Matthew McConaughey: from rom-com prince to psychos and strippers

Matthew was once a Hollywood golden boy, the next big thing. He received a hot Vanity Fair cover--not always a good sign--sometimes that honor is like winning an Oscar
too early. He never quite lived up to the initial promise. In recent years he has become a poster boy for a certain kind of cheerful narcissism/exhibitionism. All that running around shirtless. And there was the laid back naked bongo-playing and pot smoking. It was amusing, but where was this actor going? He sure wasn't getting any younger. With the weekend release of "Magic Mike" now we know.

   

Yes, this is Channing Tatum's baby, loosely based on his brief teenage career as a stripper. And Mr. Tatum is very good--he seems to relax more with each movie. The movie itself, directed by Steven Soderbergh, is neither the cheesy flesh-bazaar so many were hoping for-- though there's plenty of flesh! Nor is it as satisfactorily dark as others expected. The two sides of the movie-- both appealing-- don't always mesh. (Stripper movies never quite get it right, except for the last 25 minutes of "Gypsy.")

But Matthew, as the owner of the strip club, who still keeps a six-pack on hand just to show the youngsters how it's done, is the real winner of "Magic Mike." He's a great big smirking, self-aware, funny, version of the glossy magazine creature he has become. He's more spray-tanned, more cocky, and definitively more stoned than he has ever been in public, but it comes across like an effortless non-performance, just a day in the life. And he also looks like he's having a ball on screen.

"Magic Mike" looks great, the dance scenes are sensational. The other young men who take it off--Matt Bomer, Alex Pettyfer, Joe Manganiello are all excellent. There's convincing work from some of the ladies, too, including Olivia Munn. But the movie belongs to Matthew McConaughey. With the right scripts, he can ease right into middle age more appealing and certainly more interesting than when he was the perpetually perspiring lawyer in 1996's "A Time To Kill." And as the deleted Stephen Sondheim song from Follies goes, "Can That Boy Fox Trot!"