display this best with a low key nuanced double act that never feels forced.
It takes way too long to get going with tolerance testing exposition spouted by the lightweight Eddie Izzard for what seems the first hour, followed by the heist which is remarkably peril free. There are no moments to rival the somersault in the vault from Eleven or even the laser dodging ballet of Twelve so it’s relatively tension/excitement free. It’s the familiarity that keeps the interest levels high, like meeting up with old friends that let you down last time you saw them but are trying their best to make up for it!
Ocean's Thirteen does suffer from the law of diminishing returns and it is definitely time for this crew to walk away with their winnings, but they can do it heads held slightly higher than expected.
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