For ‘Magic Mike’ crew, being sexy is a lot of work

‘It’s harder than anyone thinks for guys to actually be sexy.”

Channing Tatum (No. 50 on Empire magazine’s list of 100 Sexiest Movie Stars) was on the back patio at Cinema Bar in Culver City, commiserating with Matthew McConaughey (People magazine’s “Sexiest Man Alive” in 2005) and Joe Manganiello (No. 1 on Men’s Health magazine’s best Summer Bodies of 2011).

Although a heady cloud of easy charm and testosterone was forming spontaneously above the picnic table, slowly expanding and intoxicating any females in proximity, Tatum elicited enthusiastic nods from his fellow actors as he explained just how much work it takes for guys like them to be sexy—especially when they’re nearly naked. And oiled. And onstage. Gyrating.

“Girls can just do it, just walking.... Guys, it’s not the same thing. Especially when you put them in a thong,” Tatum insisted. “Everything you’re trying to do to be sexy makes you look like a clown. I challenge any guy to go and try to be sexy to his girl.... It’s a very humbling experience.”

Many a gaggle of gal-pal moviegoers will be happy to render a verdict on the issue not long from now, as the three bare nearly all in Steven Soderbergh’s male-stripper film Magic Mike. Inspired by Tatum’s brief turn in the world of exotic dancing in Tampa, Florida, in his late teens, Magic Mike features McConaughey as the male revue’s fire-breathing emcee, Manganiello as lady killer Big Dick Richie and Tatum as the show’s main attraction, Mike. On the surface and in trailers and other advertising, Magic Mike seems like nothing but a raucous bachelorette party relocated to a cinema. Soderbergh loads the front half of the film with copious amounts of fun, flesh and flamboyance. But the back half mellows into melancholy as Mike initiates a young dancer dubbed the Kid (Alex Pettyfer) into the troupe and the newcomer moves toward center stage.

Mike’s budding romance with the Kid’s sister (played by Cody Horn, daughter of new Disney studio chief Alan Horn) pushes him to re-examine his life choices.

Soderbergh sparked to the idea of a male stripper movie when he was filming Haywire with Tatum last year in Spain. “I told him about this eight-month period in my life, and he was like, ‘You’ve got to make that film.... You should write it for sure,’” Tatum recalled. “And I was like, ‘OK, Steven Soderbergh, I’ll get right on that.’”

Tatum’s producing partner, Reid Carolin, did get on it, penning a script, and the shoot came together quickly last fall as the prolific Soderbergh had a brief window of availability between his other projects. Carolin and Tatum, along with veteran Soderbergh producers Gregory Jacobs and Nick Wechsler, scraped together about $7 million, the director said, and embarked on a rapid 25-day shoot in Southern California and Tampa.

McConaughey, 45, said it didn’t take much for Soderbergh to persuade him to come aboard. “I got the call and talked to Steven, and within 10 minutes when he pitched it to me, I was on my knees in my kitchen, banging the floor, laughing,” he recalled. “I love the idea of these corny little sub-cultures and worlds, and Steven’s great at it.”

Manganiello, who’s well known as the werewolf Alcide Herveaux on the HBO series True Blood and recently played a buff object of envy in the movie What to Expect When You’re Expecting, was a bit more hesitant.

“The clothes come off a lot on True Blood so there was a sense of ‘OK, when am I going to have my shirt on again?’” Manganiello, 35, said. The actor said he consulted his What to Expect co-star Chris Rock on the decision, telling him, “I don’t know, because my shirt’s off again, and I just think dudes are going to hate my guts if I don’t put a shirt on soon. And Chris was like, ‘Guys are going to hate your guts anyway. Brad Pitt spent 15 years with his shirt off. He’s doing fine.’”

With the cast in place, learning the choreography was the next major hurdle. Alison Faulk, who has worked with the likes of Madonna, Britney Spears and Pink, designed the routines—everything from a trench coats-and-umbrellas dance performed to “It’s Raining Men” to a classic fireman-in-suspenders number.

