Friday, June 29, 2012
Just in case you wanted my opinion: My review of Magic Mike
Channing Tatum. Exotic Dancing. What could go wrong?
Well, let me tell you...
Drama / Comedy
Starring: Channing Tatum & Matthew McConaughey (Does anyone else in the movie really matter?)
Set in the world of male strippers, Magic Mike is directed by Steven Soderbergh and stars Channing Tatum in a story inspired by his real life. The film follows Mike (Tatum) as he takes a young dancer called The Kid under his wing and schools him in the fine arts of partying, picking up women, and making easy money.
I just realized my mistake. My only research in preparing to see this movie was watching the official trailer they released....repeatedly watching the trailer. Now that I'm typing this review, the description "Drama" is a big red flag as is the critics description of the plot.
My misconception was that it was strictly a comedy about the lives of these gorgeous dancing men. I would be lying if I told you I didn't know it would have a raunch factor. It's about exotic dancers. Please. I expected that I might have a few uncomfortable moments and possibly a slight battle with my conscience as I sat through the dancing scenes in between the love story where the girl becomes more important than the lifestyle. But, as it turns out, the exotic dancing scenes were actually a welcome relief from all the unnecessary filth of the scenes in between. I honestly don't want to waste much time rehashing this trash on my blog.
This movie could have been great. We wanted a comedy. We wanted a chic flick. We wanted to unite as a group of women and scream together as Channing Tatum lit up the screen with his dance moves. We didn't want to leave there forever UN-attracted to Matthew McConaughey. We didn't want the dark serious underworld of drugs. We didn't want to be disgusted by the characters and their behavior. And we sure as heck didn't want to see a tiny pig eat someone's drug induced vomit...*shudder*...sorry, but I've been traumatized here.
To my knowledge, the girls in our group left feeling the same and I'd take it a step further to say that most of the women in the theater felt that way too. Initially, there was an air of excitement. Women showed up wearing home made Channing Tatum fan t-shirts. A huge line formed. The all too serious mall cop wannabe ticket taker seemed ready for trouble. He almost got his wish when two of the girls from our group used their charm to sneak into the theater early to save our front seats. Or when he seemed to take notice of my "pregnant" belly that was actually a bag of smuggled popcorn shoved down my shorts. And he definitely had his hands full when they had technical difficulties and had a near riot on their hands.
By the time the movie was over, the excitement had died and women left in silence. Afterward, a few of us sat in a dirty Waffle House, trying to console our minds from what we'd just seen while our waitress unabashedly stood beside our table and listened in on our conversation.
But for good or for bad, an experience like this bonds you together. Granted, I won't be able to make direct eye contact with these girls for awhile, but when we finally feel clean again we'll realize our friendships have been taken to a new level and we'll have Magic Mike to thank for that....and the memory of a bag of popcorn that went untouched and thrown away because apparently these women won't eat popcorn after it's been down someone's shorts.
Oh, NOW we have standards...