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Jewel in the Ocean's crown: There are giant waves of fun as Rihanna joins Sandra Bullock in an all-girl reboot of the Rat Pack's classic crime caper, says BRIAN VINER
By Brian Viner for the Daily Mail
Published: 22:59 BST, 14 June 2018 | Updated: 23:59 BST, 14 June 2018
Frank Sinatra and his alpha-male Rat Pack cohorts would be tickled, or possibly aghast, to see what their 1960 crime caper Ocean's Eleven started.
First, there was the well-received 2001 remake with George Clooney in the Sinatra role as wise-cracking heist mastermind Danny Ocean, followed by a pair of shakier sequels.
And now there's an all-female gang doing the crime-capering, with Sandra Bullock (playing Danny's sister, Debbie), Cate Blanchett, Anne Hathaway, Helena Bonham Carter and popstar Rihanna all in lively form.
Another knee in the crotch on behalf of those screaming gender inequality in Hollywood, or just a contrivance to squeeze even more dollars out of a franchise that was becoming tired? I'll let you decide.
Either way, the good news is that this is the best of the Ocean-going films since 2001.
But first, some caveats. Unlike the fabulous diamond necklace at the heart of the story, the film is not without flaws.
The character development could be better (ie, there could be some) and James Corden, joining the action late, is miscast as an astute insurance investigator.
He's a talented fellow and all that, but I don't think he's quite the actor he and everyone else seems to think he is.
Somehow, playing a facetious clever-clogs, as he does here, he's more of an irritant to the audience than he is to the characters, which isn't the idea at all.
At any rate, Oscar Isaac, a very classy actor indeed, played a similar part in last year's Suburbicon (directed by Clooney, coincidentally) and effortlessly stole all his scenes. Corden, just as effortlessly, rather botches his.
Those are the negatives. But looking beyond them, Ocean's 8 is great fun, a giggly, escapist joyride of a picture slickly marshalled by The Hunger Games director Gary Ross, who also co-wrote the screenplay with Olivia Milch.
Incidentally, she is the daughter of David Milch, the hotshot TV producer who created hits such as NYPD Blue and Deadwood. And Ross's father was Arthur A. Ross, the screenwriter behind Creature From The Black Lagoon.
Hollywood family trees teem with inter-marriage and myriad connections just like those of European royalty, which aptly enough brings us to the plot, because European royalty is the theme of the Met Gala, annual fundraiser for the Metropolitan Museum of Art and highlight of the year for all New York City socialites, which Debbie and her gang are targeting.
The film begins with her getting out of jail after serving five years for fraud, and diving straight back into a life of shoplifting and petty scams.
But she has something bigger in mind. Danny is dead and she needs to live up to the family's reputation for grand larceny.
So she hooks up again with her old accomplice Lou (Blanchett), a leather-jacketed rock chick.
The script hints coyly at a past lesbian love affair between the pair, but personal lives play second fiddle, maybe even third fiddle, to the intricacies of Debbie's scheme to get rich.
Her former boyfriend, an oily English art dealer played by Richard Armitage, who helped to send her to prison and with whom Debbie has vowed to get even, is more a device than a character.
The all-girl group of swindlers are trying to steal expensive jewellery from stars at the Met Gala like Anne Hathaway
Lou runs a nightclub these days, and watering down the vodka is the height of her dishonesty. She quickly buys into Debbie's ingenious plan to steal the famous $150 million 'Toussaint' necklace, which is kept deep in the vaults of the jewellers, Cartier.
Naturally, to pull off the heist, they need assorted criminal talents, but they also need a stooge. Hathaway plays spoilt, self-absorbed actress Daphne Kluger (sending up all spoilt, self-absorbed actresses beautifully), who is identified as little more than a mannequin.
At the insistence of the eccentric Irish fashion designer dressing her (Bonham Carter, deliciously over the top, recalling the excesses of her fairy godmother in 2015's Cinderella), Daphne will wear the necklace to the gala.
With some brilliant jiggery-pokery, Debbie and her team must then pinch it from under the noses of a formidable security detail.
That's the plan, which also relies on the expertise of a computer hacker (Rihanna), a pickpocket (Awkwafina), a fence (Sarah Paulson) and a jewellery-cutter (Mindy Kaling), making the titular Ocean's 8.
Additionally, the film throws us a few 24-carat celebrity cameos (Anna Wintour, Serena Williams), which is another reason not to take it the slightest bit seriously. If you go along with that, an hour and 50 minutes will pass very enjoyably indeed.
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/article-5846005/Oceans-8-jewel-franchises-crown-says-Brian-Viner.htmlZitat:
Ocean’s Eight movie review: revenge of the women
by MaryAnn Johanson
Thu Jun 14 2018, 10:27pm | 2 comments
Ocean's Eight green light
MaryAnn’s quick take…
I’m “biast” (pro): I’m desperate for movies about women; love the cast
I’m “biast” (con): nothing
Oh, thank goodness. I was dreading discovering that Ocean’s Eight was yet another pointless retread, a cheap knockoff devoid of spark or life, nothing more than cinematic chum soon to be tossed into the Netflix mix to tempt us to log in on a Friday night. But it’s not! It’s fun, breezy, occasionally witty, features some wonderfully subtle comic performances from a great cast, and is perfectly suitable light diversion from the shitshow that is the world at the moment.
Okay, yes, this movie is a retread. It is a knockoff. It can’t hold a candle to Soderbergh’s 2001 Ocean’s Eleven; it hasn’t got the insouciant verve. But then again, what can and what does? And let us also remember that that movie, glorious as it would have been at any moment in time, arrived in the wake of enormous disaster that had stunned us, and offered us cheery, inconsequential-in-the-best-way distraction. I’m not saying our love for that movie is unfair, but I do suspect that our memories of seeing it that first time will always be colored by what a blessed relief it was.
Am I praising with faint damns? Possibly. Am I letting myself be unreasonably distracted in another moment of enormous disaster? Could be. But Ocean’s Eight has something that the other Ocean’s films did not have: the freshness of an all-female primary cast. (For the millionth goddamn time: this shouldn’t be enough to make a movie feel fresh. But it still is.) And it has something else that even other movies with all-women casts — especially those that come out of Hollywood and are intended for mainstream entertainment — mostly do not know how to cope with: Ocean’s Eight is very much about women and things that many women like — fashion, celebs, jewelry, revenge against men who’ve wronged us — without ever demeaning those women, infantilizing them, or ridiculing girly interests. (It does quite the opposite, in fact.) We’ve seen the likes of that crap too often recently: looking at you, I Feel Pretty and Book Club. (“Book clubs are the worst!” one of the women exclaims here, by way of saying that being part of a smart, stylish crime gang is a helluva lot more fun to have with your girlfriends. But that’s surely a coincidence.)