“I’d never danced,” said McConaughey, who also sings in the film. “We know one thing, it ends up with clothes off. I was thinking, there will never be enough time. I could rehearse this thing for 10 years.”

Even the experienced Tatum, 32, confessed to nerves. “I’m about to go on stage and dance for the first time, and I’m like, ‘Why did I want to do this again? This is completely not what I remembered.’ I was terrified.”

But once onstage, the actors said, a pleasurable trance sets in. “You’ve got anxiety, there’s fear, but you’ve got pride and you’re like, man, I worked this, I want to nail this,” McConaughey said.

It’s the coming off stage, said Manganiello, that’s more painful. “For me, it was like coming out of a blackout. You get up there, you do this thing, and then it was like waking up the next morning covered in blood and having no recollection of what the hell you just did,” he explained. “You’re sitting backstage after your routine, in a thong, sweating, the music is over, you’re just sitting there alone in silence...going ‘What did I just do? People are going to see this!’”

The dozens of women who got to play bit parts as club patrons were more satisfied than your typical group of extras, Soderbergh laughed. “The first time we shot [the ‘Raining Men’ routine], it was with 110 extras. These women were very happy. We had a lot of return extras—like 96 percent, which is unheard of on a movie.”

At one point, one woman got a bit overzealous and reached for McConaughey’s thong. “I remember feeling it go boom,” he said, “and just as the cool draft was going a little further than it had been, I went, ‘Oh, yep,’ and tucked into a roll.”

“He was kind of asking for it,” Soderbergh said. “That was entrapment. He was provoking them.”

Magic Mike is hardly McConaughey’s only provocative role this year. Moviegoers will next see him as a hit man in William Friedkin’s NC-17 rated Killer Joe, and later in the year he’ll turn up as an enigmatic vagabond in Jeff Nichols’s Mud and as a kinky newspaperman in Lee Daniels’s The Paperboy.

Tatum has been busy too. Besides appearing in Haywire, he’s already had two blockbusters in very different genres this year—The Vow (a romance) and 21 Jump Street (a buddy comedy). It’s a far cry from his days as a dancer in Tampa, when Tatum said he typically took home about $150 a night. Although his character in Magic Mike spends more than six years dancing, Tatum in reality lasted less than a year in the male revue.

“You get in at 18, and halfway through 19 you look around and you’re like, ‘Man, I don’t want to do this.’ I never really enjoyed taking my clothes off. That was a weird thing,” he said. “I really enjoyed the dancing, the performance of it all, the craziness of the life. But I would always take my pants off and run off stage.”

As the Kid becomes more central to the troupe, Mike realizes that he wants out of the club scene. He has dreams of running his own custom furniture business. “I think everyone’s been in a situation where they’re like, ‘What do I do now? What do I do with my life?’” said Tatum.

It’s certainly a theme that struck a chord with Soderbergh, who has been saying for years that he wanted to exit the filmmaking world and engage in other artistic pursuits. Now 49, he insists that Magic Mike will be followed by just two more movies—The Bitter Pill, about a woman who develops a prescription medication habit, also featuring Tatum, which recently wrapped filming; and a Liberace biopic with Michael Douglas that starts production in July. After that, he plans to write a book and stage at least one play.

“The Kid is kind of a mirror for Mike,” said Soderbergh. “As a result, he starts to reconsider where he is. He thinks the Kid is like him, but then realizes that he’s not. The more he sees of it, the more he needs to make a change.”

“Obviously, this is really my change too. It’s just time to reboot.”

In Photo: Channing Tatum, Matthew McConaughey and Joe Manganiello admit to a few nerves on the set of Steven Soderbergh’s male-stripper-centric film.

