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Steven Soderbergh is one of the most experimental filmmakers working in Hollywood at the moment. His stylistic tendencies have led to some major successes, including 2001's Ocean's Eleven and the awards-friendly double of Traffic and Erin Brockovich in 2000. That string of hits has proven to be a career high point, which Soderbergh has since failed to match up to either commercially (such as Solaris) or critically (Ocean's Twelve). While Ocean's Thirteen represents a return to populist fare after a detour into arthouse territory, the director's fingerprints can still be seen everywhere, with some elaborate and unusual camera moves, frequent use of split-screen and a generally improvised feel. The action returns to the Las Vegas setting of the first instalment, but unfortunately that does not lead to a similar quality; sadly, Thirteen is much closer to Twelve than Eleven.
Part of the problem is Soderbergh's insistence to entertain himself with visual flourishes. The split-screen sections are often pointless, failing to add anything at all (sometimes the same shot is just duplicated), and are therefore just distracting. There's also one scene in which different shots are overlaid in the same frame, creating a weird, disorientating double-vision effect that makes it extremely difficult to discern what the visuals are actually showing. More damaging to the film, however, is its plot and the way it is delivered. There's an infuriating reluctance to give the audience the whole picture, which presumably is intended to keep us guessing but instead just makes it annoyingly hard to grasp what's going on. Much of the exposition is lumped into a confusing and overlong briefing in the first act delivered by Eddie Izzard, which intercuts numerous times to other locations. Throughout the film the necessary intercutting between the various characters is on the whole not handled particularly well, with scenes ending abruptly and not linking to the next, leading to an overall disjointed feel.
All the characters are given something to do - which must have been a headache for the screenwriters - but somehow few really shine. Most of the characters have no particular arc and are allowed scant time for character development with so many competitors for the dialogue and screen time. Even Clooney is on the sidelines for a sizeable portion of the heist. And what of the most high-profile new addition to the cast? Well, Al Pacino is Al Pacino, but he doesn't have all that much to do and is disappointingly restrained given his shouty reputation (perhaps he's consciously trying to reign it in?). It's a strange choice because this is the sort of role where those exaggerated mannerisms would have worked. The most amusing scenes are those in which some of the characters don ridiculous disguises, and again Matt Damon acquits himself well. But the crux of the film, the actual heist itself, isn't all that ingenious and seems to fall into place by chance rather than by design. There are also no real final-act twists that add a new spin on the events that have gone before. It all adds up to a lacklustre and even slightly boring sequel. Again.
The summary
Ocean's Thirteen doesn't make all the same mistakes of Twelve, but it fails to be much of an improvement (if at all) due to an uncreative yet over-complicated plot and a lurching pace. Stick to Eleven.
