Ocean’s 8 (Eight) (2018)
D: Gary Ross
Ocean’s 8 (Eight in some of the advertising) is a feminine twist on the Ocean‘s series Steven Soderberg put out a decade or so back, which itself was an updating of a Rat Pack movie from the early sixties. I’ve enjoyed each entry in the series–and felt no compulsion to revisit any of them (though I could see myself watching Sinatra and company again).
This one is just out of the multiplex, but I caught it second run at the college and it fit in with what I remember about the rest. The plot is improbable, the characterizations shallow, the mood fast and light, the execution not everything it could be, but good enough to get by if you aren’t hung up on the rest of what’s not quite everything it could be. If you don’t have a stick up your rear going in, Ocean’s 8 won’t give you one.
One improvement is that, except for Sandra Bullock, none of the eight we’re expected to identify with have much star power (I include Cate Blanchett and Anne Hathaway, who, as here, often shine best when the spotlight isn’t on them). The others don’t have much baggage and it lends them a kind of authentic anonymity that suits their parts well. Our Sandy is still reliable box office and everybody else’s bottomless capacity for blending in with the scenery is an asset in a story that has them disguised as waitresses and cooks and security personnel (or, in Hathaway’s case, a movie star who knows her stardom is on a short leash–hence the need for some serious cash!), on the day of the big heist.
It all comes off pretty well–the heist and the film. The student crowd I saw it with was entertained and so was I.
There is talk of a sequel and perhaps a new series–though where it would go is anybody’s guess. There was a chance to set a new, firmer footing here (the Soderberg series definitely played out to diminishing returns–that much I do remember). Early on, Bullock’s Debbie Ocean, just out of jail, meets with Blanchett’s “Lou” to sell her on the idea she cooked up on the long, lonely days inside. When Lou asks her why she needs to do this, Debbie’s answer–Because it’s what I’m good at–seems to put her in line with Warren Beatty’s character in 1966’s Kaleidoscope (which I watch endlessly). His answer to the same question was Once I had the idea, it was irresistible. Which in turn was not too far out of line with the famous response from the old real life bank robber on why he robbed banks. Because that’s where the money is.
Too bad Ocean’s 8 tries to develop a conscience and give Debbie Ocean a motive that could be mistaken for an excuse–and that, when it comes, it’s something as lame as revenge on an old boy friend. I’ll let you see the movie to find out just how that plays out and whether it works for you. Me, I would rather have any version of Because I can and because that’s where the money is handed to me straight, no moralizing chaser.
If he did you that dirty, shoot him in the head and disappear into the night (like you’ll have to do anyway–I mean the head shot and the disappearing act–if the slightest little thing in your hellishly complicated plot to steal a diamond necklace goes wrong).
If you are going to play at amorality in a first act (which is the working hypothesis for every movie that threatens to make money these days), you might as well go all the way.and leave redemption for the third act, if not out of it altogether.
And whoever is in charge of making the sequels should also get on with it.
Even Our Sandy can’t retain her girlish charm forever. And, when it comes to star power or cultural weight–and, sans special effects, conveying the panache required for an audience to suspend disbelief long enough to keep us from asking why anybody would follow her anywhere–no woman working in movies these days can carry her coat.
She’ll be fine. Her Harper Lee in Infamous (which wasted Catherine Keener’s strong take in Capote) has already proved she can slide into character parts any time she wants.
But where, in a world defined by diminishing results, will that leave us?