Tuesday, July 7, 2015

Magic Mike XXL or Moron Mike XXDumb

Minus 14 million stars (the production cost) 
(Opens 9th July most cinemas)

100 year old egg. Yum yum.
I hated this film so much, it gets its own review page so I can rant. Warning, I overuse the word dumb in this review a lot. It just kept springing to mind.

Things I would rather do than watch this film ever again:
  1. Eat a one hundred-year-old egg
  2. Clean a public toilet with a toothbrush
  3. Attend a Justin Bieber concert
  4. Watch Telly Tubbies on repeat for twenty-four hours
  5. Be stuck in an elevator overnight with someone who only talks sport
  6. Have my entire body waxed. Twice.
  7. Drink a litre of cod liver oil
  8. Spend an evening with Miley Cyrus
  9. Change all the nappy/diapers in a newborn ward for a week
  10. Read Fifty Shades of Grey series

   As a film reviewer, I’m forced to take the bad with the good. When you see 180 plus films a year it adds up to a lot of bad. I count the woeful The Counselor and Fading Gigolo as two of the worst in recent years, alongside Taken 2 and a couple of Nicholas Sparks adaptations that were excruciating. Recently we’ve endured a spate of bad taste films, too: Ted 2, The Interview, last year’s horror Tusk, and I see Human Centipede has raised its ugly head again. With many cinemagoers complaining the recent reboots of Jurassic Park and Terminator as being just “okay,” filmmaking seems to have taken a dive in quality.
     Lately I’ve been asking: How much lower can it go?
   Now we know, it can go as low as the awful Magic Mike XXL.
   Not only is it incompetently directed and acted, the very concept of the film has set back women’s equality fifty years. Why it’s getting any ratings at all from reviewers is beyond me. Before you start thinking me a killjoy, I actually thoroughly enjoyed the first Magic Mike, and I’m usually up for fun and woohooing at nice looking shirtless men.
   Fun for me, though, is not watching dumb men discuss their tiny, boring lives, take drugs while driving, hump sexually deprived women, do some kind of weird drug induced embarrassing dance to make a checkout girl smile like they are endowing her with some great gift, and pretend that they have some kind of shining future if they can only dance and strip at an annual convention.

Don't they look so smart
   When I say dumb, think the type of personalities that discuss their sexual exploits over breakfast by asking, Did you bang her, and did you get it in the whole way, every inch? and then high five each other when the successful candidate answers in the affirmative.
   Oscar winner Matthew McConaughey hasn’t returned for this one. I figure he read the script by Reid Carolin who also wrote the first one. That’s it to Carolin’s screenwriting credits—stripper films. Director Gregory Jacobs, who only has two smaller films to his credit, assistant directed many decent films. Even with that experience he somehow managed to allow his big name actors (and lesser known but muscle encumbered) to mumble their lines, stand in poorly lit frames amid shadows (Was the lighting director at lunch?), and create scenes where absolutely nothing happens.
     A tip to both writer and director: building romance between characters takes more than dragging a girl on stage and throwing her around while simulating sex before hundreds of stupidly screaming women throwing money.

Here Channing Tatum's character is trying to woo this girl on stage. How romantic
      Channing Tatum, whose life the original Magic Mike was based on, proves he is just an aging pretty face. Other than the reasonably okay 21 Jump Street, he’s not done great things in cinema. After seeing this, I understand why. He’s just not a good actor. Yeah, yeah, he was good in Foxcatcher, but all he had to do was act dopey and drugged, maybe not a stretch for him if Magic Mike is his life story.
When you are feeling unloved, this is where you go.
     With great power comes great responsibility, so I’m going to tell you the whole plot to save you thinking it sounds good and might be fun. Now you don’t need to see it. A bunch of dumb strippers decide on one last strip-fling by travelling to the Strippers’ Convention in Myrtle Beach. On the way, they get drunk, take drugs, crash their bus, sleep with women, dance and tear their shirts off at every opportunity, discover they are bored with the same old dance routines and want more from life (save me). Finally, they dance their new routines (which are pretty nothing) before women who throw money at them. This proves how dumb they are, because they’re so proud of their new dance moves. The money throwing, screaming female audience also proves their dumbness in these scenes. When women behave this way, how can they demand equality and to be taken seriously? If men acted this way with women, there’d be an outcry.
   Deep and meaningful message of the film: Queens (Jada Pinkett Smith character’s label for the misguided women who attend some kind of brothel without the sex and the Strippers’ convention), if you feel unloved and unappreciated allow a complete dumb, strange man to dry hump your leg and most of your body and twirl you around like a human baton. After this activity, your world will be improved and you will be happy, although you will be minus a few dollars.

  Ladies, please, please don’t throw your dollars at this film, which should be relabeled Moron Mike XXDumb. If you do, they will make another one. We need another film like this like we need a hole in a stripper’s G-string. Girls, we deserve better than this.

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