REEL CRITICS -- Susanne Perez

Of all of the crime capers I’ve seen in 2001 -- “Sexy Beast,” “The

Score,” “Heist,”, Steven Soderbergh’s “Ocean’s Eleven” is the one that’s

out of sight.

Coming off the critical successes of “Traffic” and “Erin Brockovich,”

this is his most stylish film to date and as light as a swizzle stick.

But it delivers quite a kick just the same.

Taking the basic premise of the so-so 1960 comedy about a guy who

rounds up his buddies to pull off a daring heist of Las Vegas’ big

casinos, Soderbergh ups the ante considerably with his film. He assembles

a bevy of big stars, a laid-back but polished script by Ted Griffin, and

a dazzling plot that reveals itself to you only in little bits and

flashbacks (a Soderbergh trademark). He dropped the kitsch in favor of

cool. From the moment I heard the film’s jazzy, funky score, I knew I

would be in for a treat.

I actually saw the original release of “Ocean’s Eleven” (of course, I

was just a baby at the time). Frank, Dean, Sammy, etc., were at the peak

of their Rat Pack hipness; the movie was just a showcase for their

personalities, with the actual heist almost an afterthought. They weren’t

even very good criminals -- nobody got away with the money or the girl.

In this new and improved version, the heist is the dazzling focus --

an impossibly clever, dangerous and convoluted plan to steal $150 million

from the impregnable underground vault of the Bellagio Hotel, owned by

quietly menacing Terry Benedict (Andy Garcia).

George Clooney, in Sinatra’s role as mastermind Danny Ocean, has the

same easy charm as Sinatra and a quick, deadpan delivery. I can’t imagine

anyone else looking so cool leaving prison in a tuxedo. Oozing

confidence, he convinces his crew his scheme will succeed even before

going into details.

And such a crew! Brad Pitt is Rusty, the operations guy, always

snacking but without messing up those nice silk shirts and suits. (The

costume design here is another stunner.)

Basher (Don Cheadle with a Cockney accent) is the demolition expert,

and Matt Damon is light-fingered Linus. Casey Affleck and Scott Caan, the

utility men, are a hoot as brothers who still act like they’re in high

school (“I’m gonna drop you like third-period French!”).

It’s wonderful to see the great Carl Reiner as Saul, an old-school con

man happy to be asked to come out of retirement. Elliott Gould has a

small but memorable role as Reuben (who bankrolls the job). His wardrobe

embodies all that is cheesy and over-the-top in Vegas.

This movie offers many of these actors their juiciest parts in a long,

long time. The comedic timing is on the money, and everyone gets their

turn to shine. Comedian Bernie Mac is terrific -- his in-your-face scene

with Matt Damon is very funny. And if you’re a poker player, you’ll enjoy

watching Brad Pitt try to school some ‘N Sync type boys on the art of the

game.

A nice touch and homage to the original film in the “Fight Night”

scene: the blink-and-you’ll-miss-it cameos by original cast member Henry

Silva and Angie Dickinson, other Rat Pack cronies.

And, of course, there’s Julia Roberts in her best wounded-bird mode.

She doesn’t have much to do as Tess, Danny’s ex-wife and now girlfriend

to Terry (“but she’s too tall for him!” wails Saul). But she does get to

wear fabulous clothes, jewels by Tiffany, and can more than hold her own

against George Clooney.

Months of endless publicity had given me hype anxiety -- surely the

movie couldn’t live up to its press. And even though the sizzle had

fizzled by the end, I was delighted to be proved wrong.

* SUSANNE PEREZ, 45, lives in Costa Mesa and is an executive assistant

for a financial services company.