Hustlers

Picture this: Jennifer Lopez, splayed on a New York City rooftop, donning a hypnotizing crystal fringe leotard, couched in an obnoxiously luxe white fur coat. Channeling what I can only describe as “Big Leo Energy,” she exudes all the unbridled power of a glamorous lioness while she looks out over the skyline. As she exhales a long, slow drag from her cigarette, she gestures to her shivering colleague, her baby cub, to come over and climb into her fur. Can you see it? It’s a sight permanently imprinted into the DNA of women in theaters everywhere. It’s all anyone can talk about on social media and for good reason: Hustlers is a spectacle, and J.Lo is its metallic captain-hat-wearing star.

Based on a true story and Jessica Pressler’s 2015 article for The Cut, the film follows a pack of New York City strippers as they navigate the lavish landscape of the 2007 stock market boom and the crippling aftermath of its subsequent crash. With their once lucrative profit streams quickly disappearing, the dancers devise a devious plan to bleed the lusty wolves of Wall Street dry, reap the monetary benefits and regain their independence. Together, they vow to swindle the men who’ve swindled the economy into collapse, with charm, drugs and sky-high credit card bills.

Hustlers’ screenwriter/director Lorene Scafaria (The Meddler) has assembled a truly stellar cast, with Lopez and Constance Wu (Crazy Rich Asians) leading the pack. Ramona (Lopez), the seasoned stripping veteran and indisputable queen bee of the club, zeroes in on Destiny (Wu) and her newcomer naiveté and begins to school her in the art of the hustle. The ways by which Ramona and Diamond (rapper Cardi B, a former pole dancer) teach Destiny the moves she must make (on and off the pole) to instill an unwavering sense of confidence in herself suggests that this sleazy, cutthroat environment is actually an incubator for sisterhood.

The sparkly ensemble is rounded out by Julia Stiles as an investigative journalist named Elizabeth, plus two more dancers-in-crime: Keke Palmer (Fox’s “Scream Queens”) as bold and brash Mercedes and Lili Reinhart (The CW’s “Riverdale”) as innocent ingenue Annabelle. The dynamic casting adds a heavy dose of star power, making the film feel larger than life from the onset. This is a story about survival and the slippery slope of greed, but it’s being told with bona fide stars at its center.

Speaking of stars, no review of this film would be complete without discussing Lopez and her much-buzzed-about portrayal of Ramona. Whatever you think of her storied acting career (cough, Gigli, cough), her performance in Hustlers is positioned as the perfect platform for her silver screen comeback. The film seamlessly showcases her biggest strengths — her impressive dance background, her undeniable leadership skills and her incomparable stage persona — and Lopez shines brightest when she’s performing. She’s raw and untethered, a glossy beam of light in 9-inch lucite heels, gleaming on the stripper pole, basking in cash and confidence. She’s an unstoppable force and she knows it.

She emits a gravitas so intoxicating that it makes it nearly impossible to avert your eyes — a full-body paralysis she’s no doubt intended. While audiences are all goo-goo eyed and slack-jawed like the rest of the club creeps who watch her slither around the champagne room, she’s robbing us blind. It feels as though Ramona and her real life counterpart, J.Lo, are inextricably linked — a clear sign that this is the type of woman who not only understands the mechanics of performance, she knows how to make a killer living out of it.

Even with all that onstage charisma, Scafaria’s script doesn’t give Lopez much in the way of heavy emotional lifting. In fact, none of the actresses seem to get a fair shot at substantial character exploration. Even with Wu touted as the film’s protagonist, she has far less to do in the dramatic department than expected (unless you consider her blunt baby bangs and a bedazzled choker with the word “SEXY” on it dramatic). Her talent feels largely overshadowed by her character’s inability to fully express her motivations: Is she really a good person who was corrupted by circumstance and opportunity or is she just playing us? While intriguing, this moral ambiguity unfortunately lends an unfinished air to each of the characters and their storylines.

It’s clear that Scafaria has made her film in the vein of other quintessential crime heist dramas, most notably Goodfellas. From the slow motion havoc-wreaking scenes to the mentor-mentee power struggle and the flashy pop song montages in between, Hustlers does its best to pay homage to its mobster film forefathers. While successful in its stylish extravagance and fantastically indulgent cinematography, the film’s storyline falls short in its soft execution.

With the full details of the dramatic real life saga behind it, Hustlers had the chance to become something truly spectacular. It could have (and should have) portrayed these women for the hardened, irredeemable criminals they were and given us the down-and-dirty female gangster movie we’ve all been waiting for. Instead, Scafaria’s script seems to err on the side of safety, favoring female friendship over nitty-gritty (and downright necessary) plotline details, a choice that ultimately infuses far more glitz than grit.

Still, the film is irresistibly fun, thanks in large part to its best supporting player: the soundtrack. Jampacked with late-2000s pop and R&B club hits, the music flawlessly syncs with the film’s reckless abandon ethos. It’s wild, vibrant and absolutely shameless. With a magnetic stripping montage set to Britney Spears’ “Gimme More” and a deeply absurd slow motion cash tornado paired with Fat Joe and Lil’ Wayne’s smash hit “Make It Rain,” you can feel the heartbeat of the club thump as the stakes of the game begin to raise.

Tracks from megastars like Rihanna, 50 Cent, Big Sean and Lorde evoke that late aughts nostalgia that plagues the memories of many a millennial, including myself. I was instantly transported to the $10 all-you-can-drink bar nights from college, right down to the foggy memory of losing my ID to the annoyingly catchy tune of Usher’s “Love in This Club” — whose creator makes a fantastically ridiculous cameo in the film. Even if you’re not a (reformed) fan of glitter body spray and ’00s pop, you’re almost guaranteed to bounce in your seat to the musical musings of Janet Jackson, Cardi B, Lizzo and, surprisingly, several apropos instrumental pieces from Chopin (yes, that Chopin).

Never before had I imagined Fiona Apple’s late-’90s dark and twisty weird-girl anthem “Criminal” would be used as an unforgettable stripper entrance, but now I can’t think of anything more inextricably linked than that grimly naughty song and J.Lo’s (now) legendary skimpy silver striptease. (It’s a moment, people!)

Another aspect Hustlers absolutely nails is its treatment of women as they encounter the daily destruction of the male gaze. It depicts women as they see themselves being seen and smartly turns the persistent, degrading objectification they constantly endure into a neutralized threat. As such, a weapon that was once used against them is transformed into a force for their own empowerment. They use their brains, bodies and a sprinkle of spiked MDMA to get what they want, or, moreover, what they think they deserve. Though their delivery is deeply flawed (and, ahem, incredibly illegal), their message comes across as completely valid. In this way, Scafaria manages to make us root for them and champion them amid their criminal misgivings, crafting a wicked underdog story in the process.

Overall, Hustlers has far more going for it than against it, making a case for it to be seen, shared and savored. With initial critical applause being sung the loudest by female audiences, I wonder if it’s tapping into a larger desire of women to more freely express themselves in public spaces.

Hustlers is sexy, messy and supercharged with gender politics and social responsibility, but it does so without judgment. In fact, it celebrates the untidiness of working-class women and offers a collective catharsis that many of us have been eagerly awaiting. If you’re looking for a film you can bring your friends to and unabashedly enjoy the hell out of, bring out a pocketful of ones and make it rain.