Film review: Magic Mike XXL

Three years on, Cody Horn and Alex Pettyfer are unnoticeably absent but there’s a yawning hole where Matthew McConaughey needs to be.

Far too much of the weak script is devoted to Dallas (McConaughey), explaining away his absence and not really covering the huge hole he left behind.

To fill you in, the Kings of Tampa are road trippin’ to a stripper convention in Georgia.

The first act is almost insufferable. Next to nothing happens, except for a completely bizarre Flashdance-esque performance by Mike (Tatum) who realises he still loves to dance.

There’s an awful lot of mumbling as well. The beginning has the script and action of a low budget Indie film with none of the plot.

When Mike rejoins the Kings, for their ‘last ride’, things lift a little. A little.

With the exception of one scene, which does feature some dancing, any scene without dance is relentlessly tepid.

Leading to the ‘climax’ there are two high points. One is an excruciatingly awkward but hilarious dance in a service station, perfectly NSYNC with the Back Street Boys’ I Want It That Way.

The other is when they show up unannounced at a Southern mansion; Tito has a beach party fling with one of the daughters of the owner.

Surprisingly, the owner doesn’t call the cops when five burly men show up at her door. Instead she gets them drunk and in return they give the women therapy in the only way they know how.

Most of the script is contrived to lead from one dance routine to the next. But it is unbelievably contrived.

Not too mention Amber Heard’s Zoe is the most boring ‘love interest’, if she is that, known to film.

Her character arc is mostly that she is sad and Mike finally makes her smile.

This film is, and I mean this in a bad way, everything we thought the first film was going to be but wasn’t.

Plotless and character void but fun.

Image courtesy of Warner Films via YouTube, with thanks.

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