The Greatest Trick

After the grotesquely self-indulgent Ocean’s Twelve, Ocean’s Thirteen is something of a return to form for director Steven Soderbergh’s caper franchise. Whilst it fails to reach the cool heights scaled by the first film, it is an amusing if familiar and predictable diversion, directed with Soderbergh’s usual flair. It’s certainly a much more entertaining prospect than any of the other “threequels” that have thus far been unleashed this silly season.

The plot concerns odious, egomaniacal casino owner Willy Bank, who double-crosses one of the original eleven, Reuben Tishkoff, leaving him in a coma. Danny Ocean and his usual gang decide a little pay-back is in order, and once again a spectacularly complicated and audacious heist is initiated. However, this time, its not so much about getting rich as righting wrongs whilst taking a truly despicable man down several pegs.

Performances are all good, and each actor in the gang is given his particular moment to shine, as befits a good ensemble cast. All the usual suspects (Matt Damon, Elliot Gould, Don Cheadle et al) are as likeable as ever, and the impossibly cool buddy chemistry between George Clooney and Brad Pitt is particularly well done. Al Pacino is suitably nasty as Willy Bank, and only by dragging in Andy Garcia, the mark from the first film, does Ocean’s Thirteen strike a slightly too improbable note. However, there is a hilarious gag involving Garcia and Oprah Winnfrey that almost justifies his inclusion.

Soderbergh’s version of Oceans Eleven was a rare example of a remake being far superior to the original. Whilst this wasn’t all that remarkable in itself considering the original wasn’t particularly great, repeated viewings have proved it is something of a heist classic, even though it is fluff when compared to Soberbergh’s other output (Traffic, Sex Lies and Videotape, Erin Brockovitch and so forth). Oceans Thirteen is also fluff, but unlike Ocean’s Twelve, at least its entertaining fluff.

Simon Dillon, June 2007.

Pretty tricky to categorize, this - an adaptation of the apparently unfilmable novel Tristram Shandy (I haven’t read it, so I wouldn’t know) which does exactly what it says on the tin: presents a story that is a load of rubbish. It claims cleverness in every frame, but in fact falls short on a regular basis.

Directed by Michael Winterbottom, the film is a mixture of footage from an adaptation of The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy by Laurence Sterne, starring Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon, and behind the scenes ‘making-of’ footage of the actors and film crew going through the creative process in making said film, along with a little extra “depth” in Coogan’s personal story while this film is being made. This may sound confusing reading it here, but when watching, things become a bit clearer. So we begin with Coogan playing Shandy, then Shandy’s father, then Coogan playing Coogan takes over, and this is actually what we follow for the majority of the movie. And what is important to notice, and what is really the movie’s downfall in fact, is that when Coogan and Brydon play themselves, they are still playing roles, playing versions of themselves if you like - and Steve Coogan’s alternative version of himself isn’t pleasant at all.

I’m guessing this is all supposed to be part of the joke and the cleverness of it, but it didn’t wash with this viewer - it just made me more certain about the vanity-project-ness of the whole thing - “Oh, look, aren’t I clever for being able to play about 6 roles in a film, some of which are kind of like me but nastier so we must make sure he changes to become nice by the end, and we can even make ironic gags about me wanting to be the star of the film in the script about the film, blah blah blah…” It just ends up as a big ego-trip as far as one can tell, with the most consistently funny actor and character (Rob Brydon) sidelined in the film, just as they joke about his character being sidelined in the movie they are making. It also seems like they were actually going to try to film Tristram Shandy and gave up due to it being difficult, so made this other cinematic half-breed instead. It’s neither period piece nor making-of nor mockumentary - it’s just a bit of a mess.

Which is not to say that there is nothing good about the film - there are some nice gags, particularly about actorly vanity and the weird people you get on film sets (an amusing example being Mark Williams as a self-appointed historical adviser on the Tristram Shandy adaptation), and Brydon in particular is worth watching as the warmer and funnier of the two. But what you mostly get after watching it, along with its sexual references and swearing, is a nagging sense that there could be a good adaptation of this novel to be made - but this wasn’t it AND the alternative experiment didn’t really work either.