MAGIC MIKE XXL (15) 115 mins) Starring Channing Tatum, Matt Bomer, Joe Manganiello, Adam Rodriguez and Kevin Nash APART from the tease in the title of this pelvis-thrusting sequel, Gregory Jacobs’ third feature is longer and showier than the original.

Pulses quicken when the dancers have their clothes on, gyrating suggestively against whooping clientele, but as soon as the trousers come down and shiny posing pouches succumb to gravity, the electrical charge dissipates.

This might be the first film about “male entertainers” where the audience rowdily cheers “put ‘em back on!”

It’s been three years since Mike Lane (Tatum) turned his back on stripping to pursue his dream of running a custom furniture business.

Times are tough: his girlfriend has left him, he’s struggling to pay his one employee, and when his signature song - Ginuwine’s “Pony” - blasts from the radio in his workshop, he can’t resist a feverish grind against the nearest workstation.

Consequently, Mike reunites with fellow dancers Ken (Matt Bomer), Richie (Joe Manganiello), Tito (Adam Rodriguez) and Tarzan (Kevin Nash) for one final pelvis-thrusting hurrah as the Kings of Tampa at a strippers’ convention in Myrtle Beach.

En route, the team’s MC Tobias (Gabriel Iglesias) is waylaid in hospital, Richie finds a potential soulmate in an uninhibited Southern belle (Andie MacDowell), and the men learn new tricks from smooth operators Andre (Donald Glover), Malik (Stephen ‘tWitch’ Boss) and Augustus (Michael Strahan) at a private club called Domina run by sassy businesswoman Rome (Jada Pinkett Smith). Aside from the protracted sequence at Domina, Magic Mike XXL is dull and disjointed.

Rome’s affirmative message that all women deserved to be worshipped as “queens” by their men might ring true if the women in the film weren’t dragged, pushed and spun around the floor like supermops by the dancers.

It’s one way to do the housework, I suppose.