Magic Mike Reviews, Steven Soderbergh is doing something that some of our finest old-time directors used to do, the Howard Hawkses, the William Wellmans. He’s not trying to make a few great movies. He’s trying to make a whole lot of good movies, in lots of genres, and to make them better than anybody else. And the result is that Soderbergh is going to end up directing more great movies by accident than his colleagues will by trying.

Which brings us to “Magic Mike,” a mix of comedy and drama that takes place in the world of male stripping. If it falls short of greatness, it’s not by much – and it could end up growing with the years. At the very least, it is exceptional and one of the best and most original pictures to come along in 2012.

It stars red-hot Channing Tatum in the title role, and if ever there was a movie sure to solidify an up-and-coming star’s place in the public’s affections, it’s this one. Tatum has steadiness and strength, a reflective quality that makes you think he cares, and the hint of a smile that lets you believe he doesn’t think he’s all that much, not really. He has that double thing going on that male stars need: Women will say, “Ooh, him,” and men will think, “That is a real guy.”

He also has enough moves – backflips, gyrations and fluid pelvic undulations – that he could become the world’s premier stripper tomorrow, if he wanted to take a pay cut.

The story revolves around a friendship between the 30ish Mike and a 19-year-old kid, Adam (Alex Pettyfer), that he meets on a construction job. The kid needs money, so Mike brings him to the strip club to do menial work. But lucky Adam happens to have a six-pack, and next thing you know he’s in the rotation and living the life – with all the awakened, rapacious hunger and common sense that we associate with teenage boys.

“Magic Mike” brings the viewer into that world, just as it brings Adam, and shows a life of nonstop fun and laughs. It’s a safe bet that, after seeing this movie, young men all over America will start doubling down on the sit-ups. Every night, there’s a performance, followed by a party, followed by at least one woman coming home with our young hero. In this life, a king-size bed is a practical necessity. (San Francisco Chronicle)