CLOONEY and friends reunite to form what should have been called Ocean's Hollywood Allstars.

With George, Brad and Matt backed up by Zeta-Jones and Julia Roberts, there's a threat that Andy Garcia and Bernie Mac will be left on the bench. And then there are the cameos...

Director Steven Soderbergh returns with another casually stylish heist yarn to match his Ocean's Eleven.

Casino owner Terry (Garcia), stung for $161m in the previous film, manages to catch up with the gang now spread around the US blowing his cash.

He wants the dough back, with interest - or else. So Danny Ocean (Clooney) leads the firm to Europe, where they plot to nab a Faberge egg. Zeta-Jones is on their backs as an Interpol cop, who is also dallying with Pitt, while a French thief (Vincent Cassell) plays the baddie.

Cutting a relaxed but macho edge, Ocean's Twelve is full of big names, and don't they know it. At times the cosy camaraderie feels like they're not just having a laugh - they're laughing at us.

The film lacks the clear set-up of big heist and big con that drove the first. Its time-travelling narrative can confuse, and the sub-plots also blur the energy of Clooney and the gang. The script also lacks the clarity of the first, hanging flat in places.

But they're still great to watch. Pitt's Rusty is charming, Damon's slapstick well-placed. The whole crew ooze gloss and cash, and that's what the stars do, right?

Rather than repeating himself, Soderbergh has given Twelve a rougher, more dated look that makes Clooney and Co so cool they threaten to freeze this Ocean solid.

Mono rating: six out of ten.

Paul Platt