Unlike many other movies about women, this one does not demean or infantilize us, nor does it ridicule girly interests.
Con artist Debbie Ocean (Sandra Bullock: Our Brand Is Crisis, Minions) and her shady pal Lou (Cate Blanchett: Thor: Ragnarok, Truth) embark on a plan to snatch $150 million worth of antique diamonds off the neck of a starlet at the annual glitzy Met Gala in New York. As a heist caper, Eight is, it’s true, nowhere near as deliciously tricksy as what Debbie’s brother Danny and his gang pulled off in Las Vegas. (We get a snippet of news about Danny’s whereabouts as the film opens, and I was instantly like, Nah, he scammed that… moments before Debbie voices the same doubts.) But what Eight might lack in plot twistiness it more than makes up for in overt commentary about how the low regard in which our society holds women will work to their benefit; it becomes meta commentary on Hollywood’s lack of respect for women, too. In order to pull off their robbery, Debbie’s team will assume the sorts of invisible helper roles that women perform every day that keep the world running, and that make events like the Met Gala happen, from administrative interns to kitchen staff. These are the women who “get ignored,” Lou says to justify why she doesn’t want any men on the team, “and we want to get ignored.” Ocean’s Eight makes a sly, bitter joke — and an act of cultural revenge — out of how these ingenious women make themselves very, very rich by taking on “approved” roles, with their own, and contrary, agenda also at work, one that no one would guess at because, hey, women can’t be criminal masterminds, can they?
To see so many brilliant, competent female characters, played by such a delightful cast having a ball, none of whom are chasing men or romance, all in one movie, is such joy! There’s Amita (Mindy Kaling: The Night Before, Inside Out), a jeweler, who will deal with the diamonds themselves. There’s Tammy (Sarah Paulson: The Post, Carol), a successful fence, who will help them move the score. Constance (Awkwafina: Neighbors 2: Sorority Rising) is master sleight-of-hand, which makes her a great pickpocket and snatch-thief. “Nine Ball” (Rihanna: Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets, Home) is their hacker extraordinaire. Rose Weil (Helena Bonham Carter [Sgt. Stubby: An American Hero, Alice Through the Looking Glass], very much sending herself up, delectably) is the fashion designer who will dress the unwitting eighth member of the gang, diva actress Daphne Kluger (Anne Hathaway: Colossal, The Intern). No spoilers, but what screenwriters Gary Ross, who also directed (as he did Free State of Jones and The Hunger Games), and Olivia Milch do with Daphne’s character plays with assumption about famous women, especially women famous for being beautiful in public, to marvelous satiric effect. And Hathaway’s performance is an absolute gem; if Bonham Carter is sending herself up, Hathaway launches her own public persona into cunning comedic orbit. (I feel like the fact that Blanchett gets to use her own Australian accent onscreen for the first time in a long time, at least in a big movie, is a criticism of how we don’t let women be themselves onscreen.)
Anne Hathaway’s performance is an absolute gem. She’s not just sending herself up: she launches her public persona into cunning comedic orbit.
I mean, gosh, there’s even a really funny — and insightful — line, which I wouldn’t dream of spoiling, when Debbie is talking about her former relationship with asshole socialite art dealer Claude Becker (a sensationally hideous Richard Armitage: Pilgrimage, The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies), and why he deserves to be set up as their fall guy for the heist. (They maneuver it so that he’s Daphne’s date for the Met Gala.) She’s explaining what she saw in him, despite the fact that he’s a spectacular jerk, and it’s a terrific illustration of a modern woman’s expectations about what a man needs to bring to a romance nowadays.
There are plot holes here, but I can forgive them. My one big complaint about Ocean’s Eight, one I can’t find a way around: the presence of James Corden (Peter Rabbit, Trolls) as the insurance investigator brought in after the theft of the necklace is discovered. This character should have been played by another badass woman. But maybe I’m just getting greedy. Ocean’s Eight did that to me. If we can get all these fabulous women onscreen, why can’t we get one more? Why can’t get movies like this one all the time… just like men get?
https://www.flickfilosopher.com/2018/06/oceans-eight-movie-review-revenge-women.htmlZitat:
OCEAN’S 8 — Review by Susan Granger
Posted by Susan Granger on Jun 13, 2018 | 0 Comments
Opening with a scene reminiscent of Steven Soderbergh’s Ocean’s Eleven (2001), this caper comedy introduces the late, lamented Danny Ocean’s younger sister Debbie (Sandra Bullock), leaving prison after five-years, eight months and 12 days behind bars. Swinging into action, Debbie purloins beauty products from Bergdorf Goodman, forges a posh Manhattan hotel registration, liberates a suitcase off a bellman’s cart and contacts her cool wing-woman Lou (Cate Blanchett) to explain an intricate scheme she’s been working on during her incarceration. Continue reading…
“Why do you need to do this?” Lou asks. “Because it’s what I’m good at,” Debbie answers.
She’s after serious ‘bling,’ namely Cartier’s Toussaint, a dazzling, six-pound diamond necklace, worth $150 million, which will be around the neck of vain, It Girl actress Daphne Kluger (Anne Hathaway) at the upcoming Metropolitan Museum of Art’s annual Gala. Their job is to exchange it for a perfectly crafted cubic zirconia copy.
But that involves a team effort, so she recruits Rose Weil (Helena Bonham Carter), a career-crazed couturier; Nine Ball (pop star Rihanna), an intrepid hacker; Tammy (Sarah Paulson), a proficient fence; Amita (Mindy Kaling), a diamond expert; and Constance (Awkwafina), a pickpocket/hustler.
Why an all-woman crew? As Debbie notes, “A ‘him’ gets noticed; a ‘her’ gets ignored. And, for once, we’d like to be ignored.”
Helmed by pedestrian director Gary Ross (“Pleasantville.” “Seabiscuit”), who collaborated on the superficial, gender-flipped script with Olivia Milch, there are lots of cameos, including Heidi Klum, Kim Kardashian, Katie Holmes, Dakota Fanning, Hailey Baldwin, Maria Sharapova, Olivia Munn, even Anna Wintour.
Early on, Debbie is determined to wreak vengeance against her smarmy ex-boyfriend, Claude Becker (Richard Armitage). And after the jewel heist, James Corden appears as a savvy insurance investigator.
FYI: In a mausoleum scene, one stone reads “Helga M. Meyer,” that’s the maiden name of Sandra Bullock’s late mom.
On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, Oceans 8 scores a sparkling 7, an adventurous, fun chick-flick.
http://awfj.org/blog/2018/06/13/oceans-8-review-by-susan-granger/Zitat:
In Ocean’s 8, Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend
The latest in the heist series pays lip service to women's equality, but the gang can't quite get its message straight.