View the original article here

Magic Mike: The Sexy, Sad Lies We Tell Ourselves

Channing Tatum, Matthew McConaughey and boyish Brit Alex Pettyfer bare more than their bottoms in Steven Soderbergh's morality tale (Left to right) MATT BOMER as Ken, CHANNING TATUM as Mike, ADAM RODRIGUEZ as Tito, and JOE MANGANIELLO as Big Dick Richie in Warner Bros.' ??Magic Mike.

Year: 2012

Director: Steven Soderbergh

Studio: Warner Bros. Pictures

Actors: Channing Tatum, Matthew McConaughey, Alex Pettyfer

Just how good a stripper is Channing Tatum? At the Magic Mike screening I attended, there weren’t just wives but also husbands applauding his eye-popping stage routines. I may or may not have been one of them.

Rarely do you see an actor harness such physical energy on the screen, much less dance at this level of intensity while converting raw muscle mass into raging sex appeal. But Tatum is the real McCoy, oozing charisma here as a one-man firestorm who plays along with the strip club script (embodying firemen, construction workers, soldiers, rappers) before erupting into a blur of breakdancing, groin thrusts and flying clothing. For a short time earlier in his life, Tatum was, in fact, a stripper and his confidence is palpable. There are sequences here so electrifying and infectious that it’s easy to see why Warner Bros. (a division of Time Warner Inc.) devised a marketing campaign built entirely around a greased-up Tatum and Matthew McConaughey regaling hordes of screaming women. But in reality, Magic Mike is far less interested in those spotlighted abs than in the lies we tell ourselves in and around that stage. As he’s proven throughout his career, director Steven Soderbergh is intrigued by the shifting moral limits that influence our decisions, and it’s outside the confines of this Florida club where Magic Mike makes its most provocative statements.

Mike (Tatum) and Adam (Alex Pettyfer) are two strippers at opposite ends of their career. Mike is the established pro, the 30-year-old headliner of a Tampa all-male revue who knows exactly how to work the crowd, and, far more importantly, rustle up new business from the mainstream bar next door. Adam is the outsider who is introduced to Mike on a construction job — an aimless 19-year-old couch surfer who is sick of being broke, living with his sister, and overcoming a botched football career.

(READ: Richard Corliss’s review of 21 Jump Street)

It’s Mike who brings Adam into the revue, giving the broke guy a chance to earn a few quick bucks running props (and penis pumps) backstage. But when one of the pros collapses that first evening, leaving a hole in the night’s program, wrangler/owner Dallas (McConaughey) gives the insecure young hunk the chance to be a star. In stark contrast to Mike’s whirling theatrics, Adam plods down the stage with little finesse. But his chest is toned, and the girls are quick with the cash and three months down the line, Adam the Stripper is thanking Mike for bringing all this fast money and these easy women into his world.

If Adam lies to himself about his job by boasting that at least he’s finally paying rent and getting laid, Mike’s inner rationalization is that he’s less an erotic dancer than an “entrepreneur” engaged in raising capital. He meticulously straightens every last dollar bill that he earns on the stage, and stockpiles his savings in hopes of launching a handmade furniture company (appropriately enough, we never really see him craft any furniture). When he’s not dancing, Mike is also helping Dallas to manage the club’s books, or telling his boss about his dream of having equity in the business when the small-time strip joint makes its long-anticipated move to the prime time of Miami Beach.

Mike is as bold a dreamer as he is a dancer, and Soderbergh (who also worked with Tatum on Haywire) ensures that we spend enough time amid his swagger before we witness him come crashing back to Earth. Magic’s extended reality check begins when he’s turned down for a small business loan. Despite his sizable wad of cash, and his charming demeanor, his credit score doesn’t mesh with his flushed loan officer’s regulations. Mike’s introspection escalates when he meet’s Adam’s sister Brooke (newcomer Cody Horn). She finds Mike charming and exciting, but is also worried about the lifestyle that he’s leading Adam into — and utterly incapable of looking beyond his profession.

