George Clooney, King of Hollywood

Ocean’s Thirteen ?

Why?

Actually, that’s a dumb question, especially since I already know “why”.

It’s gonna make lots of money, that’s why.

But you understand my confusion, don’t you? I mean, Ocean’s Eleven was a big, lighter-than-air soap bubble of a movie. When the light caught Steven Soderbergh’s mischievous caper the right way, it was like watching a rainbow explode. As your eyes happily widened in delight and you gasped, “Ooohhhh”, it popped quickly out of sight, leaving nothing behind but a smile.

What happened? Uh, something about a robbery, I think. They looked like they were having a great time, too.

So what the hell, let’s do Ocean’s Twelve. More of the same, except less of it.

Which brings us back to:Ocean’s Thirteen. Why not? We can’t stop now, boys! Not as long as they keep giving us checks!

And why should they stop? After all, it isn’t as though George Clooney has been making terrible choices lately. To use a metaphor Danny Ocean would appreciate, Clooney is like the guy in Las Vegas at the poker table with a Mt. Fuji-sized mountain of chips in front of him. And he’s smiling because he knows he’s not finished yet.

Look at how well Syriana worked out for Clooney.

Wow, an Oscar for best supporting actor? Quite a step up from Return of The Killer Tomatoes! , I’d say. Good for him.

I’m glad Clooney won. As my wife would say, He’s a real mensch. Dammit, he’s handsome, successful, intelligent, sexy, generous to his fellow actors, articulate, and a tough, hard-knuckled Liberal With A Capital “L” who isn’t afraid to punch a loudmouth punk like Bill O’Reilly in the mouth. In the Hollywood community, he’s James Bond – without 007’s bad, messy, psychotic habit of killing people, of course.

As the new King of Hollywood, Clooney wears his crown well. And it’s well-deserved, because he made the right choices.

Sure, that’s all. Just like Hank Aaron hit a few home runs. And Einstein was real good at math, too.

As simple as it may sound, it’s not, especially for a former TV star trying to make that hazardous transition to the big screen. A wrong choice can ruin your career. One misstep and-Boom! There’s nothing left of your once-promising career but a smoldering SAG card and shredded underwear. Your obituary is a sordid “E: The True Hollywood Story” episode. And usually there isn’t a second chance. Nope. David Caruso got lucky.

Yeah, accidents happen, but the smart ones know to grab them when they do. Tom Hanks was able to take off the dress he wore in the TV show Bosom Buddies only because Big was a movie nobody else wanted to do.

Men In Black,Bad Boys and Independence Day were cash cows that made Will Smith a major player, but I’d like to see the ex-Fresh Prince of Bel-Air explore once again the heartbreaking poignancy I saw in Six Degrees of Separation. Still, not bad for a guy that used to do Rap, huh?

Bill Murray’s graceful evolution from “the new guy” on SaturdayNight Live to the nuanced thespian who won a Golden Globe Award for Lost In Translation is amazing.

Clint Eastwood? ‘Nuff said.

And so on. Clooney belongs with the rest of those guys because he made intelligent choices-even though, I gotta be honest – it didn’t seem that way in the beginning.

Leaving ER before it got stale? Smart. The Peacemaker and One Fine Day ? Uh, dumb. And then Batman and Robin happened: the awful cinematic train wreck that derailed the careers of Alicia Silverstone, Chris O’Donnell, Arnold Schwarzenegger, and the conductor asleep at the controls, director Joel Schumacher. D’oh!

But Clooney didn’t just survive Batman and Robin, he did better in spite of it. That’s because he followed what I’m officially going to call the “Jeff Daniels Rule”. Don’t worry, I’ll explain.

When Daniels was asked during an interview what dictated the roles he chose, he replied simply, “I do one for them, and then I do one for me.” To translate: movies like Dumb and Dumber fed his family and kept him working. However, an oddball, non-mainstream, done-for-the-love-of-it film like The Squid and The Whale nourished his soul and kept acting fun.

If Daniels could do it, why shouldn’t Clooney?

So, thanks to Batman and Robin, Clooney could afford to take his time and choose his roles carefully. If you’re rich, why do junk? Doing loud movies where you sit in your trailer bored as your stunt double tries not to get killed dodging bullets and explosions wasn’t necessary anymore. Ocean’s Whatever The Hell It Is Now is a fair trade for O Brother, Where Art Thou?, Solaris, Confessions of a Dangerous Mind, Three Kings and Good Night, and Good Luck.

What that means is, a decade or two later, people will still be talking proudly about these movies and say nice things about Clooney while giving him a big, shiny important-sounding bauble.

Yeah, I’m going to pay to see Ocean’s Thirteen. And it’s going to be for the same reason I shut up and sign a check whenever PBS, as usual, suspends its regular programming and starts begging for money again.

Hey, George? Next time, though, how about doing a sequel to Out of Sight?

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