I have cried at two movies in my life. This is one. Just so you know I’m not an easy touch.

In April 1994 the nation of Rwanda descended into madness, wherein half of the population decided to murder the other half. In July 1994 rebel forces managed to defeat the current regime and put an end to the slaughter. In those three to four months somewhere between eight hundred thousand and one million Rwandans (out of a population, near as I can determine from Googling, of about ten million) were murdered. Mostly by machetes. I remember hearing the news reports every day and thinking, This is exaggeration. It has to be exaggeration; whenever you hear about horrible stuff happening overseas, it’s always exaggerated, right?

We didn’t hear or—more importantly for Western sensibilities—see the half of it.

Apparently people who lived there didn’t believe it was going to be that bad either. Paul Rusesabagina, the general manager of a Belgian-airline-owned luxury hotel resort in Kigali, is a man of the world: He’s smooth and efficient, he knows everyone, and he knows how to keep everyone’s back scratched. He gets cartons of Cuban cigars to pass out as grease to businessmen, he keeps scotch on hand for the generals who hang out in his hotel, he keeps a stack of cash on hand to tuck into pockets everywhere to get things done. And he thinks the increasing fear of the Hutu militias is just foolish. Nothing’s going to happen.

He is, of course, very, very wrong.

Rusesabagina was in a position to do something, however: he turned the Hotel des Mille Collines into an impromptu refugee camp, sheltering 1200 Hutus and Tutsis from the insanity outside, mostly by not only sheer force of will and luck, but because of the relationships—and favors—he had built up over the years. At last, at long last, due to Rusesabagina’s relentless working of relationships and directing his “guests” how to do likewise, the refugees are among the lucky ones: they get sprung. They get to become refugees across the border in Tanzania.

Hotel Rwanda manages to pull off the impossible: demonstrating the horror of what was going on with a PG-13 rating. Which means you don’t see the massacres going on (except in one scene, where you see something, off in the distance, on a video monitor). Pretty much everything is implied; the horror is left to you. Believe me, you’ll do quite well on your own. A casual comment like, “Tutsi whores are all witches,” illustrates a world of what’s happened that depicting on screen would simply be pornographic titillation.

The movie is not unrelenting grimness: the depiction of Paul’s relationships, with his family, with his staff, with the UN commander, and with the armies wreaking havoc on his country are beautiful. In the middle of the horror there is a funny love scene between Paul and his wife, in which he confesses that his ability to grease the system extended to her. Don Cheadle is fabulous here: I’d definitely vote for him as Best Actor. He juggles fury, determination, and a calm demeanor beautifully. You understand his frustration when he realizes his whole existence as a slick intermediary for the Belgians means nothing; at the same time, his abilities are what kept a small pocket people alive for months. It’s really bravura stuff, much more impressive than some of the other nominated performances I’ve seen.

I thought the movie did a wonderful job of shorthanding what led up to the Rwandan massacres: the ethnic division between Hutu and Tutsis, which was the legacy of the Belgian colonists; the involvement of the Western powers not only not stopping the massacres but in keeping them going; the easy way that propaganda can incite people to do horrific things.

One element is hinted at but never spelled out for the viewer, though: the reason the word “genocide” was never used by the Western powers. Because according to the UN charter, if there is genocide, UN signatories are obligated to intervene.

I didn’t particularly want to see this movie: you know, genocide. But since it came down to this versus Million Dollar Baby, we went to this one. I’m sorry I waited so long. I highly recommend it.

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Good thing we’ll never see anything like the Rwanda genocide again.

At 20 minutes in, I leaned over to Darin and told him I was considering heading to the Barnes and Noble and I’d see him later. He told me to wait.

Wish I’d gone to the bookstore.

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At the credits rolled:

He: So, you didn’t like it.

She: I’m trying to think of an axis on which I didn’t hate it. Well, no: hate is too strong.

He: Okay, okay, I get it. You didn’t like it.