By Josephine Livingstone
June 12, 2018
“A him gets noticed, a her gets ignored—and for once, we want to be ignored.” Debbie Ocean (Sandra Bullock) is defending her decision to draft only women into her heist squad. Over five years in prison, she has plotted to steal a $150 million diamond necklace at the Met Gala. Women will never be the prime suspects, Debbie’s argument goes, and besides—they’re doing this for all the little girls out there who dream of growing up to be career criminals. Amid this flurry of faux-feminist (fauxminist?) gags, Ocean’s 8 runs on two core questions: Will this gang of plucky gals make off with the loot? And will Gary Morris produce a film to rival Steven Soderbergh’s 2001 Ocean’s Eleven, the one that started this whole franchise? The answer, predictably, is yes and no.
We start with a parole meeting, which sees Debbie waltz out of jail in the evening dress she was wearing when she was caught for art fraud. Ocean’s Eleven began the same way, with Danny Ocean (George Clooney) in black tie. While Danny formed a leadership duo with Rusty (Brad Pitt), Debbie hooks up with the reptilian Lou (Cate Blanchett). As Debbie’s plan gains momentum, the pair are joined by Constance the sleight-of-hand master (Awkwafina), Nine Ball the hacker (Rihanna), Tammy the fence (Sarah Paulson), Rose Weil the designer (Helena Bonham Carter), Amita the jeweler (Mindy Kaling), and, eventually, Daphne the movie star (Anne Hathaway). From an industrial-minimal Brooklyn warehouse, the gang get planning.
The movie features various callbacks to the previous films. Tammy gets pulled out of retirement just like Saul does, except her “retirement” is suburban momhood. Lou does a lot of saying “I’m out.” Debbie closes out the movie wearing a suit and an undone black bowtie, just as Danny ended Ocean’s Eleven.
But from the start we realize that this movie is not going to have that Soderberghian panache. For one thing, the super-glossy, super-detailed quality that is predominant in Hollywood movies today strips this heist movie of the ‘70s atmosphere of its predecessors. There are no split-screen shots until the end of the movie. The soundtrack is pretty good, but it’s far subtler than Soderbergh’s in-your-face use of Perry Como, Quincy Jones, Handsome Boy Modeling School, and Debussy.
Perhaps it’s unfair to compare this reboot to that first movie. Ocean’s Twelve and Thirteen were pretty bad, too. But so much is recycled here—the comic duo in the lead, the camaraderie—that it’s impossible to avoid. And as I re-watched the 2001 movie right after seeing the new one, it became abundantly clear that certain changes to the plot formula of the Ocean’s recipe had robbed this movie of a lot of magic.
First, the stylized Italian Job vibe is gone in favor of something lighter, more natural. But second and more importantly, there is no villain. In every one of the three male Ocean’s pictures (for want of a better term), an antagonist set the terms for the heist team’s redemption. In the first movie, it was Terry Benedict (Andy Garcia). In the second, it was Benedict again, plus François Toulours (the divine Vincent Cassel). In the third, Willy Bank (Al Pacino!). But here there is only one useless bloke on the sidelines named Claude (Richard Armitage), the informant who put Debbie in jail.
Director Gary Ross (Seabiscuit, The Hunger Games) has said that this movie is “about camaraderie, not antagonism.” That theme is presumably supposed to play into the idea of solidarity between women, a playful job where the stakes are all cash, no heartbreak. Although this movie is fun, the subtraction of rivalry makes for a movie that is inevitably less riveting. Ocean’s Thirteen was not a perfect movie, but the premise was. The team was hitting Willy Bank’s hotel in revenge for his double-cross of their friend Reuben (Elliott Gould). They did it for a pal. They did it for love. And diamonds are just not as good as revenge.
The heist itself is cool, involving a lot of fancy tricks and undercover work. The team communicates over iMessage, which seems like very bad OPSEC, but otherwise the mechanics of the operation are believable. Still, this leads to the third element missing from this heist plot: an obstacle. Every other movie has featured several stumbling blocks, moments where the viewer is unsure whether the team will succeed. Although there is a minor hiccup at the end, the movie otherwise runs on very smooth wheels. They hatch the plan, they execute the plan. That’s it.
Sandra Bullock is a very fine comic actress, but the pairing with Cate Blanchett doesn’t quite fire up the way that the Clooney-Pitt duet did. Blanchett looks fantastic, however. With her shaggy blonde cut and slinky suits, she looks like a cross between Kim Deal, Nico, and John Travolta. She rides a motorcycle and gives great eye contact. It’s a very queer performance and, even though it’s not funny, it’s among the movie’s most enjoyable.
The funniest performances come from Awkwafina, who skateboards to great effect, and—in a bizarre twist—Anne Hathaway. I wouldn’t have believed Hathaway could steal a scene from Mindy Kaling or Helena Bonham Carter, but the role of flinty narcissist with hidden smarts is perfect for her. In other surprises, James Corden does a very funny turn as an insurance investigator (“I’ve seen a racehorse thrown into a tree shredder ... for money”). The only reprised cast member from the other Ocean’s movies is Shaobo Qin as Yen, the acrobatic “grease man.”
There’s something about seeing a gang of women so uniformly hot and young-ish that is disappointing. The Ocean’s Eleven cast featured one late-middle aged and one truly elderly gentleman. Here, we see a gang of diverse but simultaneously homogenous women. That contrast serves to undercut the lip service to feminism done by the script. It would have been great to see, say, Joanna Lumley in this. There are some wonderful lines sprinkled throughout this movie, as when Tammy takes leave of her son by explaining that mommy has to go on a “very special work trip.” But otherwise, Ocean’s 8 is full of diamonds and lacking in sparkle.
https://newrepublic.com/article/148980/oceans-8-diamonds-girls-best-friendZitat:
Review
'It's by a Blogger': Jezebel's 10 Reviews Ocean's 8
Jezebel Staff
Wednesday 12:59pmFiled to: Ocean's GR8
Because we are women and therefore simple creatures who are easily enticed by a movie with a cast of all women, the Jezebel staff had been hotly anticipating Ocean’s 8 for awhile. For months, we would walk past promotional posters (“Every Con Has Its Pros,” they read) and would think, Good tagline! We’d then proceed to spend the rest of our lives on a New York City train while thinking about Ocean’s 8.
So of course, 10 of us decided to spent a nice Tuesday night in the city watching this fancy heist film starring Rihanna, Cate Blanchett, Anne Hathaway, Helena Bonham Carter, Awkwafina, Mindy Kaling, Sandra Bullock, and Sarah Paulson. The fashion! The jewels! The crime! The cameos! The movie? It was fun and ultimately fine. Similar to our Fifty Shades endeavors, we wrote about our experience. Here it is.
