Short Takes
This week in theaters
OCEAN’S THIRTEEN Steven Soderbergh’s latest refurbishing of Frank Sinatra’s Rat Pack Vegas caper, the essence of curdled ring-a-ding-ding, is the surest bet in showbiz: it banks on a smug gaggle of mega movie stars in boss threads ostentatiously having fun, pretending to steal the house’s money while actually taking yours. See it if you must, but don’t forget to pack the Air Wick—these breezy doings are mustier than a Glitter Gulch casino at 4 a.m. The party opens with Rusty Ryan (Brad Pitt) summoned to meet Danny Ocean (George Clooney) on a private plane to Vegas. The gang’s guru-cum-mascot Reuben Tishkoff (Elliott Gould) is in the hospital recovering from a coronary precipitated by the double-dealing treachery of his erstwhile partner, another venerable Vegas operator with the colorful moniker Willie Bank (Al Pacino). The plan is to avenge Reuben by preventing Willie’s new super-duper deluxe hotel, the Bank, from getting a Five-Diamond rating while rigging the slots, dice, cards and roulette wheels to drive the establishment into bankruptcy on opening night. The logistics of this scheme are often tedious—predicated as they are on the substitution of bonhomie for suspense. How many times can Soderbergh and Clooney pull off this same stunt? —J. Hoberman (Opens Friday)
SURF’S UP Penguins, those cash cows with flippers, rise again—this time as yellow-tufted surfer dudes riding the waves of life off the coast of an island that looks like a cross between Hawaii and Venice Beach. If you have to see another penguin blockbuster, you could do worse than this loose-limbed charmer written by, oh, a lot of jokesters and directed by a scant two, Ash Brannon and Chris Buck. The gimmick is a reality-TV premise—just how knowingly ironic do we want our kids to be before they even hit their tweens?—but don’t expect much fresh by way of plot, which is almost identical to that of Cars and every bit as pregnant with wholesome messaging. Shia LaBeouf voices Cody, a cocky but insecure Rockhopper penguin who bonds with a washed-up old champion surfer (a delightful Jeff Bridges) to train for a big surf-off, during which, it goes without saying, both learn to redefine the meaning of winning. As always, the energy comes from a manic supporting cast, of whom the funniest hands-down is James Woods’ Don King-like surf promoter. Surf’s Up is copycat movie-making at its smoothest; its one imaginative innovation—billowing, silky, utterly sexy waves—is technical. —Ella Taylor (Opens Friday)
ZOO In 2005, a Seattle man was anonymously delivered to the Enumclaw Community Hospital and died shortly thereafter. The cause of the death was an internal puncture wound inflicted during anal sex with an Arabian stallion. An investigation led to the discovery of a farm where a community of zoophiles, organized through the Internet, had been gathering for rounds of barnyard lovin’. Now this is all very nasty, but I ask: if a huge horse with a gigantic boner is placed in front of a happy human butthole and starts banging away, can we really say there was cruelty involved? Kinkiness, yes. Craziness, perhaps. Flexibility, for sure. As for whether or not the tumescent stallion consented to the act, we can debate but will never definitively know. I can’t believe I’m thinking about this stuff, but weirdly grateful to Zoo for going there. The beautiful and beguiling new film by Robinson Devor meditates on the Enumclaw Horse Incident through a hypnotic blend of original reporting, staged reenactment, testimony of involved parties (both zoophiles and local law enforcement) and pervasive, somewhat precious lyricism. The picture’s sympathy is rooted in a belief that all human experience is of interest, no matter how extreme or transgressive. —Nathan Lee (Opens Friday at the Belcourt)
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