The Hustlers is everything it sells itself to be; the story is fun, the cast is sexy, and you can leave the theatre without a new weight hanging on your shoulders. The trailer was honest about the true nature of the film, but like most things featuring ladies in lingerie, I was surprised when the plot was actually substantial and interesting the entire way through. While it does carry some nostalgic feelings for Magic Mike (Soderbergh, 2012) and ride out the sex appeal of its environment, The Hustlers shouldn’t be considered a comedy or an easy film to lose yourself in. Shot with a similar format to I, Tonya (Gillespie, 2017), the film is the dramatization of a 2015 New York Magazine article titled “The Hustlers at Scores,” written by Jessica Pressler—played in the film by Julia Styles. 

Jumping between flashbacks and interviews between the dancers, the audience is given the story of four women that manipulate the strip club scene of New York in order to make ends meet after the 2008 recession. It’s not the typical protagonists expected of an all-American, make-your-own-dream tale (i.e., no white men), and it’s definitely not the traditional approach most films take in highlighting unexpected entrepreneurship. The methods used by the four main characters (Wu, Lopez, Palmer, and Reinhart) are not moral in any sense, but while the film addresses the legal terms of their misgivings, it’s also extremely difficult to fault the women for ending up where they are. There are no ‘good’ people in this film; it’s a movie about people profiting off of other humans. If the opening act didn’t showcase the women being objectified by men, then the resulting manipulation of the same men would be received differently—but Hustlers tells the truth, and it’s not cute or easy. 

The Hustlers isn’t like Coyote Ugly (McNally, 2004) or Burlesque (Antin, 2010) or any other club movies. There’s no romanticism about working in a club or the persona’s that gravitate towards that line of work. Hustlers doesn’t beat around the bush; the girls are honest about how they hate their line of work and the men are degrading and the inner workings of clubs aren’t glossed over. The characters are well developed and each tragic in their own right, establish the job as a stripper as a means of survival rather than a lifestyle decision. While this movie definitely shouldn’t be considered a comedy, it manages to be cheerful in some respects and does carry a heartwarming found-family trope throughout. The ensemble is extremely talented and produces charming chemistry that added an unexpected amount of depth to the film. Constance Wu, as always, is truly remarkable in her performance and juggles the emotion of the film beautifully, solidifying her ability to act as a leading lady. 

The film isn’t particularly revolutionary or lifechanging, but it gets you to think while still acting as a fun escape for any viewer. It maintains its legitimacy after the credits roll and changes your perspective of sex work in America, adding to a growing narrative of understanding the culture that plagues the underbelly of our country.