AWASH IN FASHION
‘Ocean’s 8’ drowning in bling, product plugs
Wall to wall fashion, this new, allfemale “Ocean’s 8” (also spelled with an “Eight”) arrives on the wave of the #MeToo and #TimesUp movements and proves mostly that women can be in big-budget studio films as empty and devoid of anything except flash, fluff and venality as their male counterparts.
The women in “Ocean’s 8” might as well be wearing spandex and capes, instead of designer schmattas. The movie is also as close to one of those super-materialistic “Sex and City” films as you can get, albeit with a better cast and fewer men, those being, for the most part, an underdeveloped villain (Richard Armitage of those “Hobbit” movies), the heroine’s unseen, late (?) brother Danny Ocean (George Clooney) of the “Ocean’s Eleven” films and a pair of bungling security guards. In nicely done opening scenes, Debbie Ocean (Sandra Bullock), Danny’s little sister, is released from prison after five years and change to go on an amusing shoplifting spree at Bergdorf Goodman.
For five years, Debbie has been plotting to steal — with the help of several other women compatriots — a 6-pound “big, blingy, Liz Taylor ” diamond necklace by Tiffany known as the Toussaint from the Metropolitan Museum of Art, where it is kept in a vault 50 feet underground. The necklace is seeing the light of day to grace the neck and “ample bosom” of only slightly exaggerated celebrity superstar Daphne Kluger (a fun Anne Hathaway). Debbie will pull off the heist with the aid of her fellow thieves Lou (an underused Cate Blanchett), jewelry maker Amita (Mindy Kaling), suburban hausfrau/ truck hijacker Tammy (Sarah Paulson), street hustler Constance (Awkwafina), computer hacker Nine Ball aka Leslie (Rihanna) and fashion designer Rose Weil (Helena Bonham-Carter).
The screenplay by director Gary Ross (“The Hunger Games”) and Olivia Milch (“Dude”) creates a synergy between their heist-caper movie and that event that happens on the first Monday in May, the Met Gala, which will also showcase the crown jewels of the royal houses of Europe. I could make the case that the current release “The Gospel According to Andre” is a better film through which to see the Met ball, and I just did.
To say that Bullock and Blanchett, who look fabulous, if also airbrushed, do not break a sweat in all of this flash and whizbang, signifying nothing, may be a waste of time. But the entire film is something of a front for the worship of celebrity, wealth and brand names and for a hundred product plugs for the likes of Tiffany, Veuve Clicquot and Toyota. I was happy to see scenes of a fashion show shot at the restored and preserved Eero Saarinen-designed TWA Terminal at JFK Airport, but it’s more eye candy and ditto for the Met’s Temple of Dendur. “Ocean’s 8” is so jam-packed with sexy, deluxe-brand stuff, it’s like the Oscar gift bag of films.
The necklace is a complete McGuffin, as is arguably the entire film, which also features Hollywood’s favorite dumb new toy, the 3-D printer. How can you not love a film bursting with so much fabulosity? Watch me.