Boys won’t be boys: How Magic Mike XXL denounces… | Little White Lies

In Praise Of

Boys won’t be boys: How Mag­ic Mike XXL denounces tox­ic masculinity

08 Feb 2023

Words by Connor Lightbody

Muscular male dancers performing shirtless on stage, wearing jeans and sneakers. They are in various poses with arms raised, showcasing their physiques against a dark background.
Muscular male dancers performing shirtless on stage, wearing jeans and sneakers. They are in various poses with arms raised, showcasing their physiques against a dark background.
Gre­go­ry Jacobs’ sec­ond instal­ment in the Mag­ic Mike fran­chise is a les­son in self-accep­tance and fol­low­ing your dreams.

When Steven Soderbergh’s Mag­ic Mike first erupt­ed glo­ri­ous­ly onto screens, reviews appeared that couldn’t help but be seen as stained by inter­nalised misog­y­ny. Whilst cur­rent­ly hold­ing a 78% Rot­ten Toma­toes approval rat­ing, some rot­ten’ reviews described it as being a guilty plea­sure for sex­u­al­ly frus­trat­ed house­wives” and that on the scale of chick flicks, Mag­ic Mike is a 10”.

Ter­mi­nol­o­gy root­ed in misog­y­ny like chick flick’ and house­wives’ attempts to deval­ue Mag­ic Mike, a film firm­ly engaged with the flaws with the Amer­i­can dream. Such terms are pre­dom­i­nant­ly only used when attempt­ing to triv­i­alise films mar­ket­ed towards queer and female audi­ences, so when Mag­ic Mike XXL dropped to sim­i­lar­ly misog­y­nis­tic reviews, there was a cer­tain irony to be had, as Gre­go­ry Jacobs’ play­ful sequel focus­es on denounc­ing the repres­sive nature of tox­ic mas­culin­i­ty and cel­e­brat­ing its queer and female tar­get audience.

Tox­ic Mas­culin­i­ty, or tra­di­tion­al mas­cu­line ide­ol­o­gy’, is the idea that men are unable to express them­selves emo­tion­al­ly for fear of appear­ing weak’ or fem­i­nine’. In Mag­ic Mike XXL, this man­i­fests itself ear­ly on when Mike Lane (Chan­ning Tatum) is told by Tarzan (Kevin Nash) that their for­mer boss has gone’. Tarzan – apt­ly named, as Edgar Rice Bur­roughs’ pro­tag­o­nist is a tra­di­tion­al­ly tox­ic male arche­type that aban­dons cul­ture and emo­tion­al intel­li­gence – obscures the vul­ner­a­bil­i­ty he would feel by admit­ting that he and the Kings of Tam­pa” have been aban­doned by their shady fig­ure­head Dal­las (Matthew McConaugh­ey), choos­ing instead to let Mike believe Dal­las had died.

Hav­ing cho­sen the cap­i­tal­is­tic Amer­i­can Dream’ at the end of Mag­ic Mike, Mike doesn’t ini­tial­ly join back up with the group on their pil­grim­age to Myr­tle Beach. That is, until Ginuwine’s Pony’, a song he once danced to in his rou­tine, comes on the radio. He begins danc­ing erot­i­cal­ly in his work­shop, his gyrat­ing hips and phal­lic-replace­ment drill thrust­ing, remind­ing him of a for­mer career he was pas­sion­ate about. The moment allows the audi­ence, and cru­cial­ly Mike him­self, an insight into his cur­rent life: he’s no longer free to be the sex­u­al­ly lib­er­at­ed per­son he used to be, who took pride in his work of pro­vid­ing plea­sure to women.

Mike, seek­ing a mod­icum of his for­mer hap­pi­ness, joins back up with the posse of Adonis­es, much to the cha­grin of Ken (Matt Bomer) who feels that Mike aban­doned them and is yet to apol­o­gise. A tra­di­tion­al­ly tox­ic idea sur­round­ing male con­flict is that vio­lence solves prob­lems – how often with­in main­stream media are audi­ences forced to wit­ness two men go toe-to-toe, their eas­i­ly solved con­flict devolv­ing into fisticuffs, their fists doing the talk­ing? Mag­ic Mike XXL fea­tures a sin­gle bout of this kind of vio­lence, phrased as old-school therapy”.

