Stephanie and I spent Saturday night enjoying the company of Tinseltown’s finest celebrities, which is to say we watched Ocean’s Twelve. We avoided the reviews prior to the movie, but the impression I got from headlines was that this sequel was not well-liked by critics. It worked for me. No, the caper doesn’t top the one in Eleven, but they raise the stakes in other ways, and except for a couple of heist devices that strain credibility even in the Ocean universe, it mostly works. It has a thrown-together feel that makes it work as a casual good time, and it’s a fun little movie that doesn’t demand too much of you but doesn’t insult you too much either.
Not to bury the lead, but as if Clooney, Pitt, and Damon up on the screen weren’t enough, we shared the theater (and the lengthy ticket-holder line beforehand) with none other than Andy from The Apprentice, the Harvard grad with no real job experience who held his own as one of the more likable and capable candidates until he led a misguided design effort for an ugly Pepsi Edge bottle and was shouted out of the boardroom by Sandy once Jenn strategically spilled the beans that Andy had secretly conferred with her to put the blame on Sandy. I didn’t realize Andy lived in LA. He’s going to have to fly back to New York next week for the live finale.
Now, I’m not easily star-struck. Okay, I am. A pseudo-celebrity, right there in our own movie line! I really wanted to talk to him. “Hey, Andy, too bad about getting fired. I was rooting for you, but seriously, man, that was a really shitty Pepsi bottle. Jenn totally played you, man. She sold you out and made it look like a slip-up because she knew the Sandy thing wasn’t working and it would take the heat off her. And admit it, you were kind of conspiring against Sandy, and you said some stuff that wasn’t true, and that wasn’t cool. But Sandy didn’t out-debate you, she was just yelling, and that wasn’t a good reason to be fired. You deserved to get fired for the bottle, and not giving the designers their pizza, not for Sandy’s yelling. Still, way to hold your ground on the NYPD commercial task.”
To Stephanie’s relief, I only said these things to her. Though I think she was constantly worried I was saying them too loud and Andy might hear. She was glad when I stopped. Although, really, I think if you can talk to any celebrity without them getting annoyed, you’d think it would be a reality TV “star,” who loves attention and still enjoys getting it, since in a few months they’ll be forgotten.
We were way back in the movie line, but we were ahead of Andy. Too bad Trump didn’t give you any tips on how to get to a movie early, huh, Andy? To be fair, the line was outrageous. We chose seats that were a good distance from the screen, but on the side of the theater. Andy and his friends got seats in the middle, but a bit too close to the screen for my taste. Who got the better seats in the end? It’s a toss-up. Who’s more famous? Andy. Who gets to pass judgement on Andy’s decisions and behavior? Me.