Moviegoing Diaries: Magic Mike
Friday, July 20, 2012 at 1:00PM [Editor's note: We're toying with a new multi-author series about our experiences at the movie theater. We'll let Beau kick it off from the West Coast with Magic Mike.]
I blame Channing Tatum’s ass.
The date had been going along fine. He wasn’t terribly cute, but he was attractive. That’s a very important distinction. We both shared a similar affinity for film, both were heavily involved in productions in and outside of college. (He adored Soderbergh, I’m a Bergman and Ashby kind of guy. Come to think of it, I wonder what they thought of each other. Ashby being an addiction-ridden humanist hippie, Bergman being the son of a preacher man who’d engaged in more onscreen love affairs than Warren Beatty.) We’d already argued about Jeff Nichols’ Take Shelter, laughed heartily at the Pitch Perfect trailer, my reservations slowly subsiding, trying to remind myself to be open to the experience. (The Schizo Gay Cupid on dates is so frustrating.)
And then, the goddamn film started...
Engaging in a homo fantasy that doubled over as a surprisingly strong film (!), I found myself forgetting that I was on a semi-date. Attention was focused on the successes and failures of Tatum’s Mike, the arrogant absent-mindedness of Pettyfer, the wet blanket of Cody Horn and the organic fluidity of her beautiful, subtly heated exchange with Olivia Munn (playing Soderbergh’s Vera Farmiga surrogate - their characters in this and Up in the Air, respectively, could be celluloid blood relatives) you got wrapped up in the fantastical nature of it all. It made the fact that you were on a date with someone who didn’t wow you all the more frustrating; it’s a fantasy, dude. Magic Mike isn’t just chilling on a street corner waiting for you.
But, therein lies the damnable double-edged sword of good cinema. It can bring you into a beautiful fantasy, that makes you question your own reality.
The poor guy wasn’t prepared, and neither was I. We politely shook hands as we parted ways, I texted my girlfriend thanking her for introducing us, and suggesting that we may in the future become good film buds instead. The fluttering wasn’t there.
It’s so fucking hard to meet good men. It’s even harder when you find what you think may be one and hold out, because you still believe there’s a Magic Mike hanging around. I mean, Jesus, it’s what everyone else does. Right?
...maybe I should
Move to Florida
Become a stripper
Get a six pack (actually, not a bad idea)
Enjoy the ride.
California, Channing Tatum, LGBT, Magic Mike, moviegoing
Reader Comments (11)
Loved this story! I'm sure most of us can relate.
Channing Tatum's ass could solve all the world's problems, even as it causes the death of more hookups than asking the guy to what political persuasion/religion he belongs.
I LOVE this post, and so, so true. I sometimes think the character I most identify with is Meg Ryan in Sleepless in Seattle, when Rosie tells her, "A movie! That's your problem! You don't want to be in love. You want to be in love in a movie."
John T, I wanted to "like" your post, but that is EXACTLY how I feel sometimes. Same goes for the line later in the film "It's a sign that I have watched this movie too many times. Such stupid... " Nora could write about the struggle to find love and the pull between movie idealism and the often impossible reality.
Loved this post. Where are all the single men who love movies?
Patryk -- at the movies maybe?
leren goochelen trucs door het kopen van deze magische voor beginners 'collectie. Dit toont duidelijk aan hoe de trucs worden uitgevoerd door een vooraanstaand podium goochelaar.
Would it be ironic if I've watched this with my ex? I certainly felt weird even though I asked him to go see it with me. And we're both disappointed at the movie.
I thought I've found my Magic Mike, someone who's really into films and would be able to hold a discussion on a lot of different classics and new releases; someone who's intelligent AND extremely attractive. I've flirted (at least I think I did) big time with him, went out with him to the theatre a few times. Meanwhile he was not sure if I have a crush on him and was too scared to tell me he had a girlfriend all along after he's struggled with his sexuality. Then he moved in with his gf. I thought we could still be friends since we do have a common interest, but I guess he didn't think so. Oops, sorry, I've hijacked this forum and just vented like crazy. lol The fact is, reality is much more complicated, and that's why I tried to steer clear of movies that will give you an implausible happy ending because I know it's not going to come true.
I sometimes feel like I was born in the movies, just ended up here somehow.
The writer complains that "It's so fucking hard to meet good men" and yet it sounds like he met a good man--a good man he did not have chemistry with, but a good man nonetheless. I don't mean to be a bitch, but something about the tone of this entry irked me.
Not bitchy at all! You're probably right. It's that old addage of 'You always want what you can't have.' like I dismissed a good guy because he wasn't Channing Tatum. Or hate Take Shelter.
One of the earliest clues that I was in compatible, chemical, real movie love with my boyfriend was after watching Cedar Rapids, which we watched with a friend of mine. On the car ride home, when my friend asked why Anne Heche looked familiar, we were able to name, probably, every movie she was ever in.
A guy who's my equal in familiarity with the filmography of Anne Heche had to be the guy for me.