One word: efficient. Ocean’s 8 is a systematic cog within its mechanical heist. From the offset, you know exactly how the robbery will play out and whether they get arrested or not. If you’ve experienced Soderbergh’s trilogy of male-orientated crime shenanigans, then you know what to expect. Brought in as executive producer, it rarely strays away from his sophisticated formula. And that’s absolutely fine. Sometimes, we all need light-hearted escapades in our life that doesn’t involve suicide, rape or unintentional incest. Ocean’s 8 remains as fun as I remembered it.
A fantastic cast that is unfortunately unevenly balanced, with Rihanna, Awkwafina, and Kaling unable to make an impression against the formidable Bullock, Blanchett, and Hathaway. But at least Paulson and Carter were better utilised with impassioned character acting, particularly from the latter. I still despise the fact that the heist itself was seamless with limited issues arising, and that the third act took the narrative momentum and performed an emergency brake.
I blame Corden, his involvement was just infuriating and a case of exploiting a “look at me! I’m in a film!” moment. But, at the end of this fashionable Met Gala equipped with glistening diamonds and cameos galore, the film remains fun. Smart, sophisticated and sexy as hell! Where’s my ‘Ocean’s 9’ with Academy Award-nominated Lady Gaga? Make it happen.