Magic Mike XXL (2015)

The first MAGIC MIKE movie had something (not much) to say about the economic pressures that might drive a young, generously-endowed man to find an alternative' career in the world of 'male entertainment'. This sequel doesn't bother with much motivation; unfortunately, it also doesn't bother with much plot.

After shouty scenes between Mike and the other Kings of Tampa on the Bill and Ted-type road strip we get screamy scenes in Savannah at a kind of cathouse-for-ladies run by an old flame of Mike's (Jada Pinkett Smith). In the closest this film gets to the irony that was occasionally present in the first movie, the club's clients are mostly black women, brandishing fistfuls of dollars which they throw onto the dance floor rather than tucking them into trunks and thongs. Clearly Obama in the White House has done wonders for the empowerment - and enrichment - of black women. A similar scene ensues in the finale at Myrtle Beach - more shouting and screaming - when Mike and the Kings get to strut their routines at the strippers' convention.

I'm probably not part of this movie's 'demographic', although I like to see buff gents in the buff as much as the next (gay) man. We seem to have come a long way from the Chippendales. The guys don't just strip and bump and grind, they now simulate sex acts on lucky (unlucky?) women from the audience. Like the whole movie, it's lewd and it's raunchy, but subtle it ain't.