I've actually had people say right to my face that they have no interest in seeing Steven Soderbergh's MAGIC MIKE because they'd be uncomfortable watching a movie "about a bunch of dudes taking their clothes off." For those of you who think that way, you're actually part of the problem. I don't mean the problem of the current movie-going public; I mean the problem in the world. Without calling any of you insecure in you own masculinity, the bigger issue is that a lot of people don't hold good movie making in high regard any longer.
As a wise person once said there are no such things as boring stories, only boring storytellers, and Soderbergh is about as far from being a boring storyteller as one can get. He finds small, unseen corners in every story he tells that other filmmakers wouldn't dream of noticing. He shies away from no subject, because he knows that somewhere in every plot is a human story just waiting to rise to the surface. But none of this means anything if he doesn't also find value in making his movies fun. And above all other things—the eye-opening look at the sleazy, behind-the-curtain, drug-, alcohol-, and sex-fueled life of a male stripper—MAGIC MIKE is a whole lot of fun.
The world that Mike (Channing Tatum) exists in is actually seen through two sets of eyes. He sees this job (and one or two others he has at any one time) as a means to an end—he wants to design, build and sell custom furniture through his own company. But at one point late in the film, someone actually accuses him of liking the attention that stripping gets him, and he seems stunned, either by the accusation or the fact that it has taken him this long to realize it.
The other set of eyes viewing this existence belong to Adam (Alex Pettyfer, most often referred to as "The Kid" in the movie), who Mike meets on a construction site and decides to take under his wing and bring him into the stripping life. Adam resents all manner of authority, but he takes to Mike because he doesn't feel like a boss, even when he pushes The Kid on stage when another dancer is forced to drop out.
Mike meets The Kid's sister, Brooke (Cody Horn), and he sees a spark of independence in her that he recognizes. She's not the kind of woman he typically meets at the club (and usually beds shortly there after). She's trying to look out for her brother, who's a natural-born fuck up. At it's core, MAGIC MIKE is actually about the constantly shifting relationship between these three characters; everything else is there to make us laugh and dance, and there's no shame in that.
Working from a script by Reid Carolin, Soderbergh doesn't focus much on the other dancers that Mike works with. While most of them (played by the likes of Matt Bomer, Joe Manganiello and Adam Rodriguez) doesn't get nearly as fleshed out off stage as they do on, there's enough backstage banter and behavior to give each secondary player something interesting to build on.
The real bolt of lightning in MAGIC MIKE comes in the form of Matthew McConaughey, who is absolutely shot out of a cannon as Dallas, the club owner and emcee. McConaughey goes from lovable mentor and business partner to Mike to threatening thug about as fast as velcro pants come flying off these guys. Between this film, BERNIE, and the upcoming KILLER JOE, McConaughey is having the best year of his acting career.
Although it came as no surprise to me, it was great to see Tatum really play to his strengths as both a dancer (his final routine on stage is jaw dropping before he takes a stitch of clothing off) and an actor who seems to get better with each role. He finds time to tap into his background as the star of romance films in his scenes with Horn, and he reminds us of his surprising gift for comedy as well.
It is actually possible to make a smart movie populated by not-smart characters. And while Mike and Brooke are certainly the smartest of the bunch, Soderbergh has chosen to show us a lifestyle where people tend to life recklessly and without regard for consequences. Mike manages to live mostly on the right side of the sleaze that surround him, but that doesn't mean he isn't occasionally caught up in other people's messes. It's fascinating watching him drift between worlds, never committing to one but never staying completely out of trouble either.
On the surface, MAGIC MIKE is a film about picking up women, making money, partying, and man ass. But dig a little deeper in that man ass, and you'll find a story about the benefits and perils of possessing ambition in an environment that appreciates it to a point. This is a step in an extremely entertaining and thought-provoking directions for everyone involved, and I'm particularly interested to see where Tatum goes next (after he puts that G.I. JOE sequel in his rearview).
