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Three years after Mike bowed out of the stripper life at the top of his game, he and the remaining Kings of Tampa hit the road to Myrtle Beach. But they want to do it their way: burning down the house in one last blow-out performance in Myrtle Beach, and with legendary headliner Magic Mike sharing the spotlight with them. On the road to their final show, with whistle stops in Jacksonville and Savannah to renew old acquaintances and make new friends, Mike and the guys learn some new moves and shake off the past in surprising ways.
Tatum has come a long way since his "Step Up" days (he was excellent in last year's "Foxcatcher"), but he makes a number of unfortunate choices here.
July 03, 2015
Flavorwire
If the film looks and moves like a Soderbergh movie, it has a different feel than the original; it's lighter, for good and ill, an encore without much of an agenda.
Tatum and Manganiello in particular are clearly having a terrific time. It's no Toy Story 2, but as sequels go, Magic Mike XXL is a pony worth climbing on again.
If anything, better than its predecessor: looser, funnier, stranger, and vastly more subversive, a buddy road comedy that unexpectedly evolves into a celebration of female desire.
There's nothing at stake - their destination is a convention, not a contest, and it's not even clear they'll get to keep the singles that invariably rain down when they do their thing.
As I sat there laughing, I realized I wasn't only entertained. I was moved and exhilarated. Not since the days of peak Travolta and Dirty Dancing has a film so perfectly nailed something essential about movie lust
However discursive-and repetitive-the movie may be, it delivers the fantasy goods of formidable male bodies in motion, and ups the fantasy ante by making the men as sensitive, self-doubting and nurturing as they are virile.
Except for the admirable testosterone on display that represents hours in the gym instead of the acting class, the rest of Magic Mike XXL is seriously stupid.