(READ: Richard Corliss’s review of Haywire, another Soderbergh/Tatum collaboration)

That professional isolation is reflected in just about every aspect of Mike’s life. In between colorful, exuberant and deliberately cheesy strip-show sequences, Soderbergh gradually plunges the viewer deeper into Mike’s closed bubble of reality. His evenings are all business on the stage, followed by wild parties with his anonymous customers. His days are spent shaking off hangovers or partying with his co-workers. We see how his job comes to define his life and shield him from alternative points of view. In Brooke, though, Mike finds someone who questions his routines, his business partnerships, and his general lack of entrepreneurial progress.

Tatum marshals a breakthrough performance in Magic Mike. That he commands the screen as seducer and performer is hardly a surprise, given his turns in Step Up and The Vow, but more notable is his quiet charm and insecurity as he works to impress Brooke. The film’s shortfall is its lack of story arc, or emotional transformation. Divided into three monthly chapters, Magic Mike makes abrupt hard turns that tend to bypass pivotal emotional revelations. Clarity comes a bit too quickly to Mike, though Tatum does the best with what he’s given to preserve a character study from derailing into emotional turmoil.

Where the film thrives, though, is in its dissection of a sexually charged atmosphere. Indeed, the most subversive facet of Soderbergh’s approach to the subject matter is the way he slowly inoculates us to the “magic” of Club Xquisite. At first electrifying, Mike’s stage performances become increasingly predictable and then almost routine, as we begin to see beyond the seductive performance to the repetitive, almost mechanical movements underneath. It’s not that the paying customers are displeased — they clearly relish the escape, and seem happy with their purchase — but just that we can see more easily through the façade. The same goes for Brooke, Dallas and, eventually, Mike himself. And though Tatum’s moves will put butts in the seats, it’s his blues that brings a surprisingly dramatic twist to all that sweaty flesh.

MORE: Channing Tatum on SNL

View the original article here

Channing Tatum Too Sexy for Shirt, Pants in NSFW 'Magic Mike' Trailer

If your complaints about the old Magic Mike trailers were along the lines of "there's not enough nudity for this trailer of a stripper movie," then the new one minute red-band trailer is just for you.

RELATED: Your Babies Will Be Baffled by Magazines

The new red-band trailer opens the same way the original did, at a party full of girls with two cops reporting a noise complaint. Except they're not cops! And this time, instead of cutting to black when Tatum rips his pants off, you get to see his bum. "We Found Love" still plays in the background, but at only a minute long it doesn't get into as much of the plot as previous trailers. This is the one that lets you know, in case you were worried, that Magic Mike will have real, live nudity. We do get a glimpse of Tatum's Mike talking with Riley Keough's Zora about why he does what he strips ("It’s easy -- women, money and a good time.").

RELATED: The '$ellebrity' Trailer Tells Another Paparazzi Story

So, you know, be aware that there is a lot of nudity in this before you watch it: 

RELATED: Ira Glass After Dark; The Muppet Invasion Begins

View the original article here

'Magic Mike': Soderbergh brings sexy back to film

Steven Soderbergh likes to make movies about sex. But then, why on earth wouldn't he? It's an awfully good way to get — and keep — people's attention.

It's what he did back in 1989 in the first movie where we came to know him — "Sex, Lies and Videotape," an acutely observant comedy about an impotent filmmaker who raises unholy hell by filming women talking with shocking intimacy about their sex lives.

He won the grand prize at Cannes for that baby. A guy could find that encouraging, eh what?

One Soderbergh movie in which nothing special justified the titillating title was called "Full Frontal." Another one — about the life and times and a Manhattan call girl — was called "The Girlfriend Experience" and starred porn star Sasha Grey.

That, no doubt, is the one Channing Tatum remembered when he first bent Soderbergh's ear with his long-term efforts to get a film made of his early life as a young male stripper named Chan Crawford in Tampa.

