Magic Mike XXL

We feared Magic Mike XXL, the follow-up to Steven Soderbergh’s 2012 original, would be a cynical cash-in that would do little more than cue Ginuwine’s squelchy sex jam, Pony, and have Channing Tatum strut his not-insignificant stuff.

I couldn’t have been more wrong. This isn’t so much a sequel as a companion piece, one that ventures into different territory and explores different ideas, all the while ramping up the crowd-pleasing sexiness of the first film. It’s dynamite.

In the three years since Tatum’s Mike hung up his ‘male entertainer’ G-string, his dreams of a stable relationship and a successful custom-furniture business haven’t really panned out.

So when he gets a call from his old comrades – Big Dick Richie (Joe Manganiello), Ken (Matt Bomer), Tito (Adam Rodriguez) and Tarzan (Kevin Nash) – who are taking “one last ride” to participate in a male stripper convention, he doesn’t need much convincing to tag along.

That’s pretty much it as far as the plot goes, but that’s okay because the joy of Magic Mike XXL is in the interaction between these guys, all of whom are terrifcally three-dimensional – sometimes silly and immature, sometimes sensitive, supportive and self-aware.

Not to mention the encounters they have along the way with a variety of lively, lusty, strong and shot-calling women, most notably Rome (Jada Pinkett Smith, who dominates the screen simply by walking into the frame), the operator of a club where the male performers cater to a clientele of “queens”.

Rome, and all that she has created and oversees, exemplifies what’s so good about Magic Mike XXL: this is a movie that talks simply but eloquently about the pursuit of happiness, whether that’s sexual satisfaction, creative expression, personal fulfilment or simply coming to terms with your own identity and your place in the world.

And it has a lot of good-looking people having a blast in various stages of undress. What’s not to like?