Grade: B+

Verdict: One of those sit-back, relax and enjoy-it movies. You will.

Details: Starring George Clooney, Brad Pitt, Matt Damon and Julia Roberts. Directed by Steven Soderbergh. Rated PG-13 for language and larceny. One hour, 56 minutes.

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Review: Hollywood used to know how to make movies like this all the time. Thank goodness Steven Soderbergh still does.

“Ocean's Eleven” is a champagne cocktail of a flick — fizzy, fun and full of star sparkle. In other words, it's slick and easy and has no redeeming social value whatsoever.

The only movie lovers who won't enjoy this crime caper are those still awaiting Jean-Luc Godard's comeback film (apologies to Godard, but I bet he'd agree).

“Ocean's Eleven” — kind of, sort of, but not really like the 1960 Rat Pack picture of the same name — has only plot (a huge robbery) and setting (Las Vegas) in common with it. The original featured Frank 'n' Dean 'n' and Sammy 'n' Peter Lawford 'n' assorted hangers-on (Joey Bishop, anyone?) goofing around onscreen as we always imagined they did off-screen. They did the same thing with several other movies — “Sergeants Three” and “Robin and the Seven Hoods,”to name a couple.

The new star ensemble doesn't hang around together off-camera, but their movie still has that pleasing invited-to-the-party feeling.

Danny Ocean (George Clooney) is a dapper thief — so dapper he was arrested in a tux — who's just been sprung from prison. He's can't resist trying to beat the house, so he schemes to pull off the biggest heist Vegas has ever seen: $163 million and change lifted from three major casinos.

He hooks up with his old pal Rusty (Brad Pitt) and the rest of the team, everyone from Don Cheadle and Matt Damon to Carl Reiner and Elliot Gould.

But Danny has another agenda. The casinos in question are owned by Terry Benedict (Andy Garcia) who just so happens to be dating Rusty's ex-wife, Tess (Julia Roberts).

With an Oscar for “Traffic”in his pocket and a nomination for “Erin Brockovich,” you'd think Soderbergh would coast with piffle like this. Not really. “Ocean's Eleven” is as solidly crafted as anything the director's ever done, but it's in an entirely different mode.

The movie's one flaw: It lacks personailty. Like the heist itself, it's a professional job all the way.

Clooney sets the flick's breezy, confident tone. His chameleon-like chemistry with his co-stars is amazing. You'll think, “Gee, I wish he and Julia would make a movie together . . . gee, I wish he and Brad would make a movie together . . . gee, I wish he and Matt . . . 

Still, “Ocean's Eleven” is far from a one-man show. The cast is good, top to bottom: Pitt as Clooney's insouciant, cooler-headed lieutenant; Cheadle as the laid-back explosives expert; Damon as the kid with possiblities; Bernie Mac as the inside man.

And then we have Gould and Reiner. Gould is the essence of Vegas crassness, from the gold chains around his neck to the framed Time magazine cover in his living room. If Reiner had a few more scenes, he might be an Oscar longshot for a best supporting actor nod. He embodies an older generation of con artists facing their own mortality.

And Roberts? She's perfect as The Girl, a part she's dodged most of her career. Here, she knows her place and plunges right in (though she's still part of the joke; watch the ending credits for proof).

“Ocean's Eleven” is one of those don't-worry-be-happy movies. It does all the work for you. And it has a blast doing so. Go, and have a good time.

— Eleanor Ringel Gillespie, Cox News Service