Smart kid, that Tatum. Soderbergh knew it. If ever there was a movie that could score big with women on Girls' Night Out — and with gays on Gays' Night Out — it's a movie about a bunch of artfully lit male strippers bumping and grinding and shoving abs and pecs and pelvises into the faces and other parts of whooping, applauding and guffawing women.

That movie is "Magic Mike." And since Tatum and Soderbergh are no fools in the box office department, there's plenty of male anatomy making both intimate contact in "Magic Mike" and less intimate contact (including the full frontal silhouette of a dancer in the male strip club's troupe whose nickname refers to his oversized contribution to the ensemble).

But Soderbergh is too mature and too good a filmmaker to be making an upscale beefcake movie that is nothing but an upscale beefcake movie.

So what you've got here is a funny and rather brilliantly filmed (digitally by Soderbergh acting as his own cinematographer under the name Peter Andrews) tale of one underside of the sex business — the exhibitionism for fun and profit side. Needless to say, it all turns ugly and dangerous, as undersides usually do, when drugs enter the picture.

The screenwriter is a fellow named Reid Carolin who is a friend of Tatum's and the producer of Tatum's high school reunion film "10 Years," but is also the writer of a film called "Earth Made of Glass," a documentary about the aftermath of Rwandan genocide.

Just as "Boogie Nights" — a much better movie to be sure — was about innocence that couldn't help playing with fire, "Magic Mike" is about the veteran stripper named Mike who shows a muscular young kid named Adam the ropes in the pelvic thrust trade and protects him until the kid goes into the Ecstasy business and learns how little ecstasy (small E) is possessed by those in the business of moving illegal drugs in massive quantities.

Mike (Tatum) had promised Adam's sister that he'd protect the kid, but a rule of thumb in life is that there's nothing harder than protecting really stupid kids from the consequences of their own stupidity.

And that's, if you ask me, the most interesting thing of all about "Magic Mike," the good and well-advertised movie with the oh-so-canny advertising campaign.

Playing Adam's ever-watchful sister is an extraordinarily lovely young woman named Cody Horn, who just happens to be the daughter of Alan F. Horn, president and COO of Warner Brothers.

If you think then that Horn's full frontal self can be found amid all the excess of uncovered female flesh adorning the screen before "Magic Mike" hangs up its thong, you've been hanging out with too many Adams of your own acquaintance. You can see her wearing short shorts and a decorous Tampa bikini (when in Rome), but there's no way that Soderbergh is going to play fast and loose with Daddy's little girl on screen when Daddy is a studio boss.

Instead, he gives her face the kind of adoring "Do I Recognize Beauty or What?" treatment that he gave Natasha McElhone's face in the otherwise misguided American version of Andrei Tarkovsky's "Solaris."

Soderbergh, in fact, is pretty careful all the way through here considering that the movie is about a club where the smarmy owner/emcee (Matthew McConaughey) lays down the audience laws for his female customers — including all the body contact prohibited by law — and then observes "I think a see a lot of lawbreakers out there."

You've seen that snippet in TV commercials. It's followed up by the line in the movie "and there's not a cop in sight."

In a movie like "Magic Mike" — full of epidermal display and the frequent consequences of life lived on show business' carnal fringe — there doesn't have to be when the director and the star are smart enough to rejoice in the display for the maddened crowd but to leave the nasty consequences in.

At one point in "Magic Mike," Mike's most frequent after-hours hookup — played by Olivia Munn — wants to leave after an evening of pleasure even though Mike wants her to stick around and talk. After all, she's an indentured psychologist, right?

"You don't need to talk," she tells him. "Just look pretty."

After enough evenings like that, a successful Hollywood actor in the beefcake trade might want to find a really good director who'll let him talk a little and be good doing it.

