In theaters

“Ocean’s Eleven” Directed by Steven Soderberg. Written by Ted Griffin. 116 minutes. Rated PG-13.

In a few short years, director Steven Soderbergh has become his generation’s Robert Altman – it seems everyone in Hollywood wants to work with him.

And who can blame them? After delivering a string of successful films, from “Erin Brockovich,” “Traffic” and “The Limey” to “Out of Sight,” “sex, lies and videotape” and “Kafka,” the director’s importance and appeal in an industry desperate for real talent such as his are at an all-time high.

It’s surprising, then, that his much-ballyhooed remake of Lewis Milestone’s 1960 Rat Pack caper, “Ocean’s Eleven,” isn’t better than it is.

All the elements for a success are here – an A-list cast, a strong writer and, naturally, the Academy Award-winning Soderbergh. But as this uneven film proves, promising parts of anything don’t always gel into an enjoyable whole.

Working from a script by Ted Griffin, Soderbergh takes the original movie, which starred Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Sammy Davis Jr. and others joining forces to rob five Vegas casinos, and downsizes the heist to three casinos – the MGM Grand, the Bellagio and the Mirage.

For Danny Ocean (George Clooney) and his slick team of thieves (Brad Pitt, Don Cheadle, Matt Damon, Elliott Gould and Carl Reiner among them), the job at hand is massive and daring, a heist that will net each person a piece of a $160 million pot.

Ocean’s motivation isn’t just the money; he wants to win back his ex-wife, Tess (Julia Roberts), a pretty woman with a grumpy demeanor who’s currently fondling the tie and cufflinks of the casinos’ sleazy owner, Terry Benedict (Andy Garcia).

What ensues is sometimes lively and fun, particularly in the interplay between Clooney and Pitt, but a great deal of the film is so self-indulgent, it feels as if it’s trying to manufacture an aura of cool, which is impossible. You either have it or you don’t.

Milestone’s version, while hardly a great film, featured a notoriously wild group of entertainers making a movie during the day while entertaining at their hip Vegas shows during the night. Every one of them looks hung over, but they also look as if they’re having the time of their lives, which gives the film a lift and its relaxed charm.

Soderbergh’s film amasses a respected group of actors who are beautifully lit but not nearly as loose; they seem reluctant to even smile, as if that alone suggests uncoolness. With such an enormous cast, few are given the opportunity to leave a lasting impression, but none more so than Roberts, who doesn’t appear until the film’s second hour, and who barely registers even then.

Grade: C+

On video and DVD

(Tuesday, Dec. 11)

“The Score” Directed by Frank Oz. Written by Kario Salem, Lem Dobbs and Scott Marshall Smith. 124 minutes. R.

The moment Marlon Brando makes his entrance in Frank Oz’s “The Score,” the movie wraps itself around him like a bear hug and you sense you’re in for something special.

With his identity concealed beneath a hat almost as large as he is, Brando initially could be mistaken for Orson Welles in “Touch of Evil.” But then you notice the familiar lightness of step, the unmistakable charisma, and before Brando turns to reveal himself to the camera, you know he still has it. You know he’s still great.

Brando was paid $3 million for his appearance in “The Score,” and by my estimation, that comes down to about $150,000 per minute. Hardly cheap, but he’s worth every penny. As Max, the slightly effeminate, scrappy fence who tempts Nick Wells (Robert De Niro) with a score so rich, it will allow each man to retire from fruitful lives of crime, Brando is a marvel, a master actor who took this role to have fun and it shows.

At 77, his age and his size have slowed him down, but he’s consistently the most appealing actor on screen. Considering that “The Score” also stars Edward Norton as Wells’ accomplice and Angela Bassett as Wells’ girlfriend, that’s saying plenty.

As terrific as its cast is, they’re not enough to save “The Score” from being too long. After a slick opening that’s lifted by the witty interplay between its characters, the film mirror’s “Ocean’s Eleven” in that it drowns in the anatomy of its crime. Twenty-five minutes could have been cut from its plodding midsection, but Oz, who previously has only directed comedies (“Dirty Rotten Scoundrels,” “In & Out”), bores us with too many blueprints, photographs, computerized hoo-ha and the like.

Still, audiences should stick with it. Eventually, the film digs in to deliver a gripping final act, one that scores big with a few genuine twists.

Grade: B

Christopher Smith is the Bangor Daily News film critic. His reviews appear Mondays and Fridays in Style, Tuesdays on “NEWS CENTER at 5” and Thursdays on “NEWS CENTER at 5:30” on WLBZ-2 and WCSH-6. He can be reached at BDNFilm1@aol.com.