Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Review - Magic Mike





Grade: B+

It's a wonder any of the kids these days would ever want to pursue a career as a performer who puts their body on the line to entertain a ravenous, fickle audience. The typical path of big dreams, punishing training, failure, success, corruption then redemption has been well worn by dozens of mainstream and independent flicks, with two of the best--Darren Aronofsky's The Wrestler and The Black Swan--coming within the last few years. Between Aronofsky's one-two punch and any number of cautionary tales the detail the soul-stomping journey to the top of the music or movie industry, the prospect of becoming a performer, and negotiating the often devastating sacrifices that comes along with such aspirations, seems wholly unappealing.

Steven Soderbergh's Magic Mike joins that not-so-exclusive collection of glamorized cautionary tales, documenting the trials of male strippers in Tampa with more gravitas, humanity, and intelligence than any stripper film ever. That said, it is an unabashed fleshfest that will probably enjoy a long life as a key attraction at budget Bachelorette parties for years to come.

Magic Mike is supposedly, loosely based on star Channing Tatum's, the eponymous Magic Mike, days as Tampa-based male "entertainer". Magic Mike twists Tatum's life story into a narrative where Mike, entreprenuer by day and stripper by night, brings the aimless Adam (I am Number Four's Alex Pettyfer, continuing to stake his claim as the Hayden Christensen of the 10's) into the grimy yet "glamorous"world of disrobing suggestively for payment in small bills. Adam is lucky to find a mentor in Mike, the top draw at Xquisite, a dusty club on the edge of Tampa run by former stripper Dallas (Matthew McConaughey, playing himself as much as a far slimier and abrasive Stacee Jaxx than Tom Cruise would have possibly been comfortable with), and a generally good guy, as evidenced by a fairly chaste courtship of Adam's sister (Cody Horn, doing a bang-up Kirsten Stewart impression with minimal pouting and stargazing). Per usual, Mike has dreams of parlaying his earnings from exotic gyrating to a legit career as a business owner and custom furniture designer. His protege, on the other hand, quickly finds himself enamored with the fast money and high times that come with rocking the center stage and soon threatens the perpetually delicate balance of Mike's semi-charmed life.

In truth, Magic Mike is essentially a distaff counterpart to Ice Cube's late 90's "cult classic" The Player's Club, boasting a simple plot with turns that anybody who has suffered through Showgirls or Striptease could see coming a mile away. Despite a rote plot,  strong performances and Soderbergh's sober, grounded approach elevate Magic Mike beyond its trappings to make a something rather special that manages to simultaneously provide soft-core titillation and a comment on the dichotomy between entrepreneurship and exploitation in America. Channing Tatum, apparently on so much of a role now that his very presence can delay a movie almost a year, delivers what would be a star-making turn if he hadn't already received such a push years ago. While I certainly wasn't the target audience for his hard-charging grinding,  the former Step Up star is a ridiculously talented dancer, and I felt bad for the rest of the TV-star cast (including Matt Bomer, Joe Manganiello, and Adam Rodriguez, mostly just background eye candy with little bearing on the narrative) who had to take the stage in his wake. Beyond his crucial dance moves, Tatum displays an affability and earnest charm that makes rooting for his character far easier than it has ever been in any of his work prior to this spring's 21 Jumpstreet. Matthew McConaughey is a close second to Tatum in sheer presence, as his slimy, preening Dallas is a role that McConaughey has been building towards his entire career. Finally, McConaughey's rakish, sweaty appeal, and penchant for going topless, seems a perfect fit for such a pompous, self-aggrandizing dick. A bit of a treat for the WWF/E fans who will surely be skipping this flick is the presence of the Great Oz himself, Kevin "Diesel/Big Daddy Cool/Big Sexy" Nash, as towering dancer, Tarzan, a casting that is rife with irony consider Nash's well-known sluggishness and propensity for injury (he even sports a knee brace while on stage and makes it through each dance without actually dancing). Interestingly, Nash has wiggled into two major summer releases in as many weeks; if he keeps this up, he might catch up with the Rock in about a decade.

Outside of the performances, Soderbergh brings dignity to what has been a commonly undignified and melodramatic narrative by keeping the drama, based on a script by Reid Carolin, measured and grounded in down-to-earth humanity. Bringing the same hazy visual aesthetic he applied in January's Haywire, which also starred Tatum--who is becoming the DiCaprio to Soderbergh's Scorcese--Soderbergh employs a relaxed pace that allows the audience to just absorb the characters in their element, alternately empathizing with their very real struggles to survive and marveling at their skill. One thing Soderbergh has proven especially adept at with his recent films is showcasing skilled performers in a way that allows the audience to truly respect their mastery, and Magic Mike is no exception to that trend. Granted, a little less than half the population is going to be ardently disinterested in Magic Mike, and while understandable, it's a shame because the stripping is just window dressing for a solidly crafted tale about the less-than-desirable, yet often immediately gratifying, things we sometimes have to do to get where we want.  

The Yin and the Yang of It

Yang: Strong performances by Tatum and McConaughey highlight a tried cautionary tale about easy money and the price of independence in America; Soderbergh keeps the melodrama to a minimum and delivers a fairly down-to-earth take on what is typically a undercooked and over-the-top narrative.

Yin: Plot is rote and by the numbers for this type of narrative; the main draw is bound to alienate a good chunk of the potential audience, which is understandable yet unfortunate.

In-Between: Penis pumps. Apparently a real thing, and not just a pop-up ad gimmick. Who knew?




No comments: