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.

Lasers and the War of Northern Aggression

A couple weeks ago, the Tofu Muchacha had a "work thing" in Atlanta which ended on a Thursday. For whatever reason, we both concluded that this was a good opportunity for me to take a couple of days off and join her in the hot, muggy South for a few days of exploration.

I'd say that aside from likely permanant crippling at the hands of Raccoon Mountain, it was a delightful time full of beautiful scenery (you know all those signs as you're driving South on I-75 through Tennessee that say "See Rock City"? Well... you really should. It's pretty beautiful... in fact, oh... what the heck:
Cool, huh?

Anyway, we spent some time in Chattanooga, and then headed back South toward Atlanta with a slight veer to the East and stopped at Stone Mountain. It's hard to explain Stone Mountain, really...

On the one hand, it's this kind of amazing natural landmark. It's this giant-ass rock, really. Which doesn't sound all that interesting, but believe me.... Go stand next to an 850 foot rock some time, and tell me that shit doesn't blow your mind. It's FIVE MILES around. There's also this kind of incredible complex of trails and campgrounds and man-made lakes. There's the quarry where all of this awesome granite was... um... quarried for decades. It's really a beautiful place.

We get there, and we see also that you can ride this gondola up to the top of the giant rock (by "gondola" I mean this big almost train-car sized box that can accommodate probably close to 40 people at once.

So... We're riding the first car of the day up to the top, and over to the right side of the car (facing the mountain) is this HUGE relief sculpture carved into the side of the rock. I don't want to exaggerate this, but it's fucking big. And to myself I'm thinking "Weird... why do they have this sculpture of conquistadors carved into this mountain in Georgia."

My mental question was quickly answered, though, as the "Conductor" started his bit giving out info and trivial tidbits about things, and he says:

"Folks, if you'll look over, you'll get a great view of Civil War Heroes Robert E. Lee, Jefferson David, and Stonewall Jackson."

WHHHAAAAAA???

That's right. I unwittingly found myself at the fucking Confederate Mt. Rushmore. (Alternatively called "The Redneck Mt. Rushmore")
So yeah.. this is the view from the gondola, and there's the fucking "conquistators" who ended up being just this grand monument to racism and war.

Just fucking great.

So, you know... the rest of my day was sort of clouded by this odd realization that all of this money, and all of this energy was put toward the glorification of the wrong side of the Civil War. The place has a "Confederate Memorial Hall", for Dog's sake. Did you know this was the most visited single attraction in Georgia?

On the one hand, I get it.. you've got this incredible place that features views like this:

On the other hand, if you look closely at that picture, you'll see this long lawn area and a really beautiful old building there at the end of it? That's the fucking confederate hall. It's like they reel you in with this amazing place, and then they remind you how the whole thing is all about how bummed everyone is that there ain't no slaves no more.

The worst part... well... one of the worst parts is how popular the place seems to be among minorities. It was so eerie! One of the most racist, horrible places I've ever been was also one of the most diverse.

You'll ask me.. "How can it be all bad if there are so many minorities enjoying the place?"

I thought about this for a long time, and I think it's actually this that makes me feel like it's a totally irredeemable place. If they had just been all "Hell Yeah! Fuck you Yanks! Let's hear about the War of Northern Aggression!!! YEeeeeeeeee Hawww" well... I think this would have been better. Not good, certainly, but more honest at least.

Instead, we have this neutered little theme park with train rides and games and 4-D movies that all sort of pay only the tiniest bit of attention to the main point, and focuses instead on the glittery, shiny things all around the main point. They have this huge gravestone, essentially, even down to the granite relief carving, and it's honoring the men who are symbols for the last stand of the pro-slavery movement. The succession movement. These men aren't heroes. It's the same as honoring Mussolini or Franco after they'd been deposed. Didn't the Italian people drag Mussolini through the streets on a pig hook? They sure as hell didn't carve his face into the side of Mt. Vesuvius.

So it's this cute little friendly racism that is all "in the past", so now it's adorable instead of deplorable. It made me feel gross..

Of course, nothing made me feel more gross than the famous daily occurance...

The Mother Effing Laser Show.

That's right. At 9:30 every night these fools put on a laser lights show that talks all about Confederate history or whatever. Apparently I'm not the only person ever to think maybe the place lacks a little taste, because I've read that they added mention of Martin Luther King to bow to the rage of this small group of protesters.

I'm not a huge fan of laser shows or fireworks or whatever anyway, because I dislike crowds, but it would have barely mattered. We moseyed on down from our dinner (At the "Plantation" or something like that) about 90 minutes before the start of the lasers, and we saw this:

This was 90 minutes before the damned show. (Yes... they project the lasers right on The Redneck Rushmore itself).

We didn't stay for the lasers.

Look... I don't have anything else to say... Isn't it obvious anyway?

I'm sorry... am I wrong to be grossed out by this place? Am I wrong to wish they'd just left it this beautiful natural wonder and state park?

Next time: Indulging our Cats