Not So Magical

One of the more nuanced moments of Magic Mike

I went to see Magic Mike.

Alone.

My period didn’t spontaneously begin.

That is not to say that I would go out of my way to see it again (I wouldn’t), but I want to talk about it for a bit. I also want to talk about the looks I received when purchasing my ticket, the snickers I got from the hoard of teen girls in the audience (for a Rated R movie!) as I walked in to the theater, and the looks of amusement and/or the audible surprise from literally everyone I’ve told about my experience.

First, let’s talk about this movie… It wasn’t that great. Not because it was chock full of greased up, mostly naked dudes. I mean.. it absolutely is chock full of greased up, mostly naked dudes, but I feel like those greased up, mostly naked dudes are not why the movie isn’t great.

The movie wasn’t great because almost all of the characters are dicks (figurative ones… sheesh).

The dramatic arc is pretty weak. The 2 major conflicts are both telegraphed from miles away. (What? The girl who they identify ONLY as trouble actually IS trouble? You don’t fucking say.) Neither of the major conflicts are particularly concerning, because one of the main characters you are mostly supposed to dislike, and the other is better off anyway.

They try to establish the Channing Tatum character as this care-free playboy, jack of all trades, artist or whatever. Instead, he’s written as clingy. You never actually see him creating his art. You never see him being good at his other various jobs. They do their best to establish him as a dude getting his life together, but for all the money he supposedly makes in all of his jobs, his well-established nest-egg is pitifully small. Basically, the character you’re supposed to like the most for all of these reasons is really only likeable because he’s Channing Tatum.

The first love interest, played by Olivia Munn, is an amoral “free spirit” who starts off fairly likeable and gets to be a cartoon. The second love interest, played by the daughter of newly appointed Disney Studios head Alan Horn, starts off overly stern and officious, and then just seems to change her mind. (I especially liked how her “boyfriend’ is immediately established as a douche. Like… you don’t like him immediately, and that seemed cheap.

Some stuff happens.

Then it just ends. It’s supposed to be cheeky (no pun intended), and naughty, and all “whatever, we’re rated R”. It mostly just comes across as an excuse to display the undeniably impressive abs of several 2^nd tier Hollywood actors.

The main laughable thing is that Matthew McConaughey is getting some sort of bizarre “best supporting actor” buzz. That’s totally insane, and a clear attempt to try to bring legitimacy or… something…. to a movie that really should just embrace the silliness.

I feel like if the movie was directed by someone else, I wouldn’t be cutting it down as much. If it were directed by Joe Johnston or some anonymous rom-com director, I think my issues would be framed a little differently. It really is just a silly movie full of eye candy for both sexual preferences (there are a lot of boobs in the movie, and it is my suspicion that there are even more that will be in the unrated version).

Unfortunately, the movie was directed by Steven Soderbergh. The same guy who directed Traffic. Ocean’s Eleven. Contagion. Movies with real points of view. Movies that are more than just a bunch of greased up dudes showing their asses (literally). The man was the first person in 60 plus years to be nominated for Best Director twice in the same year. I had higher hopes is all. Unfortunately, something got in the way, and I’m not quite sure what it is. There’s a nugget of a good movie somewhere in there. Maybe we just needed Don Cheadle to show up and cause some trouble. In an inexplicable British accident.

Overall… I give the movie a C-minus. Could have been much better.

Let’s talk for a minute, though, about the way the movie has entered our collective consciousness. Somewhere along the way, it’s been adopted by horny women (it’s really the era of Horny Women, isn’t it? What with Magic Mike and 50 Shades of Grey ) and gay men. That’s cool, you know… Everybody needs a movie to grab their attention. I just can’t think of another movie in my memory that has been so completely coopted that literally any other demographic of audience member risks ridicule.