It plays out in a cliché fash­ion, the men loud­ly goad­ing each oth­er with insults. How the scene ends, how­ev­er, is what shows writer Carolin’s true inten­tion: Mike, after being punched by Ken, asks Do you feel bet­ter now?” Ken replies No I don’t…that was seri­ous­ly f*cked up. There are a lot bet­ter ways to han­dle that shit.” While the men ini­tial­ly laugh his reac­tion off, it rever­ber­ates through the film as every sin­gle con­flict from this moment on is han­dled through dia­logue, com­pro­mise and with emo­tion­al matu­ri­ty. Jacobs uses the scene to deplore the unmer­it­ed anger that men so often feel they must pea­cock, to tell men that vio­lence is not the answer.

It’s symp­to­matic of tox­ic mas­culin­i­ty to avoid emo­tion­al vul­ner­a­bil­i­ty, and Mag­ic Mike XXL choos­es to smash the notion that vul­ner­a­bil­i­ty equals weak­ness by por­tray­ing a group of con­ven­tion­al­ly attrac­tive men with both emo­tion­al depth and abil­i­ty beyond what cap­i­tal­ism dic­tates. With a sub­tle focus on the arts, our strip­per pro­tag­o­nists go through a meta­mor­pho­sis, shed­ding the con­fin­ing chrysalis of mas­culin­i­ty as the stereo­typ­i­cal blue-col­lar strip­per cos­tumes get discarded.

Two muscular men, one in a hard hat, the other shirtless wearing an open jacket, standing in an industrial setting.

For their last hur­rah, they choose to show­case not just physique but com­plex matu­ri­ty around their true pas­sions. They’re final­ly hon­est with them­selves, incor­po­rat­ing these wants into their rou­tine. Ken wants to sing, Tito (Adam Rodriguez) wants to make pro­bi­ot­ic fro-yo, Tarzan wants to paint – with glit­ter! – and Richie (Joe Man­ganiel­lo) wants to set­tle down, danc­ing to Bruno Mars’ Mar­ry You” while wor­ship­ping a woman in a bridal veil. There’s even a sub­ver­sion of stereo­typ­i­cal het­ero­nor­ma­tive mar­riage as it trans­forms into BDSM when he throws his pseu­do-wife into a sex swing.

While Mag­ic Mike XXL speaks pro­gres­sive­ly on [tox­ic] mas­culin­i­ty, an ele­ment that tru­ly stands out is the film’s astute take on female empow­er­ment. Women, of var­ied races and sizes are deemed queens and are all con­sen­su­al­ly invit­ed on stage or into a chair and wor­shipped. When the strip­pers need assis­tance, they turn to Rome (Jada Pin­kett-Smith), a woman who taught Mike every­thing he knows, replac­ing the McConaugh­ey emcee – the role was orig­i­nal­ly writ­ten for Jamie Foxx, but it’s infi­nite­ly more fit­ting that a woman is the one who holds all the cards for Mike and the gang, refram­ing the pow­er balance.

This is also seen in Richie and Nan­cy (Andie MacDowell)’s blos­som­ing romance, which is han­dled with a rarely seen sen­si­tiv­i­ty. Nan­cy, who is in her late 50s, broad­casts to the group that she wished she had known you guys back in our day”. Richie quick­ly shoots the idea down, telling her that It’s still your day, ma’am”. After they’re inti­mate, the group – instead of glo­ri­fy­ing Richie’s hav­ing had sex – they con­grat­u­late him on find­ing a con­nec­tion with a beau­ti­ful woman. Noth­ing is more indica­tive of this sub­ver­sive men­tal­i­ty around female empow­er­ment than when Andre (Don­ald Glover) who joins the group at the behest of Rome, says that men don’t lis­ten to women, and that all we got to do is ask them what they want and when they tell you, it’s a beau­ti­ful thing”, going on to empha­sise that they can be heal­ers, if men were to take the sub­ver­sive lessons of Mag­ic Mike XXL on board.

Mag­ic Mike XXL pro­gres­sive­ly incor­po­rates ideas around the fal­la­cy of mas­culin­i­ty, por­tray­ing tox­ic male atti­tudes as a symp­tom of cap­i­tal­ist struc­tures and decon­struct­ing the notion that female sex­u­al­i­ty and desire is shame­ful. The strip­pers in Mag­ic Mike XXL aren’t just remov­ing their clothes for the visu­al plea­sure of oth­ers – by the end they’re strip­ping away at the patri­archy and soci­etal sys­tems that allowed tox­ic mas­culin­i­ty to take root.

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