Ocean’s Thirteen is a step up from Ocean’s Twelve and a step down from Ocean’s Eleven. It’s probably a step back in the heist genre because it’s not very interesting. In fact, it’s rather bland for the most part and contains enough uninspired performances for a lifetime of phoning it in. Ocean’s Thirteen came out in the summer of 2007, in June, and was said to be the last film in the series of films. Steven Soderbergh (Ocean’s Eleven, Ocean’s Twelve, Traffic, Erin Brockovich) is back as director, filling in the role that pretty much anybody could do and sharing coffee with the boys between takes (or so I imagine, considering how many coffee cup cameos are in the film).
With the Hollywood writers on strike, it’s nice to take solace in the fact that you don’t really need writers to make a film like Ocean’s Thirteen. It kind of plays like a reality show for celebrities, allowing them seemingly free reign to fart around a casino and work through a convoluted plot to try to pull on over on its owner. Somehow, though, it turns out that Ocean’s Thirteen did indeed have a writer or two. Brian Koppelman (Walking Tall, Runaway Jury, Rounders) and his writing partner David Levien were the writers on this project and they make it count by pouring as much unnecessary complexity into the story as humanly possible, making this one of the most crowded boring films I have seen in quite some time.
George Clooney is back as Danny Ocean, of course, and this time he’s even more smug. The film opens with Reuben Tishkoff (Elliot Gould) taking ill and the gang rushing to his bedside to see if they can console him. We learn that Tishkoff suffered a heart attack because of the shock he endured when a business deal with the shady Willy Bank (Al Pacino) went south as a result of Bank’s evil nature and self-indulgence. As a result, Ocean and the gang plan for revenge and aim to take down Bank’s brand new casino and hotel, which is called predictably “The Bank.” The gang faces a few problems, as always, the first of which is the hotel’s immense artificial intelligence security clearance. This forces Ocean to work with a guy named Roman Nagel (Eddie Izzard) to try to concoct a plan to get clearance.
The plan also includes a plot to discredit “The Bank” by ruining its reputation, which leads to an idea to prevent “The Bank” from getting its prestigious Five Diamond Award for excellence. Rusty (Brad Pitt), Saul (Carl Reiner), and Danny set a plan in motion to do this. On the way, they need to bypass Bank’s assistant (Ellen Barkin) and oust the actual Five Diamond reviewer (David Paymer) to replace him with one of their guys. Yadda yadda yadda, a plan is set in motion over here and another one is set in motion over there and all of the usual parts come together in another heist film. Ocean’s Thirteen also stars Casey Affleck, Scott Caan, Andy Garcia (yes, he’s back), Bernie Mac, Shaobo Qin, and a completely wasted and ignored Matt Damon in his usual role as Linus.
Many of the performances in this film, especially that of George Clooney, seem so uninspired that it’s hard to focus one’s attention on the screen. Clooney spends most of his time leaning against walls and not because he’s trying to act cool. While he promised this film would be better than Ocean’s Twelve – and it is – he also seems blissfully aware of the fact that these films are his phone-it-in money bag films. Pitt seems to act the same way, once again chewing the scenery and every other food item in the world along the way. Pitt’s job in Ocean’s Thirteen is relatively simple: look cool, eat, drink coffee, repeat. It’s tepid schlock and it’s unnecessary. The fun and the spunk is nonexistent, leaving instead a wake of attempted moralizing and convoluted plot details that are enough to distract any viewer with a will to pay attention.
Ocean’s Thirteen fails to tell a cohesive narrative, choosing instead to ratchet up useless techno babble and call it dialogue. The first forty or so minutes of the film are so fragmented that one begins to wonder if it’s not a few films spliced together and a set of random scenes. Ocean’s Thirteen direly needs an editor. The scenes could be rearranged just about any way, too, and the film would look relatively the same. It’s nonsensical and excessive. It’s also instantly forgettable and filled with gap-toothed smug performances from the peanut gallery. Everyone, save for Pacino, looks bored or lazy, sucking the potential for fun right out of the film and, instead, leaving tepid results in its wake. Ocean’s Thirteen is a bland bore of a film.
2/10
Trailer:
