Summing up a year’s worth of movies can be tricky. Top 10 lists often yield more questions than answers. The subjective nature of the endeavor inevitably reveals personal interests, quirks and prejudices, all of which can be either intriguing or infuriating depending on whether you agree with a given compiler’s cinematic worldview.   

Steven Soderbergh, despite threats of an early retirement, continues his relentless pace with the entertaining, sneakily incisive Magic Mike, the 49-year-old director’s 11th effort since 2004 and his third in less than a year following the effective thrillers Contagion and Haywire. (By comparison, his buddy David Fincher has made nine movies since 1992.)   

Channing Tatum just might be a real Hollywood swinger and one shrewd customer. Dreaming of fictionalizing his early days as an exotic dancer, Tatum teams up with Steven Soderbergh (after approaching Nicolas Winding Refn of Drive fame) for Magic Mike, which, from the spirited trailers, gives the impression of a return to the fun-loving Ocean’s franchise box office form for Soderbergh.  

Is it possible to get burned out on, or overwhelmed by, simple human interaction? My recent nightlife apathy stems from equal parts unwillingness and utter lack of motivation to take on the potential hours-long task of getting from Point A (leggings and hot rollers) to Point B (prettified and in a reasonable parking space). As the great Peter Gibbons said, “It’s not that I’m lazy, it’s that I just don’t care.” But I want to.