Cast and Performances—Harron Walker
It’s pretty fair to say that most of us would’ve bought a ticket to Ocean’s 8 just to watch the cast do stuff together on the big screen, regardless of how good the movie actually turned out to be. (Shout out to casting director Debra Zane!) Thankfully, Ocean’s 8 turned out to be pretty good, but it’s definitely aware of the fact that a lot of us want nothing more than to watch its stars be themselves, or at least a heightened version of who we imagine them to be.
There’s a meta element to everyone’s performances, save for Sarah Paulson’s Long Kiss Goodnight-style homemaker with a past, which makes sense given the fact that her public persona (a wonderful actress I want to see more of) doesn’t translate as well as those of the other women. It seems as if director Gary Ross rests on amplifying what we already like about the cast to fill in the gaps in character development that the film’s tight, under-two-hour runtime wouldn’t allow: Helena Bonham Carter’s fashion designer is an eccentric weirdo with a taste for the post-punk Victorian. Sandra Bullock’s heist leader is a no-nonsense boss lady with the driest of wits. Rihanna’s hacker is too cool to be there (and, for a few brief minutes towards the climax when she gets out of her hackerware, the hottest person onscreen slash ever). And Awkwafina as a hammy, scene-chewing pick pocket artist is…extremely Awkwafina!
Anne Hathaway’s cloying good girl actress definitely skewers the Anne we all loved to hate a few years ago.
Even the cast members who delve a little deeper into characterization use some element of their cult of personality to do so: Anne Hathaway’s cloying good girl actress definitely skewers the Anne we all loved to hate a few years ago, and Cate Blanchett’s lighter-flicking, Fosse-limbed Shane Who Won’t Leave You At The Altar seems tailormade to satisfy the CarolHive, to say nothing of the barely sub subtext between Blanchett and Bullock’s characters. This approach mostly works, except in the case of Mindy Kaling’s jewel appraiser, who wants nothing more than to move out of her mom’s place and live that romcom life. It’s true that she isn’t given that much to work with, but neither were Rihanna or Awkwafina, who both managed to create something dynamic by film’s end. Kaling’s character is definitely necessary to Ocean’s 8—it’s a movie about a jewel heist, after all. She just wasn’t that memorable.
The Audience—Katie McDonough
I entered the theater nervous that there wouldn’t be enough seats for all of us in the row we had reserved, but to my great relief there were enough. I sat next to Megan. From my vantage point in the last row, I could see very little except the back of each seat, tops sturdy and curved like a gravestone. I stood for a moment. At the front of the theater, I could see a ponytail peeking out from the seat cushion. I knew that this person, like me, was ready to be empowered by crime. In terms of audience reaction, people laughed a lot at a Tinder reference. [Ed Note: It’s a scene in which Mindy Kaling’s character swipes through Tinder with guidance from Awkwafina.]
We all liked the jokes and visual gags premised on society’s underestimation and erasure of women. Harron and Julianne laughed very hard, I think in a disdainful way, at a Banksy joke. Speaking for myself as an audience member, I liked that Cate Blanchett dressed like Mick Jagger, but did not like it when Rihanna took advantage of Paul and his love of Wheaten Terriers. I wanted the movie to end after the heist was done, when everyone was wearing cool dresses and looking triumphant. Instead, James Corden showed up.
The Script—Ellie Shechet
The script for Ocean’s 8 was fine, nothing to write home about. I’m speaking from a more literal perspective, as I took like three notes and really have very little to say here (Clover, can you guys please stop assigning me the script for these blogs, thank you so much?). Did I laugh uproariously? No. Did I cringe? Only a few times, like when James Corden yelled, “So you’re saying your company does nothing to prevent someone like BANKSY [from breaking into the museum]?” or when we learned, during a crime brainstorming session, that “Anna has to approve everything.” (You don’t say?)
I remember almost nothing Sandra Bullock said as Debbie Ocean, except it was all delivered very quickly with the tepid half-smile of a lady who loves to do crime. The script in this film was heroically and exactly just good enough to allow the film’s more exciting elements (the planning, the heist, Anne Hathaway’s acting as Daphne Kluger) to shine. [Ed. Note: The best line of this film, hands down, is the headline for this post, and it comes when Rose Weil (Helena Bonham Carter) is reading reviews of her fashion show.]
I felt much anxiety during the actual heist and its aftermath, which was another sign (for me) that it was a good one.
The Heist—Megan Reynolds
In my mind, the hallmarks of a good heist include but are not limited to: ingenuity, surprise, execution, and whether or not I feel any anxiety during the heist’s execution. I don’t know if this is what actually makes a good heist, because I lack the strategic planning and the poker face to pull one off myself. Working with these arbitrary rules, I have decided that the heist in Ocean’s 8 is a very good heist indeed.
Divulging the details of the heist will only ruin the actual experience of watching it, but here is the general outline: there are seven women who want to use Anne Hathaway cosplaying the worst version of herself to steal a big necklace from the Met Gala. There are many montages of preparing for the heist: buying special items, like Snapchat glasses that talk to a 3D printer, and many gowns. I felt much anxiety during the actual heist and its aftermath, which was another sign (for me) that it was a good one. Part of the thrill is wondering whether or not they’ll pull it off. But maybe the real hallmark of a good heist is the feeling of satisfaction on getting one over.
How It Stacks Up to the Original—Clover Hope
As you have likely read, the plot of Ocean’s 8 begins with a nod to Danny Ocean, aka George Clooney, who is fictionally dead, RIP, but his criminal spirit lives on in his sister Debbie Ocean, aka Sandra Bullock. She is him in this sequel (or rather, she’s her own woman), the master heist coordinator with a solid plan and a calm demeanor. Directed by Steven Soderbergh and itself a Rat Pack remake, Ocean’s Eleven was the ultimate ensemble heist film led by Brad Pitt, George Clooney and Julia Roberts. While Ocean’s Twelve took a dip in quality, Ocean’s Thirteen brought the ship back, from what I recall.
From the start, the Gary Ross-directed Ocean’s 8 swipes the template of the original (and I guess any caper film): there’s the presentation of the heist plan, the introduction of the players, the planning of said heist, a couple of hiccups along the way, an Anna Wintour cameo, poof, swipe, PUKE, and the heist is pulled off with a few wise cracks in between. It’s a fun, intended-to-be-dazzling adventure.
