Ocean’s 8
Directed by Gary Ross
Starring Sandra Bullock, Cate Blanchett, Helena Bonham Carter, Rhianna, Sarah Paulson, Anne Hathaway, Mindy Kaling, and Awkwafina.
Reviewed by Michael Dalton
[rating: 4/5]
Pardon the irony but I am a Sucker for heist movies. Give me an urbane mastermind, the usual suspects, the museum’s blueprints, and an intricate security system to outwit and I’m a goner. Jules Dassin directed two of the greatest heist films of all time, the downbeat Rififi from 1955 and the technicolour Topkapi from 1964. Clearly obsessed with method and timing, Dassin was a master at exploring the intricacies and it rippled on with the pitiful Ocean’s 11, its colourful remake and sequels by Steven Soderbergh, The Sting, Spike Lee’s epic Inside Man, The Town by Ben Affleck et al. Now in Gary Ross’s hip, smooth new film Ocean’s 8, the ladies take the reins. Critics and punters alike have complained it’s lazy. Jia Tolentino, reviewing for The New Yorker, declared it “hypercompetent and artless”. Artless? What was she expecting? A masterpiece equal to the decorative walls of the crime scene? In this era of the brainless, explosive, and exploited, Ross’s caper is like an empowering tonic.
It begins with Debbie Ocean (Sandra Bullock), yes that Ocean, being released from a nearly six-year incarceration for forgery after being double-crossed by her sleazy lover. She returns to New York feeling vengeful, effortlessly steals supplies from Saks Fifth Avenue, scams a hotel room at The Plaza, and makes contact with Lou (Cate Blanchett, kitted out like a 70s rockchick) who she fills in on her plan to steal a fortune in jewels in the form of a Cartier necklace that hasn’t left the company vault in 50 years. What they need to do is arrange for someone to wear it to the Met Gala but first they must harness a hacker (Rhianna), a lightning fast pickpocket (Awkwafina), a dress designer (Helena Bonham Carter), a jewellery expert (Mindy Kaling) and a fence (Sarah Paulson). Meeting and watching these women for whom crime is a full time occupation is one of the pleasures of Ross’s film and with Daniel Pemberton’s sexy score underpinning the action, it’s pure seduction and Ross charges the film with it. With the posse assembled, Debbie announces there is one last player needed, a mule, and onto the screen slinks Anne Hathaway as Daphne Kluger, an obnoxious, spoilt Hollywood actress, too susceptible to flattery and even more entranced by the eye-catching jewels. For all the beguiling appeal of her adversaries, Hathaway’s tootsie almost hijacks the film.
The heist itself is what you’d expect, an electronically controlled affair (loaded with cameos) where everything must run to schedule (and it almost does) and a final sleight of hand that might’ve astounded Danny Ocean himself. Some have complained that it all plays out like a well-oiled machine with only minor cogs but they’ve missed the point. Highly intelligent ladies are in charge, always a few steps ahead of any mishap, and when the plan lags they crack the whip. What a frustration it is then that after all the flashiness, couture, and shapely fun, with Bullock, Hathaway, and Bonham Carter stealing the show, the crime is investigated by the woeful James Corden who stops Ross’s smooth ride short (he’s the film’s cog). Seemingly unaware of where he is and why, his masquerade as an insurance investigator is so anonymous and so frightfully dull, it all but lets the air out of the final act. Where’s Alfred Molina when you need him?
Still, this one is all about les femmes. Sleek, slick, beautiful, and funny, they’re just too cool to fool.
