Seeing Lopez’s best screen work since her early heyday of “Selena” and “Out of Sight” isn’t the only reason to check out writer/director Lorene Scafaria’s crime drama, but it’s a huge draw. In telling the true story of a group of strippers who lured, drugged and fleeced their wealthy Wall Street clients out of millions, “Hustlers” as a whole is a blast, stomping and striding with the confidence of Lopez’s thrilling introduction.
Scafaria leans a bit too heavily into classic Scorsese filmmaking tactics: the matter-of-fact narration describing the scam, her use of slow motion and zooms to heighten the emotion of a moment, the pop, rock and R&B soundtrack ranging from Janet Jackson and Britney Spears to Bob Seger and The Four Seasons, with Chopin sprinkled throughout. (Her long, opening tracking shot—from a dressing room, through a hallway, onto the stage, down the stairs and out into the crowd—does provide an impressive, immersive entrée to this realm.) And perhaps we get one or two montages too many of the high-end shopping and lavish lifestyle these ladies enjoyed with their ill-gotten gains. It’s “Goodfellas” in a G-string. But Scafaria’s film is always a blast to watch, resulting in a surprising level of emotional depth.
Based closely on Jessica Pressler’s New York magazine article (with Julia Stiles serving as the journalist’s stand-in), “Hustlers” follows Constance Wu’s shy “new girl,” who goes by the stage name Destiny: a Queens native and child of immigrants navigating the world of Costco-sized strip clubs in The Big City. She’s doing it for financial survival to support the grandmother who raised her (Wai Ching Ho) and she doesn’t show much enthusiasm or talent for this pursuit at first. But seeing Ramona command the stage makes her realize how powerful—and lucrative—such work can be. The sequence in which Ramona and another stripper (Cardi B, a proud, Latina product of the Bronx like Jenny from the Block making her charismatic film debut) teach Destiny the finer points of pole spinning and lap dancing is hilarious and actually kind of sweet, and it’s an early indicator of the way these ladies look out for each other.
The money is good for a while, especially with Ramona and Destiny working together as a seductive duo in the champagne room. But then the 2008 recession hits—and it hits the Wall Street jerks hard, which means they have less cash to toss at people’s posteriors. The crazy, addictive energy of the film’s beginning eventually gives way to a more low-key tone as work dries up, the dancers go their separate ways and Destiny gives birth to a baby girl.
But desperation also inspires Ramona’s scheme to go after even bigger money: concocting a potent mix of MDMA and ketamine, sprinkling just a dash in the drink of an unsuspecting mark at a bar and then dragging him back to the strip club to drain his credit cards. (The drug-cooking sequence in the kitchen of Ramona’s minimalist Upper East Side apartment is lively and humorous but it also provides another unshakable “Goodfellas” comparison.) Ramona and Destiny recruit a couple of trusted fellow dancers—Keke Palmer’s Mercedes and Lili Reinhart’s Annabelle, who add to the cast’s chemistry—to create a diverse lineup of sirens, and the nightly heists kick into high gear.
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