Not one of the greatest moments in film dance history or even soft porn fantasy, but a summer comedy high on male buffness and little in elegant dialogue. Bros on the road flick thanks to a roach coach transport, these "male entertainers" aka strippers decide to give it one last go before hanging up their thongs. Given that premise, there are girls to pleasure, rich WASPs to snog, and the latent young woman who is defiant and self-possessed who must be charmed by dance-man Channing Tatum. Although a better than average street dancer, Mr. Tatum is not the sole dance eye-candy. Trying to demonstrate that he is seeking a better and more normal life than that of gypsy strip king, Tatum's character runs a furniture design shop but hits the road with his buddies because of friendship.
Joe Mangienello is more vocal and takes second lead to make audiences drool with his parody of the Cindy Crawford Pepsi commercial of yore. Other men such as Matt Bommer add to the storyline but minimally as the story basically follows a Jada Pinkett-Smith/Tatum reunite, nevertheless, their chemistry lacking, the age difference remained too obvious to hold any interest. In fact, there are more ladies of a certain age (Andie MacDowell) throughout with the exception of Mrs. Johnny Depp, Amber Heard, who gets the dream role of a gymnastic lap dance from Tatum.
In the end, the guys get to strut, local ladies get a chance to toss dollar bills at some of the hunkiest actors in Hollywood, and the film ends with a happy group hug. The subtle homo-erotic interplay with the males keeps the film from becoming too estrogen-centric, and the ladies of size are also well represented in front and center stage antics. The representation of every and all makes this film PC, but at my screening, the theater was almost empty, and Anglo women 20- 50 the principal audience. It was hormonal fun, but not a lasting summer romance.
