LOS ANGELES—The set on the soundstage bears the familiar trappings of a strip club: dark, with round tables with little flickering fake candles all facing an elevated stage. Dancers pose and strut on the stage in a choreographed routine, illuminated by follow spots. The cameras are focused on the stage and the dancers, so the tables are empty. They’ll be filled with extras later.
The dancers are different from what I’m used to, though. They’re guys. Dressed in fatigue pants and caps, dog tags, and white wifebeaters so tight they show off the effect of every bench press and sit-up, they dance with a lot of chest moves and pelvic thrusts in front of a giant American flag, so large that the left-hand half is all star field and the other side is just short stripes.
For a second I think I’ve walked into the wrong set but this is Wicked Pictures’ Magic Mike XXXL: A Hardcore Parody, rushed into production to capitalize on the upcoming mainstream sequel Magic Mike XXL. Wicked stalwart Brad Armstrong, a former stripper himself, is directing from his own script.
“Not only is it a spoof of the original, parodying what we liked about the original, Brad has incorporated some elements of the mainstream sequel: we just added an X to their title,” Wicked publicist Daniel tells me. “It’s similar to what he did with Men in Black, where he took elements from the first two movies. Misty Stone’s character is parodying the character of Rome from the new movie. He almost did this when the first movie came out but he wasn’t sure if there was a demand. When he saw that they were doing a sequel—and what it was titled—it lent itself well. A potent combination.”
The cast also includes Derrick Pierce, Rob Piper, Ryan Driller, Tony Martinez, Tommy Gunn and Ryan McLane as the dancers, with jessica drake, Jessa Rhodes, Kendra Lust, Adriana Chechik, Asa Akira and Mia Malkova. At the moment only drake is here, taking pictures with her phone and cheering on the dancers.
“We should oil you guys up a bit,” Armstrong says. “Maybe do a nuru.”
“NO!” comes an outraged voice from the stage.
David Lord fills a squeeze bottle with oil and hands it to one of the dancers, who squeezes some on his hands and passes the bottle.
“HEY!” Armstrong snaps. “Don’t go getting that shit on the dance floor!” The voice of experience speaks.
Armstrong’s background also surfaces when one of the guys starts to get up on a table. Armstrong stops him immediately: “Not on a table full of drinks. The bar replaces the drinks and the manager takes it out of your pay. I’ve been there,” he adds with a rueful grin.
The extras arrive, a collection of well-dressed mainstream professional extras, cast principals and other adult performers, including Brandy Aniston and Sable Renae, and they are placed around the room, with the mainstream extras who are skittish about being seen in an adult video put in inconspicuous positions.
Armstrong sets up the dance scene with practiced aplomb, introducing McLane—who has nailed Matthew McConaughey’s signature “All right all right all right” catchphrase. He says that McLane will be the MC but he, as the director, will also be on mic prompting actions: “Telling you to scream or raise your hands.” The plan is to shoot all the dance sequences—group and solo—today. The guys have been rehearsing their routines at Armstrong’s house the last four days, so they’re ready to roll.
Armstrong distributes dollar bills among the extras to use as tip money, telling the dancers, “Guys, be sure you bring the money back and put it in the bucket, otherwise the guy going after you won’t get any tips.” To make it easier on the extras, the drinks on the tables are actually drinkable, not an unappetizing camera-friendly concoction of food coloring and water, and everybody is glad that the fake smoke has no odor and isn’t making the stage humid.
“What do you want?” David Lord, behind the camera, asks Armstrong.
Armstrong gestures across the width of the stage. “Big fat stupid wide.”
“Yes!” says Lord, chuckling at the phrase.
On “Action!” McLane struts out on the stage, cutting off the chant of “Take! It! Off!” from the extras and laying out the rules: “The law says you aren’t allowed to touch the dancers. You can’t touch right here [catcalls], or here [boos and catcalls], or right here ... But I see a lot of lawbreakers out here. And lawbreakers ... get jawbreakers. Now that we got the rules understood, let’s get this party started.”
The military number starts, with call-and-response something different from boot camp:
“I don’t know but I been told” I don’t know but I been told
“Girl in the front ain’t 20 years old” Girl in the front ain’t 20 years old
“Showed the doorman fake I-D” Showed the doorman fake I-D
“Wonder’d how many cocks she’d see” Wonder’d how many cocks she’d see
“Her friends said she’s a dirty slut” Friends said she’s a dirty slut
“Me and the boys gonna fuck her in the butt” Me and the boys gonna fuck her in the butt
The guys get in position to start their dance solos. Armstrong calls, “Cut! Turn on the fans! Back to one!”
The smoke disappears in a matter of seconds and the dancers return to their starting places, ready for another take. This time, they’re going to rip off their shirts.