And if he found a director like Soderbergh along the way, he'd be awfully lucky.

jsimon@buffnews.comnull

View the original article here

Magic Mike: The Sexy, Sad Lies We Tell Ourselves

Channing Tatum, Matthew McConaughey and boyish Brit Alex Pettyfer bare more than their bottoms in Steven Soderbergh's morality tale (Left to right) MATT BOMER as Ken, CHANNING TATUM as Mike, ADAM RODRIGUEZ as Tito, and JOE MANGANIELLO as Big Dick Richie in Warner Bros.' ??Magic Mike.

Year: 2012

Director: Steven Soderbergh

Studio: Warner Bros. Pictures

Actors: Channing Tatum, Matthew McConaughey, Alex Pettyfer

Just how good a stripper is Channing Tatum? At the Magic Mike screening I attended, there weren’t just wives but also husbands applauding his eye-popping stage routines. I may or may not have been one of them.

Rarely do you see an actor harness such physical energy on the screen, much less dance at this level of intensity while converting raw muscle mass into raging sex appeal. But Tatum is the real McCoy, oozing charisma here as a one-man firestorm who plays along with the strip club script (embodying firemen, construction workers, soldiers, rappers) before erupting into a blur of breakdancing, groin thrusts and flying clothing. For a short time earlier in his life, Tatum was, in fact, a stripper and his confidence is palpable. There are sequences here so electrifying and infectious that it’s easy to see why Warner Bros. (a division of Time Warner Inc.) devised a marketing campaign built entirely around a greased-up Tatum and Matthew McConaughey regaling hordes of screaming women. But in reality, Magic Mike is far less interested in those spotlighted abs than in the lies we tell ourselves in and around that stage. As he’s proven throughout his career, director Steven Soderbergh is intrigued by the shifting moral limits that influence our decisions, and it’s outside the confines of this Florida club where Magic Mike makes its most provocative statements.

Mike (Tatum) and Adam (Alex Pettyfer) are two strippers at opposite ends of their career. Mike is the established pro, the 30-year-old headliner of a Tampa all-male revue who knows exactly how to work the crowd, and, far more importantly, rustle up new business from the mainstream bar next door. Adam is the outsider who is introduced to Mike on a construction job — an aimless 19-year-old couch surfer who is sick of being broke, living with his sister, and overcoming a botched football career.

(READ: Richard Corliss’s review of 21 Jump Street)

It’s Mike who brings Adam into the revue, giving the broke guy a chance to earn a few quick bucks running props (and penis pumps) backstage. But when one of the pros collapses that first evening, leaving a hole in the night’s program, wrangler/owner Dallas (McConaughey) gives the insecure young hunk the chance to be a star. In stark contrast to Mike’s whirling theatrics, Adam plods down the stage with little finesse. But his chest is toned, and the girls are quick with the cash and three months down the line, Adam the Stripper is thanking Mike for bringing all this fast money and these easy women into his world.

If Adam lies to himself about his job by boasting that at least he’s finally paying rent and getting laid, Mike’s inner rationalization is that he’s less an erotic dancer than an “entrepreneur” engaged in raising capital. He meticulously straightens every last dollar bill that he earns on the stage, and stockpiles his savings in hopes of launching a handmade furniture company (appropriately enough, we never really see him craft any furniture). When he’s not dancing, Mike is also helping Dallas to manage the club’s books, or telling his boss about his dream of having equity in the business when the small-time strip joint makes its long-anticipated move to the prime time of Miami Beach.

Mike is as bold a dreamer as he is a dancer, and Soderbergh (who also worked with Tatum on Haywire) ensures that we spend enough time amid his swagger before we witness him come crashing back to Earth. Magic’s extended reality check begins when he’s turned down for a small business loan. Despite his sizable wad of cash, and his charming demeanor, his credit score doesn’t mesh with his flushed loan officer’s regulations. Mike’s introspection escalates when he meet’s Adam’s sister Brooke (newcomer Cody Horn). She finds Mike charming and exciting, but is also worried about the lifestyle that he’s leading Adam into — and utterly incapable of looking beyond his profession.

