If you, like me, are someone who thinks that the cast of Ocean’s 8 is enough to make a decent movie, then you might be pleased to learn that Ocean’s 8 is more than happy to prove that theoretical claim, by giving its star-studded cast very little in the way of writing or directorial oomph. And guess what? It’s still a terrific heist movie worthy of inclusion in the Ocean’s canon. A zippy, funny ensemble comedy that gives credence to its movie stars and very little else. The film makes quick work of previous films in the franchise (in its first few minutes, it announces George Clooney’s Danny Ocean dead), and starts fresh, with Danny’s sister Debbie, who is played by Sandra Bullock. Bullock in this part is a casting decision so obvious, it seems almost unfair. The role highlights all her skills for carrying a film – she even gets to speak German!
Bullock is flanked by Cate Blanchett, who plays Lou, a leather-clad night club manager who is also Debbie’s best friend and partner in crime. After nearly six years in prison, Debbie arrives back in New York City to tell Lou about the next big score. The two women round up a team which includes a neurotic, over-the-hill fashion designer (Helena Bonham Carter), a masterful hacker (Rihanna), an expert pickpocket (Awkwafina), a beleaguered jewel expert (Mindy Kaling) and a former profiteer turned homemaker (Sarah Paulson). Together, they plan to steal an $150 million necklace during the Met Gala, with the help of a superstar actress, Daphne Kluger (a wonderfully obtuse Anne Hathaway), who is none the wiser of her placement as a pawn in the grand scheme.
Ocean’s 8 arrives with less fanfare than, say, Avengers: Infinity War, but it also comes free of the hostility that has plagued other all-female reboots. There appears to be less gatekeepers looking to feverishly protect the manliness of Ocean’s Eleven, which was one of the greatest heist films of all time, but not exactly something that sat deep within the lexicon of angry nerdom. Like Eleven, Ocean’s 8 is almost exclusively a star vehicle, a showcase of charisma, otherworldly beauty and sharp dialogue. Eleven was directed by Steven Soderbergh, considered by many to be one of the modern masters, while 8 is directed by Gary Ross, a filmmaker more known for solid competence than skill and precision. He seems less a director and more an insurance policy against any ideas that this movie would become too interesting. So Ross does his best job at a Soderbergh facsimile, and he mostly pulls it off, except that there are no surprises, no flourishes, nothing that allows Ocean’s 8 to plant its flag of individuality.
Maybe that’s asking too much of this film, very much a product of a studio pipeline looking to mine every possible resource from its past successes. It does have Bullock and Blanchett, two actors that I’d call geniuses, even if it is in very different ways. You get excited for a Cate Blanchett performance because you rarely know what to expect, you get excited for Bullock because you always know what to expect. That they can come together here and give what I feel is a striking portrayal of sisterhood and solidarity is an admirable enough reason to see a movie. Add to that high charm from Hathaway and Kaling, wonderfully nebbish supporting performances from Carter and Paulson, strong laugh lines from Awkwafina and the full-on wow factor of Rihanna, Ocean’s 8 is the kind of tossed-off Hollywood sure thing I’d like to see more of.
Directed by Gary Ross