Magic Mike XXL * * 1/2

When I saw the first Magic Mike I was the only male in the cinema. But I was thinking there should be more men in the audience: they would probably enjoy it.   The first Magic Mike was a film with a heart and a positive message. It was just as much  a “bro” film for the guys as eye candy for the ladies. It ended with a wake-up call to Mike about the things that really matter and the start of a relationship with a smart woman who was more interested in him as a man rather than a piece of entertainment fluff for a girls night out. So when someone who reads this blog (Hi Kylie) asked (or dared) me to review Magic Mike XXL I said I’d be happy to, thinking it might be rather like the prequel.   

It is and it isn’t.   It’s more like someone you know not quite being himself.  Whereas the first one was a believable drama with some eye candy for the girls,  Magic Mike XXL behaves like the audiences portrayed in the film.  Like it’s had one drink too many and is beginning to think it’s raunchiness has more to offer than its sincerity. So whilst watching this my thoughts at being  the only male in the cinema changed from “Other guys should see this”,  to “What am I doing here?!” Magic Mike XXL is made up of a reliable two part storyline that has been used many times - a road trip followed by a competition.  Traditionally in this formula the characters learn much about each other whilst on the road: feelings come to the surface and  individual dreams and desires are discussed.  In the competition part the conflicts and differences are put aside or overcome. But it's a formula that needs good drama. Unfortunately in Magic Mike XXL good drama has been replaced by convenient strokes of luck and endless benevolence from women.  Everyone seems to come to their rescue. The boys repay with their bodies: a free strip show at a club, personal interaction with a wealthy divorcee and her friends.  Any reason to get their gear off. With 40 minutes left of a 2 hour film I realised we had hit the final scene - the male-stripper competition, which meant the fleshy finale was bound to go on at tedium, which it does.  Again, like someone who has had one drink too many. Not so much a cinematic experience  as a safe way to experience a male strip show without actually going to one.