I've always been on and off and in between about Steven Soderbergh, loving a few of his films (The Limey) while put off by the commercialism of some (Oceans Twelve) and the artsy doodling of others (Full Frontal). It's hard to get a handle on him, but Aaron Baker not only convinced me to take another look, but also showed me what to look for. Across an unusually diverse body of work, Baker argues in his well-reasoned study Steven Soderbergh (published by University of Illinois Press), the director has explored political repression, alienation, economic injustice and personal responsibility, "using a combination of realism and expressive stylization of character subjectivity." As much as any filmmaker, he brought an indie aesthetic into the mainstream without pandering to the common denominator of stupid.
Soderbergh's career floundered for several years after the unprecedented success of his indie breakthrough, Sex, Lies, and Videotape, which set unrealistic expectations for small budget, left field productions. He was able nonetheless to rise in Hollywood and maintain his integrity, not by helming blockbusters to finance more personal films but by synthesizing Hollywood genres with European art house, playing with narrative and time while telling stories that struck a chord. And then, in between big projects, he would slip in a handheld digital jaunt such as The Girlfriend Experience.
Oceans Twelve, Baker more or less concedes, was a low point, but not Oceans Eleven or Thirteen, which packaged a subversive message in a glossy, star-shine Hollywood wrapper. The Oceans series was really about pitting camaraderie and creativity against dehumanizing profit-driven institutions. Oceans was the revenge of the plucky have-nots against the callous havesa Robin Hood tale for postmodern times. And Oceans carried on themes already preoccupying Soderbergh in Sex, Lies, and Videotape, including social connection and responsibility versus the perniciousness of self-interest.
Along with remaking earlier films (Oceans Eleven, Solaris), Soderbergh packs his movies with allusions to the history of cinema. But unlike his contemporary, Quentin Tarantino, Soderbergh actually has something to say beside, "Hey! Look at all the cool movies I've watched!" As Baker points out, in his ambitions Soderbergh is a worthy successor to such great American filmmakers of the early '70s as Martin Scorsese, Francis Ford Coppola and Robert Altman, who brought the perspective of European and Japanese auteurs to the Hollywood narrative tradition.
