This week @ the Byrd: Ocean’s 13
photo credit:
Jake Lyell
Recently, I made some sweeping statements about the seemingly indefatigable trajectory of trilogies as of late, fueled by my bitter and almost personally offended disappointment in the final installment of Pirates of the Caribbean. One is enough! I said. Two is indulgent, and three is simply showing off effects, recycling jokes, and losing your audience in the process. Well, sue me. I forgot about the Ocean’s 11 stuff (though I’m not sure how, considering my almost scary trust in Soderbergh and Clooney), and about midway through Ocean’s 13, I realized…hey! I am NOT lost, I am NOT confused, I am NOT bored, and I am NOT ready to write a “you’ve let me down” email to a bunch of famous dudes who don’t care. I looked around at my fellow Cloonz-fans. Everyone’s eyes were alight, their heads were nodding, and they laughed with genuine glee at the appropriate times. No one, except a Frodo follower, expects the third part of a trilogy to be the big mind-blower.* And though Ocean’s 13 may be a slightly weaker version of the other two, it is still clever enough to save the films from the trilogy curse.
One of the reasons for the film’s success is that it didn’t attempt to go one step further and tackle a bigger, grander problem like, say, a casino on the moon that threatens to put Vegas out of business, so Danny Ocean and his right-hand man Rusty gather up a crew to blast off into space and set the evil alien owner straight by stealing all his spacebucks. Nope, it’s just another jerk (this time it’s Al Pacino) who think he’s really awesome and who is basically acting for his hubris to have its ears boxed. He’s also made the mistake of screwing over one of the 11 personally, which, luckily for us, seems to enrage the dashing thieves into incorporating more fake mustaches than usual. Ellen Barkin, David Paymer, and Eddie Izzard make for some excellent fresh characters, and Pacino, of course, plays an obnoxious, self-obsessed, greedy snake to a tee.
Clooney and Pitt, as one might expect, provide most of the really great lines and cap off the movie’s humor quota in one brilliantly random scene that slows down the film’s trademark quick and snappy directing for just enough time to turn the joke from funny to hilarious while also allowing us some space to collect our wits while the complicated world of casino heists whirls around us. Matt Damon tends to consistently steal the Ocean’s show, so that’s no surprise, while Casey Affleck got more than his usual share of laughs. Both Eddie Izzard and Bernie Mac (no, seriously!) were substantially underused, but it doesn’t really matter. There’s enough stuff going on so that you’re sufficiently entertained, down to Rusty’s ridiculous ringtone and Andy Garcia’s cravat. Leave it to Clooney to step up to the plate when Depp lets us down. Oh my gosh! Perfect Ocean’s 14 idea!! I’m going to write that email after all.
*Although, for all we know, this isn’t a trilogy, it’s an ongoing series that will continue until Brad Pitt suffers heart failure on the set of Ocean’s 63.