I’ve gone to dozens of movies by myself. In fact, I mostly prefer it. Also, I don’t care if people think I’m gay. The people who need to know my sexual preference know it, and the rest of the world is free to speculate. I just think it’s weird that something as silly as a movie could even at all inform my sexuality.

Let me pose a question for you…

If there were a sports movie about a male swimming star… would that be off limits to sports fans because of the dudes in speedos? What about a movie about Greco-Roman wrestling?

I understand that some gay men and straight women might like to check out the greased up dancing dudes, and that’s cool. What if I just wanted to see a movie by the director of one of my favorite movies of the past 12 years? What if I have a thing for Olivia Munn? If a movie is good, I have no problem with seeing naked guys. It’s no different than straight women and gay men being subjected to the naked women who have proliferated movies for like… ever.

I hate it when I ramble… Here’s my point.

I think it’s time to stop assigning movies, people, songs, whatever to various groups. If I want to enjoy a Judy Garland movie, I should be able to without jokes and giggles. If a woman wants to go by herself to see some movie about football (Not a rom com that features football players) she should be able to without people throwing her a sideways eye. If a gay man wants to write a blog about hockey, he should be able to without fielding the numerous “but… I thought you were gay” questions. (Is that even a question?)

Of course, to make strides, we all have to play the game. We have to break down the walls of taboo.

We must go see fluffy ab-porn movies if they look remotely entertaining.

Just maybe not this one. Because it was dumb.

Coming Soon to the Blog: My Top 10 Broadway Musicals (I'm really throwing that gaydar for a loop today, I bet.

The Sex-Crazed Mormon Basketball Star

I promise not to use the phrases "tiger blood" or "duh, winning!" or "goddesses", Oh, and I promise doubly to not mention Charlie Sheen, or the drug of the same name.

I'm a big sports fan, and among my favorite sports, college basketball is near the top. Late last week, a really interesting situation arose at everyone's favorite Mormon University and their basketball team.

Brigham Young University's basketball team has been exceptionally good this season. Possibly the best they've ever been. They have a breakout star on the team, whose name is Jimmer. He's a scoring machine, and largely as a result of his dominance, BYU has shot up the national rankings.

Late last week, though, BYU kicked their 2nd best player, Brandon Davies, right the hell off the team. A move that significantly hinders their chances in the upcoming NCAA Tournament.

So, what did Davies do? He didn't assault a fellow student. He didn't cheat on an exam. He didn't get caught doing drugs. He didn't go to the Salt Lake City Zoo, murder a tiger, wear it's tiger pelt, and drink it's tiger blood (SHIT!!).

He had sex with his girlfriend. And then admitted to it.

Yup... That's all. Not to steal the comments of others, but all Davies did was exactly what I planned and hoped and plotted to do every minute of every second of college with any number of goddesses (DAMN!!) , except during the select few moments I succeeded.

Had there been a chance that this kind of thing could get me kicked out of school, or out of a play or whatever, I would have almost certainly risked it.

And here he owns up to his actions to his university, and they summarily remove him from his team, and threaten to remove him from the school.

The thing is... I think the school isn't wrong, exactly.

When a student goes to BYU, the rules are made crystal clear. You can not drink. You can not smoke. You can not consume drugs (including caffeine). You can not engage in pre-marital sex. Even with your serious girlfriend. These are known going in.

It's not like with me, at my job, when after 3 years of being paid a certain way, I was told that my whole pay structure was changing, and I could either accept it or find a new job. That's changing the rules after I'm waist deep in it.

Brandon Davies knew the rules before he decided to go to BYU. He knew them well enough that he told on himself after he broke the rules.

The rules are clear, the punishments are detailed beforehand. The school simply followed through with the ruling that they say was predetermined 100 years ago or whatever.

So, maybe the school wasn't wrong. Exactly. But I wonder if it's the right decision anyway.

