Sunday, June 10, 2007


Of the many summer three-quels, Ocean's Thirteen is the best. Unlike Pirates and Spiderman, Ocean's Thirteen doesn't feel an hour too long or painfully self-indulgent or completely nonsensical. While the plot may not be much clearer than the air on a hot LA day, it makes enough sense to keep the audience engaged. Money needs to change hands (out of Wally Bank's and into Danny Ocean's) and casino games shall be rigged - the details don't matter. Especially not when Soderbergh (director and DP) photographs Vegas so wonderfully that you can't help but start planning a trip there as you watch Brad and George stroll along the Strip.

Al Pacino does some quality scenery chewing as this installment's villain, and Eddie Izzard gets more screen time (although not as much as he should) then in 12. All that being said:

Dear Steven, George, Brad, et. al.,

Thank you for making Ocean's Thirteen not suck. Granted, you didn't have to do much better to beat the lame excuse for a movie that was Party at George's Italian Villa Ocean's Twelve, but you realized that you fucked up and got back on your game. Kudos.


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