This ‘Ocean’s’ sequel puts ladies first
Behind every man, they say, stands a woman — trying to pick his pocket. Okay, so they don’t really say that, but Ocean’s 8 does offer us a gallery of gals who are gifted with the grift, trying to pull off a heist that will leave them sitting pretty.
Their mission is to rob the Met Gala, a glitzy New York City event in which the fashion world gathers to parade prized dresses and bling. A perfect opportunity for eight ladies looking to upgrade their accessories.
Specifically, we have Sandra Bullock (Debbie Ocean, young sis to George Clooney’s master con man Danny Ocean), Cate Blanchett (her pal Lou), Mindy Kalig (jewel maker Amita), Sarah Paulson (soccer mom), Awkwafina (pickpocket), Rihanna (superhacker), Helena Bonham Carter (down-on-her-luck dress designer) and Anne Hathaway, rounding off things in this sideways sequel to the Ocean’s 11 movies.
And a solid eight is about how successful the ladies are at recreating the camaraderie, comic dialogue and slick vibe of those earlier movies, originally steered by Steven Soderbergh. Here, it’s Hunger Games director Gary Ross behind the camera, in a plausible homage to the original trilogy’s style, down to the lighting, split screens and jazzy score by Daniel Pemberton. You start out with Bullock sitting before a prison parole board (just like big bro Danny earlier), having served a stretch of five years, eight months and 12 days; there’s a whole “assemble the team” sequence, in which the bare outlines of the heist are revealed; and instead of tapping into Vegas casinos to rip off clueless owner Andy Garcia, we have an equally diamond-studded locale, New York’s Metropolitan, where a certain clueless actress and celebrity (Hathaway) is set up to be the dupe. Hathaway, by the way, has a lot of fun playing with her image as a vacuous would-be socialite. But it’s Bonham Carter, as scattered Irish couturier Rose Weil, who draws the most laughs.
Our ensemble consists entirely of women, if you hadn’t noticed, and this is a nod to #MeToo as well as to anybody else who might wish to pick a fight. “No men on this job?” Lou asks Debbie. “No men. If you want to get noticed, hire some men. If you want to be invisible, hire some women.” This is perhaps a too on-the-nose quip about women’s status in Hollywood, and it’s actually ironic considering all the male web trolling whenever a female cast does take over a precious male franchise property, such as Ghostbusters or Dr. Who. Certain angry young males do notice when a woman gets the job. Hell, even Kelly Marie Tran of Star Wars: The Last Jedi got male-trolled by sexist and racist pigs online for stepping into a largely male world.
Mostly, Ocean’s 8 coasts on the smooth operations of a heist in play, and one could argue Soderbergh, who executive produces, has already done this sort of thing in his sleep (see: Logan Lucky for proof). Here, while there’s an opportunity to show women working together in harmony (almost a rainbow coalition, in fact), no real female “bonds” are generated among the crew. Still, Debbie gives a pre-heist speech that’s meant to inspire: “Don’t do this for me. Don’t do this for you. Somewhere out there is an eight-year-old girl lying in bed dreaming of being a criminal. Let’s do this for her.”
Rousing words, for sure. Notice, though, that if it were Clooney delivering the speech, he wouldn’t have to inspire the guys to steal. They’d just do it for the money.
Another interesting change from the earlier Ocean’s movies is that before, the guys relied on simply being, or looking, cool. The sight of Brad Pitt eating ice cream or Clooney in a tux was enough, apparently, to carry on a collective idea of “cool” possibly dimly recalled from the ‘60s Rat Pack version of Ocean’s 11.
The women, it seems, have to work harder to justify their every action. Sure, they basically all just want to pocket hefty millions and walk away scot-free (there’s a nice scene at the Met Gala where the crew members are allowed to step up into luxury, and out the door). But they still have to tack on a purpose. As though being cool isn’t enough.
Anyway, Bullock has a hidden agenda in her plan, which leads a concerned Lou to mutter “Do not run a job in a job,” and this leads to one of only two male side characters (Richard Becker as Debbie’s old boyfriend) turning up; the other male is James Corden, which, amid all the celeb cameos — Anna Wintour, Heidi Klum, Kim Kardashian, Serena Williams, Katie Holmes — may make you go, “Hey, look, James Corden is playing himself.” But he’s not.
The MacGuffin in all of this is a prized Cartier necklace usually kept in a bank vault, but somehow ending up around Hathaway’s neck. This leads to amusing bits involving Bonham Carter and Hathaway’s ample bosom. The younger team members also get to shine a bit: Rihanna is self-possessed as a computer whiz known as Nine Ball, and Kalig has her usual comic appeal (“Taylor Swift is gonna be there? Can’t we just go to the Gala? Do we have to rob it?”)
Ultimately, for this eight, more than jewels, the appeal of the heist is about the thrill of pulling it off — just getting into the thick of things, instead of being an appendage or bystander. Instead of being ignored. That counts as a #MeToo message, in a movie that doesn’t really need one.
