Subterranean. Bottommost. Subjacent.
Studettes, I’m afraid I haven’t the language to describe just how low my bar was set for this particular film. I was all primed to catch me some Abe Lincoln when BAM! Into my lap fell advance screening tix. What’s a slut to do? I mean, really.
Needless to say, I grabbed my bar from the dirt pile in which it lay, tossed it down an open man-hole (heh heh), and pranced right in. I left charmed and delighted; NO SHIT, I was “charmed”. Now please don’t get me wrong, brothers and sisters – in all likelihood, it was complete rubbish, but I enjoyed myself and can comfortably employ heinous sex-role stereotyping and call this a Macho Man Romance (MMR). That is to say it’s completely bereft of actual romance, but the predictable construct is too obvious to deny. In fact, you’ll be able to predict the entire plot within the first 15 minutes, but the choreography and superb scenery actually succeed in making up for the pedestrian script and plot. Truly.
Magic Mike lacks the shame-free fun of Boogie Nights and in a perfect story-line, Mike is not punished for his “sinful” lifestyle, and not partnered with the surface prude still searching for her inner Studette. In this one, however, we must be satisfied with Matthew McConaughey playing the disgusting, Crisco-coated, too-fit, porn star in a 10 gallon he always plays and actually may be with zero shame, and with Joseph Manganiello FINALLY delivering the goods he slyly flashes glimpses of in True Blood, and it’s surprisingly easy (two words for you tarts: Alcide Herveaux). Channing Tatum is a dancer and actually worked as a stripper before acting, and it’s easy to be convinced there must have been CGI or a body double; the man can DEFINITELY shake his groove thang. Yes, Stephen Soderbergh has indeed made magic with a pile of dirt, and I’d say it’s worth a view with good friends, male and/or female.
But maybe a bad idea for a first date, hmmm?
Keep studly, my friends.