Magic Mike Review
A lone figure on a brightly lit stage dressed in a leather waistcoat, cowboy hat and slacks, seen from behind. Women cheer as he declares the rules “of what you can and cannot touch.” “Can you touch this?” he teases whilst rubbing his nipples (we assume). The women go wild. “No, no, no, no,” he playfully chastises. He grabs his deliciously tight bum. We can’t touch that either. And last but far from least, he grabs his crotch. “That too the law says we cannot touch. But I think I see a lot of law breakers in this house tonight. And I don’t see a cop in sight.” With that too-good-to-miss invitation, we plunge head first into the ripped, flawless, impossible world of Magic Mike, an entrepreneur cum stripper with the body of Adonis and womanizing skills which make James Bond look like your granddad.
Magic Mike is Channing Tatum, and that most personable ringmaster who opened the film is the irreplaceable Matthew McConaughey, and incidentally one reason to see this film before anything is that finally we get to see him in a faux-leather G-string. About time! Anyway, Magic Mike tells the rags to riches story of wide eyed workshy Adam, played by teen heart-throb Alex Pettyfer. Adam ‘The Kid’ meets Mike in one of his day jobs as a construction worker, where he shows up wearing tennis shoes and it becomes all too apparent this manual labour malarkey isn’t going to last. Cut to the next day and we’re backstage in Xquisite, Dallas’ (McConaughey) male strip club (certainly the most successful in the whole of Tampa). Tarzan has swallowed too much pre-show ‘medicine’ and the ladies are hankering for flesh. In true La-La Land style, Mike shoves Adam on stage and tells him to take his clothes off, which he does, very awkwardly, to the beats of a ‘Like a Virgin’ only heightening the nightmare. And with that, a stripper star is born.
The film trundles along for a while, building up Adam and Mike as bestest buddys; they have some larks with some loose women, they suitably repulse Adam’s po-faced medical-assistant sister Brooke (a po-faced Cody Horn), whom Mike inexplicably grows to fancy and promises that he will take good care of her little brother… they have drinks, drugs and women galore and it’s only a matter of time before something comes crashing and burning to the ground. Inevitably, impressionable young Adam buys into the whole lifestyle hook, line and sinker and enters into ‘business’ with the club’s DJ selling ecstasy pills. Not a smart move in anyone’s book, especially when Adam leaves them at a sorority party after a hasty and not too pleasant exit. Mike buys Adam out, costing him his life’s savings, realizes his whole life is one well-hung joke, leaves the club and starts life afresh with Po-Faced Annie [Brooke] at his side. Aaw.
So all in all, Magic Mike is not the middle-aged woman aimed romp I expected it to be. There is something in it for everyone (although undoubtedly the pecs outnumber the boobs by quite some way), some lovely one liners and, as I say, there’s Matthew McConaughey in a G-string. The rags to riches/power corrupts plots fit together nicely and it’s refreshing to see a film where a big strong womanizer of a man comes crashing to the floor but I have got one major criticism: yep, you guessed it – the sister.
Brooke is a totally pointless character who serves only as a moral control, frowning herself into oblivion and raining on every parade. And in some points, senselessly over-acting. Why on earth Mike would ever fall for her is beyond me, as she has no character or ambition and he is over brimming with both. I can only assume that it’s because she’s different from what he’s used to, and getting dumped by his psychologist fuck-buddy has given him serious rebound issues. The film would be far more natural without Brooke and less stunted without the unexplainable love story slowing it down. I mean, normally these things are thrown in to please the women but…. G-string anyone?!
But in any case, this film surprised me for its wit and sometime brutality (emotional, that is). It dared to boldy go where few men have been: a male stripper scenario which isn’t all about the camp and actually treats its leads as real people (within the aforementioned La-La Land context, anyway). It’s worth catching if you want something to ogle without getting your fella in a huff by flirting shamelessly with the next Italian barman you come across, which to me seems as good a reason to get the girls down to catch this one before it does the walk of shame the morning after.
Dani Singer