(READ: Richard Corliss’s review of Haywire, another Soderbergh/Tatum collaboration)

That professional isolation is reflected in just about every aspect of Mike’s life. In between colorful, exuberant and deliberately cheesy strip-show sequences, Soderbergh gradually plunges the viewer deeper into Mike’s closed bubble of reality. His evenings are all business on the stage, followed by wild parties with his anonymous customers. His days are spent shaking off hangovers or partying with his co-workers. We see how his job comes to define his life and shield him from alternative points of view. In Brooke, though, Mike finds someone who questions his routines, his business partnerships, and his general lack of entrepreneurial progress.

Tatum marshals a breakthrough performance in Magic Mike. That he commands the screen as seducer and performer is hardly a surprise, given his turns in Step Up and The Vow, but more notable is his quiet charm and insecurity as he works to impress Brooke. The film’s shortfall is its lack of story arc, or emotional transformation. Divided into three monthly chapters, Magic Mike makes abrupt hard turns that tend to bypass pivotal emotional revelations. Clarity comes a bit too quickly to Mike, though Tatum does the best with what he’s given to preserve a character study from derailing into emotional turmoil.

Where the film thrives, though, is in its dissection of a sexually charged atmosphere. Indeed, the most subversive facet of Soderbergh’s approach to the subject matter is the way he slowly inoculates us to the “magic” of Club Xquisite. At first electrifying, Mike’s stage performances become increasingly predictable and then almost routine, as we begin to see beyond the seductive performance to the repetitive, almost mechanical movements underneath. It’s not that the paying customers are displeased — they clearly relish the escape, and seem happy with their purchase — but just that we can see more easily through the façade. The same goes for Brooke, Dallas and, eventually, Mike himself. And though Tatum’s moves will put butts in the seats, it’s his blues that brings a surprisingly dramatic twist to all that sweaty flesh.

MORE: Channing Tatum on SNL

View the original article here

Channing Tatum Too Sexy for Shirt, Pants in NSFW 'Magic Mike' Trailer

If your complaints about the old Magic Mike trailers were along the lines of "there's not enough nudity for this trailer of a stripper movie," then the new one minute red-band trailer is just for you.

RELATED: Your Babies Will Be Baffled by Magazines

The new red-band trailer opens the same way the original did, at a party full of girls with two cops reporting a noise complaint. Except they're not cops! And this time, instead of cutting to black when Tatum rips his pants off, you get to see his bum. "We Found Love" still plays in the background, but at only a minute long it doesn't get into as much of the plot as previous trailers. This is the one that lets you know, in case you were worried, that Magic Mike will have real, live nudity. We do get a glimpse of Tatum's Mike talking with Riley Keough's Zora about why he does what he strips ("It’s easy -- women, money and a good time.").

RELATED: The '$ellebrity' Trailer Tells Another Paparazzi Story

So, you know, be aware that there is a lot of nudity in this before you watch it: 

RELATED: Ira Glass After Dark; The Muppet Invasion Begins

View the original article here

Channing Tatum Too Sexy for Shirt, Pants in NSFW 'Magic Mike' Trailer

If your complaints about the old Magic Mike trailers were along the lines of "there's not enough nudity for this trailer of a stripper movie," then the new one minute red-band trailer is just for you.

The new red-band trailer opens the same way the original did, at a party full of girls with two cops reporting a noise complaint. Except they're not cops! And this time, instead of cutting to black when Tatum rips his pants off, you get to see his bum. "We Found Love" still plays in the background, but at only a minute long it doesn't get into as much of the plot as previous trailers. This is the one that lets you know, in case you were worried, that Magic Mike will have real, live nudity. We do get a glimpse of Tatum's Mike talking with Riley Keough's Zora about why he does what he strips ("It’s easy -- women, money and a good time.").

So, you know, be aware that there is a lot of nudity in this before you watch it: 

Want to add to this story? Let us know in comments or send an email to the author at connorbsimpson at gmail dot com. You can share ideas for stories on the Open Wire.

View the original article here