Here’s my gripe. Awkwafina plays a pick pocket artist, Mindy Kaling is a jewelry appraiser, and Helena Bonham Carter plays a fashion designer, which all works for getting the Met Gala job done. And perhaps I’m living too much in the past here, but what I loved about the original films was how each heist member’s specific talents were impressively executed. They somehow made a freaking contortionist acrobat (the Amazing Yen) part of the plan, had an explosives expert, mechanics, etc—and all that made for a fascinating heist. While the Ocean’s 8 version was indeed fun, I think they could’ve used a more oddball profession, someone whose singular skill would play well for the plan. The coolest job to me was (no bias) Rihanna’s hacker position and how it played into the real fact that privacy doesn’t exist. WATCH YOUR FOOTPRINT.
The fact that the acrobat from the original Ocean’s (played by Shaobo Qin) had to reemerge at the end of this movie seems to confirm that’s what was needed. It kinda sucks that ultimately they depended on a man to finish the job, but at least it was more like they were using him. In all, it’s hard to top the original. Ocean’s 8, while it got the job done, could’ve been much flyer.
She truly did immerse herself in this character.
Rihanna—Claire Shaffer
She was amazing, and she deserved so much better. That’s basically my opinion on the movie in general, but no more so than Rihanna. If you’re going into Ocean’s 8 expecting a sequel to “mahalo, motherfucker,” you’ll be thoroughly disappointed. However if, like me, you are pleasantly buzzed on canned rosé by the time RiRi shows up, you’ll find yourself softly “whoo”-ing when she appears onscreen, along with everyone else in the theater.
Rihanna plays an unassuming stoner-hacker named Nine Ball, whose real name is revealed to be Leslie. This, the movie tells us, is her only flaw. Like everyone else, she does the crime without a hitch, but unlike everyone else, she is stuck in front of a computer monitor inside a (very bougie) halal truck throughout most of the heist. There are many unbelievable and absurd things in this movie, but Rihanna stuck in a halal truck during the Met Ball takes the cake. Even in this alternate world where Rihanna, Queen of the Met Ball, does not exist, I have a feeling that had she walked onto the red carpet, Anna Wintour would have whipped around and whispered, “Oh….oh, her. Who is she?”
When Rihanna does finally arrive at the ball, glammed-up in celeb disguise along with the rest of the team, she’s basically wearing a more subdued, red version of her “Wild Thoughts” outfit. Boring and not on theme?? She truly did immerse herself in this character. It’s a shame because, while the movie goes out of its way to spoof the public personas of several of its stars – Anne Hathaway, Cate Blanchett, Helena Bonham Carter – it gives others, like Rihanna and Mindy Kaling, very little to do. Ri-Ri’s centerpiece of the movie is when she disguises herself as a janitor in the New York Times building. When everyone gets their $38 million and is fantasizing about what they’ll use it for, Nine Ball’s dream is to…open a billiards bar named Nine Ball’s. Still, on the slim chance that this bullshit leads to her starring in her own heist movie, it’ll all be worth it.
The Empowerment—Joanna Rothkopf
The uncomplicated Ocean’s 8, which I uncomplicatedly enjoyed, is all a-freakin’-bout signaling how empowering it is. There are basically no men in the first 10 minutes of the movie (other than a disembodied voice), and the men that do appear later are either ex- or potential boyfriends, uptight diamond protectors, or James Corden. Plus: these women know how to steal for themselves! Cate Blanchett has razored bangs! The song “Bossy” by Kelis plays for like one whole verse!
Within the script—which unfortunately focuses less on its perfect cast and more on executing a flawless heist—there are two moments when I bellowed an involuntary, guttural “YAS”: When Sandra Bullock’s Debbie Ocean says why she wants an all-woman heist team (“A him gets noticed and a girl gets ignored. For once we want to be ignored”), and when she says the pseudo-thesis statement of the movie: “Somewhere out there is an 8-year-old girl lying in bed, dreaming of being a criminal. Do this for her.”
The movie receives further empowerment points for allowing the women to fulfill their dreams with their earnings (Rihanna gets her own bar! Cate Blanchett gets to motorcycle down the PCH, but did we even know her character loves motorcycles! Awkwafina gets to join the co-op board!), and from Anne Hathaway’s divine line reading of, “Oh, look at you,” while staring in the mirror. Negative points for having the heist revolve around getting revenge on an ex-boyfriend. B+
I fell out of my freaking seat when Anne Hathaway’s character, Daphne Kluger, applied HER OWN MAKEUP for the Met Gala.
The Supporting Cast—Prachi Gupta
In a movie that has eight leads, there’s not a lot of room for supporting characters. It feels like a stretch to call Dakota Fanning, for example, a supporting character because she appeared in maybe two scenes, essentially just playing herself (a celebrity named Penelope Stern). So I’ll focus this review on the few recurring characters whose presence actually moved the plot forward. There was Claude, Debbie Ocean’s former lover interest, James Corden, who plays insurance claims agent John Frazier, and a team of interchangeable white men who all work for Cartier and speak varying degrees of French.
Claude (Richard Armitage) is a tall, almost handsome con-man who is, I think, meant to seem alluring to beautiful, rich, women, but I found him very boring and frankly did not understand why any of these wealthy, accomplished women would be into him. Conversely, he wasn’t quite unlikeable enough, either—I wasn’t rooting for his downfall, I was really just ambivalent about our tall, two-drinks-in, kind-of-hot Claude. Then there was Frazier, and I am surprised to say that I liked Corden in this role and only thought about Carpool Karaoke once while watching him. In fact, I wish there was more of Corden earlier on to build tension. He and Debbie clearly have a history, so it’s jarring to meet him at the end when there’s really no time to establish a strong connection. At least, unlike dear Claude, Frazier has a personality.
The Cameos—Sheena Raza Faisal
Two Ocean’s 11 characters make quick cameos, just in case you somehow forgot that this film is part of the Ocean’s franchise; Rueben (Elliot Gould) shows up to dissuade Sandra Bullock’s character Debbie from her heist plan in the beginning, and the Amazing Yen (Shaobo Qin) appears at a crucial moment to help the team out with his acrobatic skills. Dakota Fanning shows up for a hot second, which was maybe the most unexpected cameo out of the whole film. How is she these days? Everything good with her?
And we got a whole bunch of celebrity appearances in the Met Gala scenes; Kim Kardashian, Kylie and Kendall Jenner on the red carpet, Serena Williams, Common, Heidi Klum, Katie Holmes, Olivia Munn, Gigi Hadid in the bathroom line, and various other models who I do not know by name but might possibly follow on Instagram. My favorite cameo of the night, though, was the halal cart that doubled as remote operations center for Rihanna’s character Nine Ball. My least favorite sort-of-cameo was Banksy, because, what???
