Director:
Steven SoderberghGuión:
Reid CarolinCámara:
Steven SoderberghReparto:
Channing Tatum, Matthew McConaughey, Alex Pettyfer, Matt Bomer, Joe Manganiello, Olivia Munn, Betsy Brandt, Mircea Monroe, Riley Keough, Adam Rodriguez (más)Sinopsis(1)
Mike es un emprendedor que pasa los días persiguiendo el ?american dream? (sueño americano) de todas las formas posibles a su alcance: reparando los tejados de las casas, lavando coches o diseñando muebles en su apartamento de la playa de Tampa. Pero, por la noche... Mike se convierte en simplemente... mágico. Estrella de un espectáculo masculino, Magic Mike, gracias a su estilo original y a su forma excepcional de bailar, es desde hace unos años la atracción principal del club Xquisite. Y cuanto más gusta a las mujeres, más gastan estas y más contento está Dallas, el propietario del local. Mike, que intuye las posibilidades de un joven de diecinueve años al que llama el Niño (Alex Pettyfer), lo toma bajo su protección y lo inicia en las artes de bailar, animar una fiesta, seducir a las mujeres y hacer dinero fácil. No pasa mucho tiempo antes de que la nueva atracción del club empiece a tener a sus propias admiradoras. Mientras, Mike conoce a la hermana del Niño, Brooke, tan diferente de las otras chicas... (Alta Films)
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Reseñas (11)
Channing Tatum produjo una «película independiente sobre relaciones» que lo mostró más maduro. Sensibles diálogos anti-papel, a veces tanto que unos cuantos gazapos de conversación los ayudarían en lugar de perjudicarlos. Dos momentos cinematográficos fantásticos: la cámara en la escena inicial (dos chicas en la cama de Tatum) y una escena posterior con el corte del teléfono móvil (marcando el número de la chica) a la pareja, ya acostada y abrazada en la cama. Todo lo demás es muy aburrido, con una actuación insulsa del personaje principal, que supuestamente iba a ser lo más destacado de la película.
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Steven Soderbergh encontró (de nuevo) un equilibrio bastante sólido entre la declaración social y la comedia comercial, en la que hace un buen uso de la clasificación R. Lo interesante es que, si le quitamos todas las atracciones comerciales, las coreografías de baile bien hechas y el trabajo visual muy imaginativo de la cámara, nos quedamos con el esqueleto de un drama completamente funcional basado en personajes bien descritos. En este sentido, siempre me gustará más la británica Full Monty con su humor seco, pero al mismo tiempo puedo recomendar Magic Mike sin remordimientos de conciencia.
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I have never attended a strip show and if I were invited, I would decline. I consider it in the same category as wrestling or beauty pageants, which means a vulgar show. And from that perspective, it also affects my evaluation of Soderbergh's film, which I otherwise consider a demonstration of very decent filmmaking. However, I have a problem with the fact that the director made a pleasant, cultured, and romantic film from an environment that in no way is pleasant, cultured, or romantic. In short, it glosses over and moves it to a different level than the world of strippers or their consumers deserve. The British film The Full Monty took a different approach and wanted to communicate and sell something completely different to the viewers, and with that film, I was on the same wavelength. Overall impression: 45%.
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A mission in life to some, survival to others. I get that Channing Tatum wouldn’t agree with me, but I really shouldn’t have watched this. When a bunch of guys shake their bods in front of the screen for two whole hours, you wouldn’t want to see it either. And the array of women who appear in the movie definitely won’t salvage it by their beauty. However, I acknowledge and respect the fact that Channing managed to get himself out of this sort of job. I also acknowledge his and Matt’s great acting performances. But everything else was a miss for me.
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On the glittering surface, Soderbergh adores the strippers, while on the inside he laughs at their transference of existential experience into beautiful bodies and powerful experiences. Probably. He doesn’t lead us to a single, unambiguous reading of Magic Mike, so it’s not a problem to see it as being akin to Flashdance (and other dance-themed ‘80s hits), given its story about a poor, not very bright guy who whose handsome face and simulation of sexual movements brought him wealth, fame and drugs. In various imaginative ways, however, the film makes it clear that this is not a typical rise-to-stardom story. The appealing striptease performances, pumped up with loud music and lighting effects, contrast with the simplest possible dialogue scenes devoid of music and camera tricks (long shots, a static camera, a lively and occasionally funny mise-en-scéne). The dialogue, which is more important in terms of its content than as means of expression for the characters, was either superbly written and acted or at least partially improvised. The hesitations, pauses, slips of the tongue, shy glances and bashful gestures transport us back from the flawless world of pumped-up penises and fake police uniforms to awkwardly natural reality. Thanks to his previous experience, Channing Tatum clearly knew best how to depict a man whose exhibitionism gives him a false sense of control, but those whom he thinks are under his control (Alex Pettyfer) or whose uncontrollability leads him to confront his own “emptiness” (Cody Horn) are no less authentic. In the most straightforward sense of the word, the star of the evening is Matthew McConaughey, the personification of the word “macho”, who was finally offered a role requiring nothing more than what he has built his entire acting career on – tough-guy talk and an ostentatious exhibition of his abdominal muscles. Bare male bodies appear frequently in the film, in lengthy shots and – with one exception – without liberating cuts to the face of someone who finds such behaviour inappropriate. I would venture to guess that these scenes will seem unnecessary especially to the men in the audience, which may have been a marketing tactic (the ideal film for a girls’ night out), as well as the director’s attack on the male gaze, on the unwritten rule that calls for much more frequently exposing the bodies of women, whose nudity is conversely presented here without any sensationalism. The constant duplicity and endless uncertainty of whose side Soderbergh is on do not in any way disturb the film’s cohesiveness (which is rather disrupted by a few needless camera exhibitions with an image with qualities other than those of sunny California) and create a peculiar tension behind a story that is seemingly so simple and smooth that it could easily slip by less attentive viewers. The excitement that the film provides is not only sensual (regardless of your preferences), but also cinephilic. 80%
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