July 9, 2012

Full Frontal Feminism

This hot, stale, non-breeze against my skin can only mean one thing: the season of the summer blockbuster is upon us. I know I haven’t done a movie review yet, per se, but if we’re being honest, the field is sorely lacking. Gene Siskel’s been dead forever, The Critic’s been off the air for years and Roger Ebert’s only got half of a goddamn face left. Message received, Jesus, message received.

It probably comes as no surprise to you that the only movie I’ve even kind of been sober enough to see once (three times) this summer is “Magic Mike” and as such, I think it’s time for a full-frontal review. Like the rest of you, I purchased tickets well in advance for the midnight premiere of the much-anticipated (at least in my ladycave) movie and like the rest of you, I won’t hesitate to say that I left nearly satisfied. That night I purchased the soundtrack and loaded Ginuwine’s “Pony” onto my iPhone and have yet to regret any of it.

I loved the movie, and not just because Channing Tatum could dance on my stepfather’s dead corpse and I wouldn’t mind. I won’t waste anyone’s time with a plot review (it was so gripping, by the way) or complaints that there weren’t enough junk shots (even though there weren’t). If we’re being honest, I didn’t go to “Magic Mike” for any of the above; I went because I’m a feminist. And you should go for the same reason (and also, the man dancing and flat-brimmed hats).

Before everyone goes bananas, allow me to delve deeper. I am, in no way, drawing a comparison between Steven Soderburgh and Eve Ensler nor do I consider Channing Tatum to be a slightly less masculine Jane Fonda. But I am all about equality. Women may not earn as much as their male counterparts; we may not be deemed intelligent enough to control our own reproductive destinies; and we certainly aren’t doing ourselves any favors keeping the Kartrashians on the air, but goddamnit, we finally have “Striptease” but with better looking and more age-appropriate dudes. And it’s about time.

Speaking of men, the dudes that aren’t in “Magic Mike” that is, their reactions varied a bit – and all left me more satisfied than most of them ever have. I mean, let us have a turn, guys. But, really. Please? My favorite guy-response to a tweet or drawn-out conversation or forced showing of “Magic Mike” was some homeboy assuming his hot and bothered lady would be more than ready to release her pent-up sexual desire for Channing Tatum as soon as she got home. Player, please. There’s an epidemic of pretty (and even normal-looking) bitches settling for what-the-fuck ever in this country and if your girlfriend saw the same “Magic Mike” that I did, she’ll do herself a favor and put a bag over your head while she’s thinking of Matthew McConaughey.

I know that might come off a bit harsh, but shut up, men. I know I’ve personally had to sit through “Basic Instinct” and that one movie with Jessie from “Saved By The Bell” and that was just with my Dad. I didn’t say one thing until I could safely record it into my boom box, Felicity-style. I just think ladies deserve a good time, even though “Magic Mike” isn’t getting us any closer to breaking the glass ceiling.

I mean. I never said I was Siskel or Ebert, did I? And votes for women! (and “Magic Mike”, too) 

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