The Costumes/The Met Gala—Julianne Escobedo Shepherd
Look, I know a film series about a jewel heist is not humping for realism, but I fell out of my freaking seat when Anne Hathaway’s character, Daphne Kluger, applied HER OWN MAKEUP for the Met Gala. The idea that a famous actress who is the honorary celebrity host of fashion’s biggest night would be doing her own face in a robe right before someone plopped a $150 million necklace on her swan body is how you know that Ocean’s 8 was written and directed by a man. It’s simply not accurate, unbelievable, and contributes to the erasure of the hard work of makeup artists, who possess a noble craft that’s just as important to a red carpet than the fit of a gown. A deeply infuriating omission!
Otherwise, the costuming was aight. Hathaway, after doing her own lips (travesty!) in a Max Factor red, got to wear a demure hot pink gown with a long cape; the effect was quite deliberately Grace Kelly-esque—which it had to be, considering any Met Gala guest wearing a gauche diamond necklace with a dated drop-pendant design in 2018 is definitely going for retro, or for irony. Helena Bonham Carter, playing washed-up fashion designer Rose Weil, wears a giant bouquet of flowers atop her head, splitting the difference between Vivienne Westwood and Sarah Jessica Parker, and therefore realistic.
Sandra Bullock is entrusted with some extremely hideous sheer cut-out dresses, I guess meant to call back to Sopranos-style mob molls, but which are distracting. Cate Blanchett gets to wear pantsuits, though, which is only right, and Rihanna looks at home in a red taffeta gown that her character, Nine Ball, surprisingly does not accessorize with a crocheted tam in Rasta colors. We only get a glimpse of Awkwafina and Mindy Kaling in their Met Gala gowns, but we do get some screen time with Kim Kardashian, wordless, spray-tanned, sculpted, and wearing what appears to be the pelt of a llama.
The fashion was fine.
https://themuse.jezebel.com/its-by-a-blogger-jezebels-10-reviews-oceans-8-1826772352Zitat:
Ocean’s 8 - Five Reasons You’ll Love It
With takings of almost $1.2 billion across three movies, the Ocean’s trilogy was always red meat for a Hollywood hungry for bankable franchises to reboot, but the new take that arrives this week has its own distinct flavour.
The movie stars Sandra Bullock, Cate Blanchett, Anne Hathaway, Sarah Paulson, Mindy Kaling, Awkwafina, Rihanna and Helena Bonham Carter, with Richard Armitage and James Corden in supporting roles.
Gary Ross, director of the first Hunger Games movie, takes charge of the reboot, working from a screenplay from Queen & Country writer Olivia Milch.
There are cameos agogo, with the likes of Anna Wintour, Alexander Wang, Kim Kardashian, Maria Sharapova, Derek Blasberg, Lauren Santo Domingo, Zayn Malik, Kendall Jenner, Katie Holmes, Olivia Munn, Adriana Lima, Hailey Baldwin, Serena Williams, Kylie Jenner and Zac Posen all among the brief appearances you will see in the film.
The movie follows Bullock's Debbie, the estranged sister of Danny Ocean, George Clooney's original mastermind of the series. After being released from prison Debbie attempts to pull off the heist of the century at New York City's star-studded annual Met Gala. Her first stop is to assemble the perfect crew.
It arrives in cinemas on Monday (June 18th) and will be available to pre-order on DVD from hmv’s online store in the coming days, but before all that, we caught an early screening and can offer five reasons why you’ll love it...
It’s a lean, punchy thriller…
Coming in at 110 minutes, the movie moves at quite a click, especially as we need to meet all eight of these new heist queens, but the breezy pace and light touch make for a snappy and taut thriller.
The whole team are well cast…
Bullock and Blanchett lead the way here, but there's a good balance in the rest of the cast, from Rihanna's wise-cracking hacker Nine-Ball to Awkwafina's loudmouthed street hustler to Sarah Paulson's elegant Tammy and Anne Hathaway's bratty actress Daphne Kluger, it's a well-cast and well put together team.
Richard Armitage is a dashing villain...
The Hobbit star plays Claude Becker, a slippery, but very charming art dealer and former boyfriend of Debbie Ocean, a relationship that ended rather badly. With Debbie now out of prison, he's in her sights, can he stay out of trouble...
The Met Gala sequence is a slick marvel...
With the skinny running time, we don't spend a lot of time to getting to know the characters, instead, it all builds to the central heist. Glitzy, glamorous and beautifully shot, it's a huge amount of fun to watch it happen.
Things are set up nicely for another round...
We won't spoil the ending, but there's definitely potential for a sequel after this movie. The formula laid down by the original Ocean's trilogy is quite simple, just add another member to the crew and keep going. Ocean's 9 and Ocean's 10 are still up for grabs and we'd love to see this crew back together again.
Ocean’s 8 is released into cinemas on Monday (June 18th) and will be available to pre-order on DVD from hmv’s online store in the coming days.
https://www.hmv.com/video/ocean-s-8-reviewZitat:
Ocean's 8 review: heist caper assembles the best gang imaginable, then forgets the plan
3/5
Tim Robey, Film Critic
14 June 2018 • 7:33pm
Dir: Gary Ross. Cast: Sandra Bullock, Cate Blanchett, Anne Hathaway, Mindy Kaling, Sarah Paulson, Awkwafina, Rihanna, Helena Bonham Carter, Richard Armitage, Elliott Gould, 12A cert, 110 mins
Time’s up on all-male heist shenanigans in Ocean’s Eight, which proves that Y chromosomes in a glitzy, star-led ensemble caper are thoroughly surplus to requirements.
What else does the film prove? That Sandra Bullock is just as fit to front an Ocean’s film as George Clooney, if not rather more so? That Anne Hathaway’s comic skills and game self-parody are well worth showcasing in bitchy roles? That Cate Blanchett absolutely rocks in cheetah-print coats and biker leathers?
All of this, handily. It doesn’t prove that Clooney’s Danny Ocean is dead, but it pretends he is, in circumstances unexplained, when his sister Debbie (Bullock) sob-stories her way out of prison at the start.
The point is: she’s our substitute. And her attitude to small- and medium-scale larceny is not quite the same as Danny’s watchful waiting game. Hours after waltzing through the gate of that jail, where she’s spent five years paying a seething penance for art fraud, she’s back in business with some high-end shoplifting.
Speaking of which, how does a $150m diamond necklace sound? Getting this up from Cartier’s vaults requires a tool kit far more unique than just your usual bag of explosives and drills. It needs Anne Hathaway’s neck. She’s an entitled Hollywood diva, Daphne Kluger, whose headline appearance at New York’s Met Gala is the opportunity Debbie has been waiting for.
The key partner in this crime, though, is not the oblivious Daphne, but Debbie’s old associate Lou (Blanchett), a bad-ass club fixer who’s reluctant to her get hands dirty.
