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Myrtle Beach is where the boys are in Magic Mike XXL. The sequel to Steven Soderbergh's 2012 Magic Mike is directed by his long-time Assistant Director Gregory Jacobs, who worked on the first Magic Mike film. Soderbergh did cinematography for the first time on this film and, while it has perfect focus, I found most outdoor shots overly lit and most indoor shots too dark.
Channing Tatum still has a hot bod for sure. And that comes into play in the stripper scenes. Is there one amongst us who'd kick him out of bed?
Jacobs has a secure handle on the film though it feels like an outline in search of a script. Much of the dialogue is obviously improvised. While the cast is generally sturdy, they're not Second City people and, sadly, it shows. Just give us some muscle, boys! A script with dialogue would really have helped.
Did you know Jada Pinkett Smith is in this? One of the few surprises this film offers. Most of it feels very gratuitous and, unlike the first Magic Mike film, not a serious look at the industry.
The main reason to see Magic Mike XXL is to see Channing Tatum in all his glory. He truly is beautiful. And a good actor as well. That is my sole recommendation for seeing this film. But maybe that's enough. Magic Mike isn't really XXL this time around; I'll give him an M.
The venue: My friend Kevin's apartment downstairs. The menu: Champagne, fresh guacamole and baked, unsalted chips (to make it seem more West Coast), fresh jumbo shrimp with cocktail sauce, cheese and salami slices, M&Ms . Yes, once again, last night was Oscar night in New York (a/k/a The Gay Man's Superbowl)!
Well, there was an awfully long red carpet time from 6:30, when we started watching on tv. We switched from Piers Morgan (who I have a thing for) on CNN to pygmy hosts, Kristin Chenoweth and Jess Cagle, on ABC. I'm not quite 5'6" myself, so I say that with fondness. When the petite Chenoweth stood next to Adele (again looking oddly like an overstuffed chair, this time black with deco sparkles), I prayed Britain's big gal wouldn't topple over on our vivacious munchkin.
Then there was the Oscars' own official 1/2-hour red carpet presentation. Red carpets are like foreplay. But red carpet time is also the time we all become fashionistas as we ogle the gowns, always a fetishistic point of glamor at the Academy Awards.
I liked a lot of last night's frocks: Reese, Jennifer Lawrence (winner for Best Actress), Amy Adams all looked smashing. Jane Fonda was yummy in yellow. Sally Field not so much in red. Jennifer Aniston arrived with the same look, different boyfriend.
Anne Hathaway was given short shrift by Piers on CNN for someone more interesting. Her gown & necklace? Ewwwww! She did, however, snag the Best Supporting Actress Award by night's end. Dustin Hoffman arrived with hair that appeared to be made up of laundry lint while Daniel Day-Lewis, who walked away with the Best Actor Oscar (presented by Meryl Streep in a tin-foil gown), deserved a Best Hair Style award as well.
Renee Zelweger was a mess in her dress, but nothing looks good on someone who squints more than a pirate!
Once host Seth MacFarlane came onstage, inside the (Friends of) Dorothy Chandler Pavilion to officially introduce the Academy Awards, I surrendered to his charms; tall, dark and clean-cut good looks; humor and talent. He was truly the star of the evening and a revelation. His dialogue with William Shatner as Cpt James T. Kirk may have run on a bit too long but I forgave him his indulgences as he proved to be a wonderful song and dance man as well as a comic. Who knew? He was Hollywood's secret weapon, and he even had L.A.'s Gay Men's Chorus backing him up!
I had sweet dreams after last night's Oscars. Piers, Seth, Daniel Day-Lewis' hair and Channing Tatum!
But, in a night where musicals were a big focus, the divas truly ruled! Shirley Bassey -- introduced by Bond Girl Halle Berry -- was magnificent in a taut face and golden gown, as she belted out "Goldfinger" as if she were singing for her life. Adele sang "Skyfall" wonderfully, and was such a sweetie-pie, tearful while receiving the Best Original Song award. Jennifer Hudson was also sensational, singing "And I Am Telling You" from Dreamgirls in the musicals tribute portion of the show.
And then there was Barbra. In the I-See-Dead-People portion of the show (that egregiously left out Phyllis Diller) hosted by George Clooney, Babs sang "The Way We Were," honoring Marvin Hamlisch. She appeared to be wearing Adele's gown, which perhaps explains why it was falling from her shoulders as she tried to top Dame Bassey's performance. She did not quite succeed.
The Rockerfeller Center tree is up and New York City is aglow with more lights than usual because it's holiday season. Such a happy time of year but equally tragic when all the lights and decorations are taken down shortly after the new year. I am currently reminded, however, that as tomorrow is December 1st, it's time to compose my Christmas list for that hunky Mr Santa Claus, envisioned by moi as seen above. Love the sparklers, and I hear he's got a big roman candle to boot!
As for presenting dear Santa with my Christmas list, I so so so want the Joan Crawford and Mommie Dearest wallets from Rainbows & Triangles in Chelsea (pictured amongst the collection at right). But, modestly priced, I could easily purchase them myself; no need to bother Mr Claus.
There's the pricey little leopard-skin print Christopher Radko-designed Cyndi Lauper Christmas ball at Bloomingdale's that would be perfect for my tree. And there's the sexy John Varvados scarf for $248 plus tax that I'm qvelling over. Of course, Santa, since you won't be staying after you've tasted my cookies and milk (busy guy that you are, going up and down my chimney), you could always leave me one of my five currently most fabulous men, tied up with a big bow on top.
Well, there's the tall, Irish-looking, redhead personal trainer (I imagine, since he's always wearing spiffy athletic gear to work with no apparent change of outfit) with the humungous sneakers. And there's the Slavic guy with chiseled features, stubble and sexy dark eyes who always wears fatigues and a trendy scarf this time of year. I usually see at least one of these hotties on my morning commute. Unfortunately, I can't Google their images for the prurient interest of my gentle readers. But, Santa, you know who I mean and should add them as Fabulous Men numbers 6 and 7, thank you.
But now, I turn to more well-known men to comprise the Top 5 on my Christmas List:
#3: Daniel Craig. 007? Yes. Stirred, not shaken. Is that a pistol in his pocket or is he just happy it's Christmas? He could make the earth move under my sheet... and the sky fall! Good to see him back in action (on the big screen, I mean) with buns as hard as steel. Surly, scruffy British guys are my weakness. Well, one of my weaknesses!
#4: Cheyenne Jackson.
I really don't have to explain him, do I?
#5: Ricky Martin. He looks better with age and even sexier since coming out.
Hot stuff for cold weather.
So, if anyone reading this wants to be my secret Santa and send me one (or more) of these five Fabulous Men, please feel free in the crazy spirit of the season. Any of the above would be the gift that keeps on giving. Hopefully! Please include a magnum of quality champagne and flutes (glass, not plastic). Otherwise, the John Varvados scarf and Radko Christmas ornament will do nicely.
Merry Christmas. I love you, Santa!
In conclusion, I'll turn things over to The Weather Girls in their 1983 video:
