When stripping down 2012's MagicMike, the Soderbergh-ness of it is really what stands out...at least for
those who weren't just there to see glistening male gods flex their ab muscles.
It was in every sense a Steven Soderbergh film, and not completely unlike his
prior effort The Girlfriend Experience,
in that it explored the hopes, dreams, and troubles of people in a
generally-maligned sex industry. That there were larger concerns, such as the
failing economy, gave the film an unexpected richness. Truth be told, the
serious stuff didn't totally jibe with the frat boy pack mentality of the
characters, and it always seemed like there was a lighter film peeking through
around the edges. Magic Mike
XXL is that movie; it shunts
aside most of the heavy concerns about the future in favor of an in-the-moment
quest for fun, sex, money, and fame.
And yes, there are plenty of peaking pecs
and gyrating hips for those who are looking for it, and actually in this case
these scenes are far more indulgent. They are rarer but definitely longer,
beginning with star Channing Tatum's woodshed pop 'n lock performance to
Ginuwine's "Pony" that's sure to set off sparks (literally). Tatum,
who has based the film and the title character on his personal experiences,
doesn't look or move like he's aged a day in years, and he's especially
energetic in this role. Just as Mike is feeling drawn back to the glory of his
dancing career, Tatum also seems energized by recalling these old memories. Magic Mike XXL is essentially a road trip movie, in
which Mike is convinced by his retiring buddies to go on one final bash down in
Myrtle Beach, a hedonistic journey in which they can go out in a blaze of
glory.
That's not to say Mike's past is
completely punted to the side, at least not at first. It's been three years,
and Mike has done exactly what he had set out to do in the first film. The
problem is that his design business isn't exactly panning out, and the
relationship he had with his girlfriend didn't work out. So when the merry band
of hunks come calling, Mike is eager to go back to something he knows he's good
at it; namely hoovering in $1 bills from steamed up women. And who better to
make a comeback with than his fellow Kings of Tampa, who are coasting without
the guidance of their mentor Dallas (Matthew McConaughey's character from the
first film), who has left them high and dry.
So this movie is less about Mike; his
motivations for joining them are skimmed over breezily; and just as much about
his pals: "Big Dick" Richie (Joe Manganiello), Tarzan
(ex-pro wrestler Kevin Nash), Tito (Adam Rodriguez), Tobias (Gabriel Iglesias)
and Zen philosopher Ken (Matt Bomer). Crammed inside of a makeshift food
truck (seriously), oddly perfect for this much beefcake; the gang embarks on a
journey not-so-much about self-discovery but instant gratification. Free from
Dallas' control, the guys challenge one another to come up with their own
routines, like some kind of testosterone-fueled Bring It On. But not everybody
is convinced. Surprisingly, these dudes who are chiseled from marble have body
issues of their own to deal with; and it's not their pudgy DJ Tobias. Instead
it's "Big Dick", and the film's highlight number has him in a
convenience store seductively wooing a clerk to the sounds of the Backstreet
Boys.
Its little asides like that which keep the
film feeling somewhat aimless and wandering, but that's kind of what one would
expect a movie about a bunch of directionless dudes to be. Their various
stopovers are where the majority of the real bumping and grinding take place.
After a National Lampoon-esque accident forces them off the road, the guys pass
through Savannah where Mike reconnects with Rome (an extremely sultry Jada
Pinkett Smith), a former employer/lover who now runs a giant mansion with a
subscription-based clientele servicing hundreds of eager women. It's here that
the gang is forced to confront the changing face of their business; it's not
just moving one's hips up on stage anymore. The business is evolving, seen in
the sing-songy style used by Andre (Donald Glover, showing more flesh than this
writer ever wanted to see) to forge a personal connection with the women.
Michael Strahan and his infamous tear-away pants also make an appearance, plus
Amber Heard turns up as an upper-class girl rebelling against her parents or
something. Screenwriter Reid Carolin (who also wrote the first film)
is basically telling one long male stripper fantasy. It's essentially guy wish
fulfillment, including an extended scene in which the guys party with a group
of older, rich, white southern women (led by Andie MacDowell, oozing pecan pie
charm) desirous of contact with any men unlike their husbands. And who are
these able young men to deny them such a thing? They should have followed them
down to the big convention blowout, an incredible 20-minute strip-a-thon
culminating in Tatum and Stephen "Boss" Twitch tag teaming two women
into euphoric submission.
Directed by Soderbergh compatriot Greg
Jacobs, Magic Mike XXL is a looser, freer film than before.
Carefree from start to finish, it nevertheless has Soderbergh's fingerprints
all over it, which shouldn't be surprising since he acts as the cinematographer
and editor. It makes for an interesting confluence of styles, one that works in
making a sequel that lighter on its feet and more accessible to a wider audience;
meaning guys won't have to feel embarrassed about loving Magic Mike XXL!
Rating: 3.5 out of 5
