The most beautiful thing about Matthew McConaughey is that he’s just so damned good at being Matthew McConaughey. And Magic Mike was such a perfect role that it somehow allowed McConaughey the space to be even more McConaughey, like a cheetah that had been cooped up in a zoo suddenly allowed to roam the savannahs, taking down prey in glorious slow motion. It was beautiful. In a recent piece about the man, the myth, the sexual cheetah, Vulture writes that “Matthew McConaughey’s Magic Mike Oscar Campaign Begins Now.”
Yeah, count us in. Not only does Matthew McConaughey deserve an Oscar for Magic Mike, the Academy needs to go back a few years and start retroactively taking away awards for less awesome performances to keep them from cheapening McConaughey’s honor. It’s not really acting – they may need to create an entirely new award, called “Best Matthew McConaughey.”
“Yeah baby!” Matthew McConaughey says to me, sealing the sentiment with a chest bump.
“Sealing the sentiment with a chest bump.” The question he was asked, incidentally, was “did you really write that Ladies of Tampa song?” But it might as well have been “Hey, Wooderson! Ya like pussy?”
When moderator Pete Hammond [puke] asks McConaughey, “Why do you think this movie connected so well?” every woman in the audience responds with a lusty, guilty laugh — and the answer.
“Let’s just look at the low-hanging fruit,” drawls McConaughey. “Let’s not intellectualize things. Male strippers … just on selling skin alone, Warner Bros. went, ‘We see a trailer.’”
You could tell me that McConaughey didn’t thrust his hips at the audience when he said “low-hanging fruit,” but it already happened that way in my mind, and at this point, anything different would be a lie.