Review by
Eric Hillis
Directed by: Steven Soderbergh
Starring: Channing Tatum, Salma Hayek Pinault, Ayub Khan Din, Jemelia George, Juliette Motamed, Vicki Pepperdine
A glamorous socialite takes a rugged man from his gator-infested home
to the bright lights of a major western metropolis. Out for revenge
against her rich ex-husband, a woman brings a seemingly out-of-depth
American nice guy to London with the hopes of ruining her ex's business,
which she has recently gained control of. Sound familiar? Yep,
Magic Mike's Last Dance is two parts Crocodile Dundee,
three parts Ted Lasso.
The male stripper franchise has had an odd trajectory.
Steven Soderbergh's first movie attracted a girls' night out
crowd hoping to get a glimpse of some buff male flesh, but served a
somewhat prudish and judgmental look at the world of male stripping. The
sequel, Magic Mike XXL, saw Soderbergh replaced in the director's chair by his frequent
collaborator Gregory Jacobs. That sequel delivered the fun night out
audiences thought they were getting from the original, with lots of
stripping sequences for the ladies and a bromance narrative for the
lads. Soderbergh returns for a third instalment, and along with him so
does the surprisingly conservative streak of the first film.
We find Channing Tatum's Mike Lane serving drinks at parties run
by Florida's wealthy elite. This is the sort of gig most of the
population would aspire to, but it's portrayed here as a sign that Mike
is down on his luck. His furniture restoration business, which the first
film sold as a more noble alternative to dancing in a thong, has gone
bust because of the pandemic. When the party's host, Max (Salma Hayek Pinault), learns of his past life as a stripper, she offers Mike $6,000 for a
private show. Mike accepts, and things get so heated that the pair end
up in bed. Impressed by his skills, Max offers Mike $60,000 to accompany
her to London and direct a show centred around male stripping to be held
in the old theatre she has won from her millionaire hubby as part of
divorce proceedings.
One of the most clichéd storylines in the musical genre is that of the
plucky protagonists putting on a show in the hopes of saving some
beloved institution from an evil capitalist who wants to turn it into a
variation of a Starbucks. With Magic Mike's Last Dance, Soderbergh flips this idea and asks us to root for the Starbucks.
We're told that the theatre - known as The Rattigan – has been
hosting the same stuffy period comedy for decades, yet despite packing
out every night, Max decides it needs a reboot. Disguising American
cultural imperialism as faux progressivism, there's much talk here of
how outdated is the play's narrative of a woman having to make a choice
between a rich man and a broke man who makes her happy. Sure, it's
clichéd, and I'm no fan of Britain's obsession with period comedies and
dramas, but people still lap this stuff up.
Magic Mike's Last Dance is guilty of doing the very thing
it's critiquing, with Max essentially forced to choose between staying
in a world of money or taking a chance with potless nice guy Mike.
Despite several rants by various characters about misogyny, ultimately
this is a movie that suggests a woman just needs a good man (or at least
a good dick) to make her happy. It's as though it was written by one of
those gammons who dress like Nascar drivers you see on social media
spouting shite about how all a man wants from a woman is to come home to
a good home-cooked meal.
Magic Mike's Last Dance will also appeal to conservatives
with its stance on free market capitalism. London's council is portrayed
as the villain because of regulations regarding what alterations can and
can't be made to The Rattigan. God forbid a council would like to
protect historical buildings. In an era when London is being strip-mined
and sold off to various foreign billionaires and oligarchs, this stuff
really leaves a nasty taste in the mouth. Are we sure Rishi Sunak didn't
write this thing?
If you're expecting some male flesh you'll be largely disappointed, as
you're likely to see more at the shirt-swapping climax of your average
football match. It does open with an admittedly hot scene in which Mike
performs for Max, with Tatum and Hayek seeming to really enjoy
themselves, but that's as steamy as it gets. The will-they-won't-they
narrative has about as many stakes as that of an Elvis movie, and while
they certainly display sexual heat there's a severe lack of romantic
chemistry between the pair. For a character who has had three movies
bearing his name, Mike is something of a non-entity, and the decision to
have Tatum largely refrain from strutting his very impressive dance
moves this time is an odd one. Soderbergh's ability to fashion a fun
sequence occasionally enlivens the by-the-numbers drama, with a brief
dance number on a bus the highlight, but with a central romantic plot
you'll be hard pressed to care about,
Magic Mike's Last Dance has occasional bumps but is mostly
a grind.
