El último baile de Magic Mike

Después de la dramáticamente bien hecha película número uno y la relajada y agradable número dos, viene la tercera (y probablemente la última), que es solo un cuento de hadas dulce e ingenuo del viejo mundo. De nuevo, es algo un poco diferente en cuanto al género, lo que quizás se podría apreciar, pero esta vez el cambio realmente no me gustó mucho. Soderbergh reemplazó a los personajes simpáticamente engreídos de las partes anteriores con nuevos personajes completamente detestables que cumplen con los clichés cinematográficos más trillados (amante impulsiva incomprendida, adolescente multitalentosa trampeada, mayordomo sabio reservado). Y hablando de clichés, los cameos a través de Zoom se están convirtiendo en una herramienta cinematográfica muy popular en los últimos meses. Nuevamente, el trabajo de cámara es bonito, la coreografía de los bailes está bien, también hay algunos momentos divertidos de Soderbergh que son "wtf", pero no tengo otro remedio que decir que en términos de la trama, corresponde solamente al canal Hallmark a las 14:30. (09.02.2023)

The first Magic Mike was an uncomplicated social drama, the second a road movie and this, the third one, is a Lubitsch-esque conversational comedy built on the foundation of a backstage musical. Or Pretty Woman in reverse, if you like (a rich housewife buys the company of a stripper with a heart of gold, and the question of “love or money?” stands at the centre of the story). However, there is also criticism of the capitalism/patriarchy that turns everything into a commodity (London is humorously presented through a series of shots of souvenirs) and promises to women, who are at the centre of the narrative for the first time, freedom (the perhaps most expensive shop in the city is aptly called Liberty) and  fulfilment of their most secret fantasies, but only if they give up their wealth and power. In other words, it really has to be a fantasy realised somewhere in the theatre, without any overlap with the real world, where men still make the decisions. Magic Mike’s Last Dance can also be seen as Soderbergh’s effort to subversively play around with the concept of legacy sequels, at which he both succeeds and fails (and reflects his own position, when, like Mike, he has to build on a successful brand, sell himself and rely on patrons instead of building something new because of the systemic conditions). The protagonist wouldn’t have done anything spectacular without someone else’s money and a job offer; he simply would have continued to make a living as a bartender and remained a lone wolf. The old gang only appears briefly during a Zoom call and there are minimal references to the preceding instalments (a flashback with a striptease in a police costume). The dance scenes, thanks to which this is one of the most erotic Hollywood films without sex (and it will make your nipples erect regardless of your gender or orientation) are parodically overwrought (the opening “pornographic” dance à la Fifty Shades of Grey and its moist variation at the end). The deliberate formulaicness with the division of the story into basic archetypes is made visible by the straightforward voiceover, which transform’s Mike’s return to the stage almost into a fairy tale or mythical story. It’s definitely not as silly and shallow as it may seem when viewing it on a superficial level. 75% (08.02.2023)