And so the gang, in customary fashion, comes together, adding bespoke pieces of the jigsaw one at a time. First they need a once-reputable fashion designer (Helena Bonham Carter, all tragic frizz and Dublin accent) to bag the commission and incorporate the necklace into Daphne’s ensemble. A diamond expert (Mindy Kaling), pickpocket (the rapper Awkwafina), and hacker extraordinaire (Rihanna, not looking energised) are next on the list, and a social planner (Sarah Paulson) has to make certain that Daphne’s seated right where they need her.
The fun of this particular plan, which is at least as promising in the set-up phase as any of its franchise bedfellows, is how alarmingly public it is. They have to get the necklace off of Daphne, while she’s sitting at a table near Katie Holmes (the real one) and every camera in New York is trained their way.
There’s no getting around the fact that the movie peaks in this fleet and enjoyable section, which ought to be a climax but somehow isn’t. After that, a lot of the sure-footed development gets scratched out. There’s a lot of fuss about a magnet that’s needed to remove the necklace... but wait, the security guys later accept it just having fallen off?
Listing further plot holes would only be spoiling the elements that do work. Blanchett gets one delightfully neat and tidy job to perform in a kitchen, partly because there’s no one who wouldn’t believe her as a jet-set nutritionist. Your growing concern, though, is whether writer-director Gary Ross (Seabiscuit, Pleasantville), not quite as wily as a Steven Soderbergh, was really the man for this job – and not just on a gender basis.
It goes without saying that he gets an awful lot of assistance from his cast – milking their moments, and surely spit-balling their way through an average script as often as possible. Bullock’s impressive bond with an audience, giving us dry asides that feel like meta-commentaries, is as much of a boon as ever. Plus, there’s brassy music, by a never-better Daniel Pemberton, which beefs up the David Holmes grooves from the first trilogy, putting a lot of wind in the film’s sails.
More of a minus is James Corden, whose overeager turn as a wise-cracking insurance adjuster could have been a great chance for a more seasoned, preferably less effortful, cameo player.
The whole aftermath is a little duff, a lazy clean-up operation which leaves more loose ends flapping than it ties. Top-tier heist films – from this batch, Ocean’s Eleven is the only one – manage to build and build, outdoing themselves with each new flourish, every daredevil reveal. Ocean’s Eight dresses its cast to kill, jumps off the trapeze with all the usual moves, and then forgets about its encore.
https://www.telegraph.co.uk/films/0/oceans-8-review-heist-caper-assembles-best-gang-imaginable-forgets/Zitat:
Jewelry Heist Movie 'Ocean's 8' Gets Plenty Of Sparkle From A Stellar Cast
26:01
June 7, 20185:00 AM ET
Linda Holmes
Steven Soderbergh's Oceans Eleven was released in December 2001. It arrived early in a long winter in which debates bubbled along over what people wanted from entertainment in the post-Sept. 11 environment. Would they seek out simple diversions? Or something uplifting? Perhaps one of the reasons the film became so beloved is that it was the right movie at the right moment: irresistibly stylish, almost meaninglessly exciting, a heist film about incredibly charismatic men stealing unthinkable amounts of money from the least sympathetic victim imaginable — plus George Clooney winning the girl, too. It was silly, but also ... oh, it was all so dashing.
Ocean's 8 does not benefit from Soderbergh's mischievous, coiled-spring direction. Director/co-writer Gary Ross, who directed The Hunger Games and Seabiscuit (and, not for nothing, is a multiple Oscar nominee), makes softer films with fewer flourishes, notwithstanding a couple of moves that salute — or, if you like, lift from — Soderbergh. The script, which he wrote with Olivia Milch, doesn't have the pop of the best parts of Ocean's Eleven, so it relies heavily on its stellar cast.
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How fortunate it is that the cast is so thoroughly up to the task.
Ocean's 8 revolves around eight terrific women: Sandra Bullock, fully out of the enormously endearing stumbly ingenue mode in which she first became famous; Cate Blanchett, operating without her regal carriage as a glam vision of petty crime; Anne Hathaway, playing the superficial star she was once accused of being (and delivering unto every doubter of her considerable comedic talent a knee in the gut); Mindy Kaling, playing a clever jeweler and doing entirely without the fizzy sparkle that's sustained her onscreen work since The Office; Sarah Paulson, sending up the Hollywood vision of the demure suburban mother; Helena Bonham Carter, somehow both embracing her daffy aesthetic and being utterly outside it; Rihanna, perhaps the current queen of the real Met Gala, here comfortably astride the line between that image of herself and a different one entirely; and Awkwafina, a real-life rapper who will also be appearing in Crazy Rich Asians later this year and who, I suspect, will soon have her own studio comedy film.
The heist plot in Ocean's 8 is much less byzantine than the casino-heist plot in Ocean's Eleven: The women will infiltrate the Met Gala and steal a Cartier diamond necklace so valuable that it's been in a vault for decades. How to get it out? They dupe Daphne Kluger (Hathaway), a hot, seemingly awful young actress who's been tapped as the event's celebrity host, into wearing it, and then they take it right off her neck. The team is led by Debbie Ocean (Bullock) and her BFF (?) Lou (Blanchett), who recruit the rest.
A side note: Why do I say "BFF (?)"? Because Bullock and Blanchett have such frankly hot chemistry in a couple of scenes that it's easy to wonder whether Debbie and Lou either have, or had in the past, what we might gauzily call A Thing. But that's never acknowledged, and to read it into the film raises the uncomfortable problem of Representation That Isn't — of queer characters who are only queer in the minds of others, not in their own actions or words. Either way, the two have either a very sexy friendship or a very sexy more-than-friendship.
Bonham Carter is a fashion designer, Kaling is a jeweler, Paulson is a fence, Rihanna is a hacker (named Nine Ball, with an actual nine-ball tracking ball for her computer, which is very cool), and Awkwafina is a pickpocket. All will play a role, as will an art dealer named Claude (Richard Armitage), whose relationship to the whole thing takes a while to play out.
What adds so many funny grace notes to Ocean's 8 is how much it is about Hollywood, and about actresses, while embracing its status as what we might call an "except with women" movie:
Ghostbusters — except with women.
The Karate Kid — except with a girl.
And now, Ocean's Eleven — except with women. (Honestly, it should be Ocean's Fifteen, given that the wage gap means Debbie can get more women for the same price her brother hired 11 men.) (Just kidding, ha ha!)
