I just love this movie. And I'd be lying if I said it wasn't for prurient reasons. But those aren't the film's only virtues. I may be unpopular for saying this (because for reasons I've never actually heard elaborated, lots of my friends absolutely hate this film, though they seem ignorant of its critical praise), but I think the film is just damn good. Why? Let's get into the meat of things (*squee!*).
First things first: Yes, this is a movie about strippers. So it does carry along the things we'd expect: lots of nudity, sex, naked people, skimpy costumes, and bare skin. I think that about covers it... (or not?). Obviously the film is about sexualized men. And that is the foremost reason that I love it. In our hypersexualized culture -- whose similarly hypersexual male gaze turns us all to the female body -- it's a rare thing to see a mainstream film take this direct look at an objectified male body. Yeah, sure, it's been done before, but not usually to this extent or with such an A-list cast and crew. Is sexual objectification ever a good thing? Is it ever a good thing in the media? My answer: I dunno, but at least some artists (including men; straight men) are trying to level the playing field.
The camera here does unfortunately gaze at women, too. But I think it does so to provide an entry point for a hegemonic audience so accustomed to viewing films through the male gaze. Take the very first two scenes for example. We see the male host/emcee in erotic costume, literally in the spotlight of his stage, addressing the audience of lusting women (and, by proxy, us), talking about what parts of his body they (we!) want to touch. It's a very sly way for the filmmakers to orient their audience. And in scene two, we see our title man waking up very naked next to two very naked women. It's a relatively even distribution of power here, and it is presented in a way to both shock us into nervous laughter and to prepare us for a parade of mostly-naked men (which, again, isn't exactly something we see in most mainstream films). In fact, I bet if Olivia Munn wasn't naked in the first scene, many men would totally check out of the movie after the first eight minutes, having already been exposed to McConaughey's leather-clad self-groping and Channing Tatum's very naked rear end. I remember sitting in the theater and hearing at least two guys groan, as if thinking, "What the hell are we doing here?"
Director Steven Soderbergh masterfully helms this film as a sort of documentary, taking in many shots with a wide, distant eye, allowing for greater performances and timing. He juxtaposes these sequences with striking closeups on faces -- or, more usually, sides of faces -- to remind us of the reality of these people and the intimacy with which we are seeing their candid lives offstage. Soderbergh uses his typical style to elevate what could be salacious, soapy, or even campy material to a level of tension, realism, and even sometimes raw art. That may sound like a stretch, but when you consider other movies about strippers or sex workers (I'm thinking of Burlesque and The Full Monty, and even as popular as Pretty Woman), we see a lot of camp (i.e., a lot of style and charade without much dramatic substance), and not much else. But here, we see a form of reality.
That's not to say it's not entrancing. One of Soderbergh's more recognizable techniques (remember Traffic??) is his use of colored lenses to set certain scenes or characters apart. He uses this here, but more in contrast to the stark realism of some of the more mundane scenes. Obviously, the club and party scenes have a particular type of lighting by design, but Soderbergh alters lighting other times (most noticeably, bright reds and heavy blues) to create a hypnotic sensation to accompany the tumultuous drama onscreen.
By seeing a "form of reality", I mean a lot of things. The dialogue is awkward and stilted, which feels more honest in this film than it does in a lot of poetic dramatic pictures (yes, even Oscar winners). I'm not saying it's better or worse, but it does feel unusually true here, whatever that may mean. I also mean that the awkward dialogue, the awkward sexual encounters, and the awkward relationships depicted here provide a ton of room for laughs. Yes, it's sometimes forced, sometimes nervous, but it all works together to keep the otherwise weighty story light and kinetic (don't believe me? Just read the movie's tagline: "Work all day. Work it all night." Genius.). I also mean that we don't see a sensational, stylish, and fabulous sexed-up lifestyle as pure, fulfilling, or even always easy or enjoyable. For better or worse, this movie isn't a celebration of liberated young people and their sexual proclivities. It's about newfound celebrity, the dangers and pressures that come with riches and fame, balancing the demands of home and love and work, and the pursuit of our dreams. Yes, by the third act this movie becomes a cautionary tale about drugs and money (ugh!), but is that a bad thing, exactly? I would hazard not.
The other really great things about this film are Channing Tatum and Matthew McConaughey. I mean, the other stripper men are pretty great, they're just not on screen much (except for Alex Pettyfer, who is charming but not quite able to match the energy of his counterparts). The other players in the film aren't so great, especially not the "love interest", if that's what she is, played by Cody Horn; she looks completely inept before the camera and recites her lines like a child reading them from a cue card. But McConaughey is wonderful in a bizarre mix of raucous comedy and nuanced drama. He plays Dallas, the mad owner/host/emcee/playboy of his club, and it fits both his celebrity persona and age in a way I've never seen before. If you recall his career before 2012, you may remember that this was one of the first times (if not the first time) we saw him actually perform as a honest-to-god artist. And he got some well-deserved Oscar buzz for this role.
Tatum, on the other hand, deserved a hell of a lot more praise than he got. I remember this film as the first time I ever thought anything of Tatum beyond his musculature. He carries the film, and rocks it while he goes. He is mystifying as the man of our dreams, though that is helped along by the script. I mean, Mike is the only dynamic character here. Well, I guess the Kid sort of has a plot arc, but Pettyfer squanders his chance. Poor Tatum has to do most of his scenes opposite Pettyfer or Horn, and the fact that he still shines shows his abilities. My favorite moment of his is in his climax (??) of confronting his (stoic, childish, obnoxious) love interest: I can't tell if it's scripted or not, that's how good he is. And either way, he flies with the moment in all its awkwardness. He shows us that yes, sex workers do have real lives and hopes and dreams and fears. He shows us that showmanship and dancing is about more than good looks and skimpy clothes. And his performance shows us a real modern man, chasing an American dream, and meeting a distinctly bittersweet crossroads by the end.
IMDb: Magic Mike
No comments:
Post a Comment