LOGAN LUCKY—OCEAN’S 7-ELEVEN

LOGAN LUCKY—OCEAN’S 7-ELEVEN
Don’t ask me to explain the details of Steven Soderbergh’s latest heist film, Logan Lucky, because I can’t—but that doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy this Southern fried Ocean’s 7-Eleven to the fullest. I can’t take credit for that clever quip referencing the film director’s prior forays into classic heist film territory. It is a throwaway line used by a TV anchor reporting on the heist of the huge cash take at the Charlotte Motor Speedway in North Carolina during the running of NASCAR’s Coca-Cola 600. 

Logan Lucky has a wide variety of clever ingredients and set pieces, which put a big smile on my face as one part after another clicked into place—despite being a fuzzy on the details. While all of this is straight by the numbers from Soderbergh’s usual bag of trick, there is enough poignancy floated on a gentle sense of humor to have you leaving the theater feeling upbeat and pleased with the experience.

Channing Tatum and Adam Driver never push their working class characters into parody. Driver’s prosthetic arm—the original lost in Iraq—even becomes a center piece, a brilliant bit of misdirection to cover a raft of plot holes. With Tatum and Driver consciously underplaying their parts, Daniel Craig—as the blond, buzz-cut, tattooed, Joe Bang—lets loose without fear of turning the film into an episode of The Dukes of Hazzard or the slapstick comedy of Talladega Nights. 

Special kudos are due to Farrah Mackenzie playing Channing Tatum’s young daughter—who tugs at your heartstrings at the perfect moment. Also to Hillary Swank, who puts in a late appearance as a tightly wound FBI agent who gets to put the twist in the film’s tail.

As in many of his films, Soderbergh doesn’t allow his stars to disappear into their characters. Instead, you are acutely aware of the actors you are watching (while also being aware of each Soderbergh touch as it appeared on the check list), but the effect somehow makes the film stronger. The professional acting chops on the screen avoid deteriorating into scenery chewing because the script keeps everything twisting and turning. None of it is supposed to be taken seriously, but there is a serious attempt not to play down to the audience, or to allow Southern stereo-types to be treated with contempt. While you never get to completely suspend your disbelief, the sum of the parts is a ridiculous fun and quirky ride fueled by Moon Pies and RC Cola.