Welcome to Collinwood

In this soft-boiled caper, produced by Soderbergh and Clooney (but not a patch on their Ocean's Eleven), Macy, Rockwell and others are the low rent criminal dunderheads engaging in various scrapes and pratfalls as they finesse a 'Bellini', a windfall scoop waiting for the taking, confided via jailed Guzmán. Of course, the original conceit had Guzmán grabbing the swag himself with Rockwell serving as his 'Mullinski' - a fall guy paid to cop to a crime - but in Collinwood, if not in Collinwood, a rusted-up ghetto branded 'the Beirut of Cleveland', the argot runs freely where grand plans strut then stumble. Clooney is wheeled on for a short five minutes as a brusque, handicapped safe-cracking guru, giving the main players an object lesson in declining to mug through the vagaries of the material. For all its bright throwaway gags, the overall effect suggests a second-rate Palookaville. (Based on Mario Monicelli's I Soliti Ignoti.