No meat with the potatoes

Rating: 4/10 (12 December 2004)

I could just see the studio execs sitting around their cozy meeting room, drinking their triple mocha cappuccino's and reacting to the producers' pitch.
I imagine the producer saying, 'I have an idea for a movie that will have George Clooney, Brad Pitt, Matt Damon, Julia Roberts, Carl Reiner, Bernie Mac, Don Chedale, Andy Garcia and Elliot Gould together again. And this time I even got Catherine Zeta-Jones to join the cast. Oh yeah, Steven Sodebergh will direct and I have even convinced Bruce Willis and Topher Grace to do cameos..And did I mention that this is a sequel to the $450 million worldwide grossing Ocean's 11 and that the stars are willing to negotiate back end deals in order to keep the budget the same as the first film?'
I imagine there would be a pause. Not a pause to consider whether or not to greenlight the project, but a pause so that they could picture themselves naked in a mountain of money or maybe a pause just long enough to let the adrenaline run through their bodies and the goosebumps and hairs on the back of their necks a chance to return to their normal state.
Well, whatever the conversation, the boys are back (sorry Julia and Catherine) again in Ocean's Twelve which is also a follow-up to the remake of the 1960 movie staring Rat Packers Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and Sammy Davis Jr.
Ocean's Twelve picks up a few years after the original ended. If you recall, in their first crack at collective crime, the group elaborately emptied the Bellagio, The Mirage and the MGM Grand casinos' vault in Las Vegas of about $150 million. Well, for some reason, that just didn't sit well with Terry Benedict (Andy Garcia) who not only lost the casino's money a job for which he was responsible - but also his girlfriend Tess (Julia Roberts) to the mastermind behind the group, Danny Ocean (George Clooney). Thanks to an anonymous tip (that really makes no sense when revealed) , Benedict has been given the location of all eleven thieves responsible for the original heist. Benedict seems to be holding a vindictive grudge that is rather hard to understand, really. The insurance covered the losses, and Benedict never even lost his job as a result of the debacle. But for some reason, he is willing to put his life on hold until a personal vendetta is resolved.
After tracking down each character individually (and did we really need to see the bit characters being visited one by one by Benedict and his entourage of men without necks?) Benedict reveals that they have two weeks to return to him the money they stole plus interest. Just one problem. It has been a few years since the heist and everyone has bit into their nest egg leaving them over $90 million short. So, they put their collective minds together and decide to do what they do best, steal.
This is where the movie should have gone into overdrive, but instead it gets muttered in its own stylish format. They first decide to steal a trade ticket worth about $2.5 million (which would only leave them with 99% of the total still to be recovered). Of course, it's again an elaborate plan consisting of an idea that is so ridiculously improbable that if not for the confusion I felt trying to understand the hows and whys of the plan, I undoubtedly would have chuckled out loud in my theatre seat.
But this was only an audience diversion to introduce us to The Night Fox who is a competing thief looking to wear the heavyweight belt as undisputed crook of the millennium. The Night Fox is able to get a message to Danny Ocean and after a brief meeting, agrees to pay the marker owed to Benedict if Ocean and his puppy dog posse can steal a jewel studded egg before him. Ahhh, is there no honor amongst thieves?
So with the plot now spelled out like a spoonful of Alpha-Bits, all that is left is the star power banter, a twist or two to keep us interested and enough screen time for each cast member to keep us at arms length from any kind of character development whatsoever. In fact, never have so many A-list stars wasted so much opportunity by trying to be cool or volleying the ball to the next A-list star, none of which seem capable of spiking.
Not all was a bust mind you. Catherine Zeta-Jones was an interesting character although very underdeveloped and lacking any clear motivation for her actions. And Julia Roberts has the only memorable scene in the film when she pretends to be a particular diva in a hotel that is so tongue-in-cheek I felt like I was coming down with the measles.
Director Steven Soderbergh is a good director, but I can't help think that he is overrated and it is his relationships with the stars that has kept him on the hot list rather than his filmography. Since Erin Brokovich in 2000, he has had under performer after under performer including Solaris and Full Frontal. But still, Julia Roberts and George Clooney seem to praise him on every talk show or awards dinner spewed out of Hollywood, California. In hindsight, I can see why actors must like him so much and that is because he doesn't seem to be that demanding or envelope pushing. Ocean's Twelve is the perfect example of keeping a bunch of stars happy and somewhat occupied without putting any meat beside my potatoes. Instead of trying to dwell on one or two characters and develop a sub-plot or storyline of any interest, he decides instead to allow each of the actors to leave their back room poker games to eat up screen time that is shot with an independent sense, even if no common sense follows.
Anyone who watches television will see anyone of the stars either separately talking to someone behind a desk or collectively as a promotional vehicle for the film, talk about how much fun they all had together during the shoot. The practical jokes, the European experience and even staying at George Clooney's villa where poker games were a daily ritual. It's just too bad that none of this same fun could have been transformed on screen for the benefit of the audience that, in my screening, seemed bored to a point where illuminated watch faces glowed like firefly's as uninterested patrons were collectively counting down the films running time.
With all the star power and the international appeal, Ocean's Twelve will no doubt make poop-loads of money and it won't be long before Ocean's Fourteen (Thirteen is bad luck) will be drafted and in front of the ensemble for review and schedule juggling. I just hope next time, Soderbergh decides to sit that one out and only produce while a script provides us with more than cute dimples and starring glances for two hours.
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