I wonder if it's fair to the rest of the basketball team, and the dedicated fans who have longed for a successful team. I know in the military (at least in the movies), the actions of one soldier can result in the punishment of the whole unit. Is that legit? Wouldn't the argument be that poor Jimmer and the rest of team has had one goal for a whole season, which is, you know.. duh, winning, (FUCK!) and one horny player getting his rocks off with his girlfriend has potentially short circuited that goal.

I wonder if it's really fair to the student. Listen, I'm not saying that the oath they take is unimportant. I think it is important, but I also know how I was when I was 20. Promising not to have sex while I'm sitting in a sterile Dean's office signing an oath is a lot different than asking me to stand by that promise when I'm sitting on my couch watching some sexy movie with my sexy girlfriend. It's a lot to ask from a kid. Ask Charlie Sheen (CRAP!) how difficult self-restraint is. Maybe it is reasonable to ask, and maybe I'm cutting the kid too much slack, but what about the responsibility a school has to educate?

When I was a freshman, I was cut from a musical theater program for some reason or another, and was basically told that I needed to go to school somewhere else if I wanted to learn about what I cared about. I've always wondered if that was really serving the function of an institute of learning. If I was passionate, and willing to learn, and try to get better... how could they justify kicking me to the curb, even if I made mistakes.

Shouldn't the school give the kid a chance to correct himself? Isn't there a probation? Isn't there leniency to be had since he admitted it?

I dunno.. I see both sides, but I am also troubled by the situation on a human level. Logically, yes... Brandon Davies broke the rules that he knew were rules. He was basically punished exactly as expected. But damn... I feel for the poor horny kid who made a mistake that had it been any other kid at any other school, he would have simply exchanged high fives with his teammates.

I guess this is starting to head toward being more a "Are Mormons, or ANY religions for that matter, responsible to adjust their expectations to a more modern slant." Maybe it's not realistic anymore to expect a passionate celibacy.

But that's for another blog. That's what we call a teaser, because THAT'S how I roll.

My Favorite Theory. (A reprise)

Here's another one from the vault.

Original Subject: The Theory of Artistic Masturbation
Original Posting Date: 8/30/2005
Original Posting Site: Xanga

The Theory of Artistic Masturbation.

I know...I know...it sounds so scandalous, but really it isn't. I had a professor in college who told me that all literature was based on a combination of 3 things: Sex, Death, and Food. The more I thought about it, the more I realized he was right. Look back at all of the great works of literature in the history of the world, and you'll realize it's true...Hamlet? All three. The Odyssey? All three. The Bible? All Three...(I can defend if necessary.)

My theory has little to do with any of those things on a literal level, but I do believe that giving my theory a sex-related title makes people more likely to read about it.

So...here it is:


All art falls along a spectrum. Now, please remember that this is not a value judgement. All art has value and merit in it's own way. It just falls along a line. On one end of the spectrum there is art that I like to refer to as "Masturbatory Art" and on the other end there is art I call "Hooker Art".

The premise for this concept is that all art is categorized based on the relative affect it has on it's audience and on the artist. It's really that simple.

If a piece of art is more fulfilling to the audience than it is for the artist, that art leans toward the "Hooker Art" side of the spectrum. If a piece of art is more fulfilling for the artist than it is for the audience, that art is closer to the "Masturbatory Art" side.

What is masturbation? It's an act of self satisfaction. That's it. Some would call it a sin, some would call it a necessary part of life, and for the most part, everyone is right. It's a little bit sinful, and it's a little bit necessary, and the same goes for "masturbatory art". Whether I like it, or you like it, it's necessary in it's way. The tried and true example I've always used for this side of the spectrum is performance art.

For those who don't know, performance art is a genre of art where, more often than not, the artist is the medium for the piece. For example, I once saw a performance art "installation" that featured the artist taking his clothes off, and then writing racial slurs all over himself with a thick black sharpie marker. Oh...did I mention that the stage was dark, so you really couldn't see what he was doing or what he was writing?

Well...yeah...

