Ocean's Eleven

  • Cool
  • GQ Cool
  • So Cool That Brad Pitt Can't Get a Chick


Directed by Kafka
"What's the matter, can't work up an Indignant Tirade, Miss Brockovich? C'mon, show me a little of that push up bra, honey. Or maybe you'd like it if rode around on a Harley and played Go Fish with the kids. Would that turn you on?"

A Time Capsule of Cool

Brad Pitt is a product of my current residence of Springfield, Missouri. A few weeks ago he and Jen, as we now call her in these parts, came back for the weekend. They went to see his nephew play basketball at the Y, and they had a family night out at a restaurant at which my friend bartends. "So there you are," he says, "stuck in a bar in a vapid conversation with some anorexic Julia Roberts wannabe, while the real thing is sitting there with his arm around Jennifer Anisten. How does that make you feel about your life?"

That sums up how I feel about Ocean's Eleven, the cinematic Gentleman's Quarterly. I don't give a damn how stylish all this is, how we're supposed to fork over our hard-earned cash to watch a bunch of movie stars "have fun." I don't give a damn about how Clooney and Soderbergh prove how cool they are be undermining the racism and destructive alcoholism of the original. I don't give a damn that this is supposed to be some sort of document of style, a celluloid time capsule waiting to be buried and dug up by future movie stars to study their forefather's sense of fashion and attitude. I don't give a damn about "high grade entertainment," or whatever the hell critics keep calling this crap.

Listen, I really like Brad Pitt. I know that many critics consider him the acting equivalent of GQ: all cover but nothing filling the pages. Screw that. Brad takes some challenging roles to go with his fluff, and he's always good for a laugh. Really, someone else care to take the ass-beating Brad's absorbed in his last few movies? Hey, Tom Cruise, if you had the guts to bruise and bloody your pretty face like Brad Pitt, you could very well have won an Oscar for Vanilla Sky. But you didn't. And I'll also bet Tom wouldn't drag Penelope to see his nephew play basketball in a place like Springfield, Missouri. That's what I like about Brad: not only does he take some pretty dark roles, he's unselfconscious. C'mon, I know he's been on "Friends" and "Jackass," but he was also Tyler Durden and in Se7en and Twelve Monkeys.

So Ocean's Eleven is a movie so cool that Brad Pitt is the loser best friend. Screw that—it's insincere. I don't give a damn how stylish this is, Steven Soderbergh is wasting his talent making fluff this inconsequential. Fine, he and George are using it to bankroll their art projects—that's fine. But don't purport that your movie is so cool that Brad Pitt goes scoreless. Screw you, Soderbergh. Like Sean Penn told James Lipton about entertainment vehicles, "As a filmmaker, you should always give a piece of yourself back to the audience. If you want entertainment, get yourself a speedball and a couple of hookers." Then again, Sean's been on "Friends" too. Damn.

The Pitch:
1 Frank Sinatra
1 Donald Trump
2 Ocean's Eleven
See It For:

Matt and George late picking up Ben from rehab.