A wasted opportunity that should be much more fun than it is

Rating: Null/10 (3 February 2002)

Ocean's Eleven
`Ocean's Eleven' is like a party with no beer. All the elements for a great time are in place - fun folks, nice scenery, a lighthearted mood. But no one there will have the cubes to let loose and have a really good time without a little help from the friendly neighborhood liquor store. In this case, the beer is the script, and it's far less substantive than a pint of Guiness, although possibly more thick-headed. I guess the draw for all the big names above the title was the chance to work with a lot of other big names, but even toned, finely tanned celebrity bungholes can't make crap smell like potpourri. Everyone is trying way too hard to prove they can relax and have a good time. It's a shame, because there's far too much talent here for this film to be so flat and uninteresting. George Clooney is Danny Ocean, yet another thief who begins planning a job immediately after being paroled. Ripping off a few casinos seems like a good idea because A) they're owned by the greaseball who's tagging his ex-wife, and 2) he'll need a large cast of famous actors, each with a criminal forte, to help him do it. Matt Damon is the best pickpocket in the country. Don Cheadle not only knows explosives, but is also the only living Cockney who translates his rhyming slang for the tragically un-hip. Elliot Gould is the financier. And Brad Pitt is the fleshy-jowled, perfectly stubbled co-George Clooney. Now you might think, as I did, that an eleven-man crew is a pretty large assembly for a robbery. However, this particular heist seems to have room for virtually every crime there is, and therefore room for lots of stars to commit them. They're all so at ease in their specialties, in fact, that they have plenty of time for all sorts of witty quips and bawdy ripostes. The script, unfortunately, provides them with mostly pedestrian stuff. The rhythm of their banter is so predictable, their wisecracks so telegraphed, that I wondered if anyone had actually read any of it prior to signing on. Worst of all, `Ocean's Eleven' focuses entirely on its central heist. Director Steven Soderbergh here dispenses with his trademark quick, overlapping-cuts and other directorial flair, apparently under the assumption that star power is enough. Or perhaps he didn't give this film the care of his past superb work under the pretense of `just having fun.' The heist genre is by now hackneyed enough that any flick will be just that unless one brings some new perspective to it. There's none of that here, just a lot of acid-lounge funk in the background to remind us how cool everyone and everything is. Why? Because they steal things? Poor Julia Roberts, as the highbrow object of Ocean's Affection - her choices are between a millionaire sleaze or a slick ex-con? This script never considers allowing her to make the choice that screams to be recognized in the mind of anyone watching, namely a condescending rejection of both these losers. No, her thankless role requires her to remember all over again why she fell for that piercing, over-the-brow Clooney stare in the first place. Amazing how $150 million can refresh the memory. The journey from elegant casino `curator' to the world's most expensive escort is a large one to make in two hours, but `Ocean's Eleven' proves it can be done if you don't bother with pesky character development. `Ocean's Eleven' is bound to make a box office killing, despite being released between `Harry Potter' and `The Lord of the Rings.' It will also probably be praised for allowing its all-star cast to let their pompadours down for a bit and have a good time. What it really is, though, is a colossal missed opportunity that won't define the subsequent work of anyone involved, if we're lucky.