2/24/2005 10:50:00 PM|||Britt|||If you are a famous Hollywood movie director and you sign on to a project that is filled with some of Hollywood's biggest actors, you should be held accountable for your actions. If I were Steven Soderbergh, I would expect to pay a fine for directing such an utter piece of shit as Ocean's Twelve.

Now, let me explain. I never planned on seeing this movie. Sure, I might have rented it if I had been in the video store and the baby was crying and the cell phone was ringing (silly me, I don't have a cell phone), and my blood sugar was low. I wanted to get out of the house.

There is a cheap movie theater in a renovated middle school one block from my house. Really, there is, and you can buy pizza, wine, and beer while you watch a movie sitting on a couch in what was once the school's auditorium. Really. This is Portland.

Fortunately, I drank a glass of wine before walking over to the school to see the movie, because the one glass of wine and slice of pizza lasted me less than half of the movie, which forced me into watching the rest of it.

It's not that the movie was that bad. Bad movies usually go somewhere. This movie didn't go anywhere. It's like sitting in an airplane on the runway waiting for the plane to take off, but the plane can't because the air traffic controller just freaked out and nobody can move.

The movie comes down to this: Julie Roberts plays someone who ends up playing herself. The camera work is annoying, the music grating, the story bland, and the titles sucked too. Everybody involved in this project knew they just had to give a minimum amount of effort and hope that seventy-five percent of the people who liked Ocean's Eleven would show up at the ticket counter so they could make a little profit and walk away.

The Academy should take ten or fifteen minutes to explain why so many crap movies end up on the screen.|||110931512496738868|||Please, no thirteen