Okay, so I was in a festive, holiday mood after seeing Ocean’s 12 over a week ago, and had this BRILLIANT idea of writing a review using the Twelve Days of Christmas as a theme. See, there are twelve people involved, and twelve days. Easy, right? No. Complete writer’s block. How the heck could I work in eight maids a-milking or ten lords a-leaping into a comedic heist flick?

	I will steal the ring, though I do not know the way.

In reality, the only movie I’ve been focused on the past week was one released a year ago, Lord of the Rings: Return of the King. The four-disc extended DVD came out December 14, and I’ve been absorbed in the extended version, the documentaries and the commentaries ever since, and I’m still not finished. I’ve got the movie on my brain, and that’s how I can come at Ocean’s 12. I apologize to Peter Jackson in advance.

The year 2001 brought us the hip Ocean's Eleven, featuring a fellowship brought together to for the betterment of mankind. Okay, that’s a lie. They’re out to steal stuff and prevent Sauron, a.k.a. casino owner Andy Garcia (whom they ripped off last time), from killing them and using their "treasure" for nefarious reasons. He gives the guys two weeks to repay his money, with interest, which also provides a way to advance the plot with a daily timeline.

	Oh sure, draw out Andy Garcia's armies, empty his vaults, gather our full strength and march on the Italian villa. Blah. Blah. Blah.

George Clooney, the man who would be the Thief King, remains the foundation of the movie and the group, much to the consternation of many of the other ten, which is a reminder that, like ROTK, Twelve is an ensemble piece. The latter, though, barely depends on the audience. There’s no legendary epic novel to honor (or desecrate, depending on your opinion of Jackson’s work). Clooney and his bunch are all obviously having so much fun that I'm sure that if this movie was never released the cast and crew wouldn't mind. Happy fun playtime was a romp through Middle-Europe, over mountains, down rivers and past monuments to great civilizations of time past.

	I'm telling y'all, the eagles could not have just flown up to Mt. Doom and dropped the ring in! The Nazgul would stop them!

Trailing the fellowship in his own nefarious plan to get the treasure is the creepy Nightfox, a master criminal who is French, which pretty much makes him the most unlikable antagonist in a decade. Partly because of him, just as Gandalf "died," Baromir fell and the Hobbits were kidnapped, our twelve heroes are a lot less successful this time around and have to work harder to win the prize.

Julia Roberts, who is now Clooney's wife, Tess, and now the twelfth member of the club, looks very Plain Jane for most of the movie. This leaves newbie Catherine Zeta-Jones to be the strong, sharp, smug and unBEElievably sexy kitten of the flick, prettier than any elf maiden could dream. But looking "normal" does allow for Julia to shine later as she plays, well, Julia Roberts, even using her pregnancy. I know, right now that makes about as much sense as naming newborn twins Phinnaeus and Hazel, but it works wonderfully.

	"If I should return, think better of me, Catherine." ... "That will depend on the manner of your return."

In Eleven we had plenty of time to digest the plans for the heist, even after delving into each member of the fellowship. Not this time; like The Two Towers and ROTK, we know the crew and don't need any more depth as far as the people are concerned. In addition, Twelve is character driven and more focused on trickeration. The fellowship runs through three separate jobs, though we never really figure out how it's all done nor do we necessarily care about the details and whether the story is straightforward.

As important as the entire cast returning and as vital as Peter Jackson to ROTK, Ocean's 11 director Steve Soderbergh takes the helm again to oversee the sequel. The attractive mix of shots, editing and color differ from scene to scene yet never look false, and move the story along while providing details for us to watch in the background as much as the characters in the foreground.

	The power of the Stolen Rings is ended. The time has come for the dominion of Julia.

Sure, it's no Pelennor Fields, but Soderbergh throws in a Red Sox-(Bleeping) Yanks brawl. Is it even a contest? Seriously, when's the last time the (Bleeping) Yanks won the Series? 2000? Geez, what's wrong with them, some sort of curse? Yes, I threw that in as a reminder that Boston won the World Series. What of it?

No matter if you're looking for a legendary epic or a clever heist flick, you get good clean family fun. There aren't any uncomfortable situations or violence, and no bad language. The dialogue is snippy, snazzy and hilarious throughout, not to mention full of holes, allowing us to take what's being said any number of ways.

Any way you put it, this is entertainment at Hollywood's finest.