She: You did?

He: I liked everything about it. Except for story and character, since it didn’t have those.

She: You liked the cinematography?

He: Loved it.

She: Did we just see two completely different movies?

He: I enjoyed the offbeat pace. I like the quirky setups, the weird stuff going on. You didn’t like the flat lighting and the unusual look everything had?

She: Um, no.

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So, there you have it: proof positive I’m married to an idiot. Okay, not really. But I seriously wanted to walk out of what I felt like an overly long, self-consciously weird movie that had a grating artistic style and no fucking redeeming characteristics to make up for it. Darin, obviously, felt differently. So, you know: if you enjoy big budget Hollywood movies that appear to have been made by a bunch of college kids with their first 8mm, go for it.

Me, I’m off to the bookstore.

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Wow. Usually I agree with Mary Ann, but this time I wish I’d gotten to see the cut of the movie she did. “This is a movie to watch a million times and never tire of.” Heh. Yup, we definitely disagree.

The short version is: terrible, but hilarious.

As I said to Darin in the car last night, “In two days I’m not going to be able to tell you anything about the plot of this movie.” And here it is, the morning, and I realize that I was way, way optimistic with the whole “two days” thing. The gang from Ocean’s 11 reunites to do another job, because Andy Garcia, the guy they ripped off from the first movie is really, really angry at them and wants them to give back the money they stole. “But your insurance paid for it!” is repeated a couple of times.

The gang ends up in Europe—first Amsterdam, then Paris, then Rome—pulling off fantastic heists and competing with another thief who goes by the handle the Night Fox. (Had to ask Darin what the name was. I’d already forgotten it.) The Night Fox dares them to steal a really well-protected treasure; if they succeed, he’ll pay off their debts, and if he succeeds, they have to admit he’s the best thief. Also, they have to go to jail.

Danny Ocean takes the bet. Much hilarity ensues.

Funniest line: “We can’t train a cat that fast.”

Most entertaining person in the movie: I am totally a Matt Damon fan now, and I cannot believe that I even typed those words. But he’s been so good in everything I’ve ever seen him in, and this is no exception. So, yeah, having Matt Damon in a movie is a total plus for me. Just in case you’re casting or anything.

Most disappointing person in the movie: What was Don Cheadle doing in this movie? I don’t mean, Why did he sign up for this movie even though they had nothing for him to do, because if that were the criteria, at least 9 of the 12 shouldn’t have signed on. No, I mean, “What is that verkakete accent?” Oy. Dude. Stop it already.

There was one aspect of this movie that Darin found, in his word, “odious.” It has to do with the big surprise in this film, so if you don’t know what that is or want to know, don’t read this next bit:

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The fawning attention to celebrities throughout the movie really, really annoyed Darin. And since the entire point of a movie like Ocean’s 12 is to watch celebrities, the movie is falling all over itself to say, Aren’t we special?

The major heist toward the end of the movie relies on the whole celebrity thing to an obnoxious degree. Since most of the gang ends up in jail, the remaining members have to come up with a new plan to steal the treasure. And since Danny Ocean’s wife is almost a dead ringer for Julia Roberts—

No, really. That’s the plan. Julia Roberts’ character imitates Julia Roberts. Of course, the first person she runs into in the Rome hotel she’s staying in is Bruce Willis, who decides to hang out with his old friend and attend the art exhibit with her.

So, we have movie stars playing regular people and movie stars playing movie stars, and somehow we’re not supposed to notice they’re all frickin’ movie stars or something.

Personally, it was clear to me that they got to that part in the script and said, “Well, how the fuck are they supposed to get into the museum?” and someone else said, “Well, how about if…” And after the fifteenth margarita that idea sounded hilarious.

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I’m not sure I can recommend this movie to anyone, especially if you haven’t seen or didn’t like Ocean’s 11. Ocean’s 12 is definitely not a good movie. But there are some quite hilarious bits in it, and I had a good time.