See...this is what I'd call artistic masturbation. The artist trying to make himself feel better about the world, and trying to convince himself that he was deep and meaningful, and the audience being a true outsider to both the reasoning and the process. This was for him and him alone, and it really didn't matter if there even was an audience, because it's not for them anyway. It was a solitary act of...artistic catharsis, and it really isn't for me to interpret anyway.

Perhaps my favorite example of Masturbatory Art occured while I was visiting an artist friend of mine in Chicago. His name is Paul. He and I were walking toward his dorm in downtown Chicago, and we passed by this homeless person who was panhandling for money. I reached into my pocket for some change, because this was truly the homeless-est homeless person I had ever seen. Paul stopped me and said: "Don't give her any money."

This kind of threw me a little for 2 reasons..first, Paul had always been very generous with the homeless in the past, and second, I was pretty sure that the homeless person was a guy, and not a "Her" as he referenced.

I asked Paul about this, and this is what he told me: "You shouldn't give her any money, because she isn't homeless. That's a graduate student in performance art at SAIC (School at the Art Institute of Chicago), and she's doing her thesis."

Clearly this sounds crazy, but this girl got up at 6:30 every morning, put on the nastiest clothes she could find, covered herself in garbage and dirt and feces, and applied a fake beard, and commenced to pretend to be homeless for 8 hours a day. THIS WAS HER THESIS!!! For a while after this experience, I joked around about it, and I got a little indignant about it too, like "you can go to school for this? You can get a masters degree in this?" The anger has left me now, and has been replaced with appreciation, because I now have the greatest example of artistic masturbation EVER. The audience for her piece didn't even realize there was a piece. They just thought she was homeless. There wasn't any statement the audience was getting...they just got a whiff of stink. So...who benefitted from the art? Clearly, it wasn't the audience. I'm a firmly believe an audience can only appreciate art when they know there is art to be appreciated.

Now..."Hooker Art". What is the meaning of "Hooker Art"? Well, basically I had to come up with a term that would convey the polar opposite artistic value to Mastubatory art. A hooker is a person whose job, in it's entirety, is to please others, without any regard to themselves being fulfilled. I also like the second layer of meaning here, where money becomes the motivator for the artist, as opposed to the joy of making art.

In my theory, "Hooker Art" is art where the artist derives little fulfillment from the creation of that art. It's typically impersonal. Typically homogenized.

Some examples? Wedding photography, sitcoms, school portraits, pop music. "Hooker Art" is art that is ready for mass human consumption. Again, this isn't a value judgement of the artist. There are some amazing photographers who make a great living taking wedding photos, and even some of those wedding photos can be very beautiful. There is some really fun, catchy pop music. However, few wedding photographers would claim to be artistically fulfilled by it. Ask Jason Alexander (George Costanza in Seinfeld), why he did Seinfeld, and he'll say..."Well, I wasn't making any money starring on Broadway." Sitcoms are probably the most universal example of this form of art. There's nothing too deep or challenging, but the audience LOVES it, and the paycheck can't be beat. You'll see sitcom stars in other things, just absolutely killing themselves with effort, and perhaps they may get more spiritually, but nothing compares with that sitcom paycheck. Are we getting the idea?

Art for the artist = artistic masturbation

Art for the audience = artistic prostitution

Somewhere in the middle lies the ideal ground (in my opinion), where the artist and the audience both are satisfied equally. You'll often find things like "Shawshank Redemption" and The Rolling Stones and "Harry Potter" in this area. ****SEE NOTE **** The artist hasn't compromised their art, but the audience devours it anyway. I haven't found a good, universally acceptible term for the middle. As any theory, it's a theory in progress.

Ironically, since no one ever seems to read these things I write, I suppose this very essay would fall into the masturbatory category.


**** In the 3 years since I wrote this, I have since changed my mind about Harry Potter. I still like it. I'm still entertained. It's also created for the masses, and I do think Rowling compromised more than she'll admit. ****