Hathaway's performance, in particular, cannot be read without reference to the brutal public treatment she has absorbed in real life over ... being too earnest? Being too happy about winning an Oscar? Back in 2013, this reached the absurd point where a New York Times article concluding that people essentially despised her for no good reason at all was nevertheless titled "What Is Anne Hathaway Doing Wrong?" Anne Hathaway is here, in Ocean's 8, to tell you that you don't know squat about her, that she has heard every mean, nasty, cranky, ungenerous, sexist thing that can be said about her, and her response is ... comedy. Great, fearless, elegant, bright-eyed comedy that dares to ask the question, "I'm not this person — but what if I were? Wouldn't that be hilarious?"
Late in the film, there is a series of cameos that may not stand out to a young slice of the audience, but will be familiar to anyone who has been watching actresses on screen for a long time. And it's when you see those cameos that the full sweep of the film's comment on the Hollywood female image — a comment that's never heavy-handed, but feather-light — lands.
It's no coincidence that there are no boyfriends or husbands of any significance — other than Paulson's, because her adorable family is part of her cover. It's common for entire casts of men to care little about romantic relationships, but less common with casts of women. Are any of them in relationships? Are any of them interested in men? Women? Not during this caper. They're interested in money, just like they would be if they were men.
But at the same time, it's also no coincidence that Ocean's 8 was placed at one of the most famous events there is for the performance of celebrity femininity. The Met Gala is where every stitch of clothing is critiqued, as either too much or not enough. It is where actresses like the fictional Daphne and the real Hathaway go to be devoured for their missteps. But there is a moment, of course, when the plot dictates that we must see most of these actresses in their gala drag. And when you have watched them all play flesh and blood people and then you see them slip into a crowd of uncomfortably dressed stiffs, it invites an intriguing mental reversal. This glamour, this fancypants presentation, this is boring. This is mundane. What is interesting is watching these women work, scheme, crack wise with each other. The way the film manages to drool over the Met and the poshness of everything while still ultimately deflating it as little more than a lovely moment to play dress-up is quite smart.
There is still a very real concern for fashion. In particular, Blanchett's style here — platinum blunt cut, feathery bangs; slim-cut, but often wide-legged suits — it is an entirely different fantasy. It has nothing to do with the brand of femininity that the gala reveres. It is a punk-inflected, angular, indelible look that people will be copying for years. And if you know anything about Rihanna, you know that her look is never less than fully considered. Here, she has a sort of army-jacket chic that's so persuasive that it's almost — almost — possible to believe she could disappear into a crowd. (Although as one of my friends noted just after the film ended, it is perhaps the plot's greatest required suspension of disbelief that one must assume an inconspicuous Rihanna.) And she and Awkwafina are both so, so funny that you'll leave eager to see them closer to the center of the next project.
The shortcomings of the film's style, and in particular the mostly bland direction, will likely dull both reviews of it and reception of it by audiences — particularly given how central style was to Ocean's Eleven. But the charisma of the cast is tremendous, it's still a breezy and adventurous heist movie, and particularly in the performance from Hathaway, it's timely, in its way, just as its predecessor was.
https://www.npr.org/sections/monkeysee/2018/06/07/617478831/jewelry-heist-movie-ocean-s-8-gets-plenty-of-sparkle-from-a-stellar-castZitat:
The 'Ocean's 8' lack of conflict is the most important part of its fantasy
Since its box office–topping release, Ocean’s 8 has delighted some moviegoers and caused others to respond with a not-resounding shrug.
The shruggers point to the film’s lack of conflict as an issue with the story, alluding to the fact that the lady criminals in the movie experience few setbacks in their quest to steal millions of dollars worth of diamonds, and that the setbacks they do encounter are solved easily.
“This movie is boring,” they say, “because there is no tension or concern whether they’ be able to pull off the job.”
Ocean’s 8 is good precisely because there is no doubt in anyone’s mind that this group of women will be able to perform their shiny, elaborate heist. Whatever tension is lost in that surety is replaced with a different, rarer cinematic delight: the joy of knowing that highly competent women will succeed virtually uninterrupted and win their prize at the end of the day.
Do these people know how orgasmic it is to watch a bunch of women complete a task without anyone bothering them? It’s a female-oriented fantasy on par with the acquisition of a $150 million dollar necklace, a wistful “if only” scenario as far fetched as successfully framing one’s bullshit ex for grand larceny.
The heist in Ocean’s 8 is planned over a course of delightful autumn days where Cate Blanchett can wear either a silk bomber jacket or a zippy velvet coat and feel equally comfortable. Sandra Bullock emerges from prison with perfect beach waves and spends her first night as a free woman in a bubble bath surrounded by fancy candles.
Nothing in this movie is about how hard it is to be a woman (or a criminal), and the buttery ease with which the titular 8 scam their way through New York’s most expensive neighborhoods is a direct aspirational parallel to the suit-wearing, cigar-smoking bad boy vibe present in the Ocean’s 11 series from which Ocean’s 8 was spawned.
Women just want to have a day where their skills are applied successfully and nobody gives them shit.
Men want to feel like they are kings of every room they walk into. Women just want to have a day where their skills are applied successfully and nobody gives them shit. The bubble bath is optional.
This theme of competency is compounded when Sandra Bullock as Debbie Ocean comments on the all-women makeup of her chosen crew. “A him gets noticed,” Debbie explains. "A her gets ignored. And for once, we’d like to be ignored.” She weaponizes the virtual invisibility of women at various points in her plan and manipulated the social and racial expectations of her marks.
When Rihanna’s Nine Ball disguises herself as the cleaning staff at a securities firm, no one bothers to question why a black woman with dreadlocks is emptying trash cans even as she plants a listening device to snoop on their meetings. Awkwafina’s Constance blends in with the wait staff at the Met Ball because of and not in spite of her race.
Even in one of the film’s big twists, when it is revealed that Anne Hathaway’s Daphne Kluger has decided to join the crew, she uses the expectation that she is an empty-headed actress to shield her newfound friends from prosecution. These are all women who understand how and why they are slotted into the categories the world places them, and they use that to pull off a flawless crime.
There is no big conflict because the conflict already exists everywhere, at all times, around every woman in the crew, and they bend it to their will instead of letting it stop them from getting what they want.
In John Mulaney’s comedy special New In Town, he jokes that there could never be a female version of Ocean’s 11. “Ocean’s 11 with women would never work because’ two would keep breaking off and start talking shit about the other nine," he says. "Or not even talk shit, just say weird passive aggressive things while they break into the casino.”
To be fair, it’s a much funnier joke in context. But the fact remains that Ocean’s 8 worked precisely because the common depiction of women as catty or incompetent was subverted and transformed into a strength.
Watching eight hotties turn those expectations around, use them to their advantage, and succeed wildly is all some moviegoers – many of them women – need to appreciate the perfect crime.
https://mashable.com/2018/06/14/oceans-8-lack-of-conflict-fantasy/?europe=true#DWNDowDePSqf