"Another movie review?" you say with dismay. Yes, yes, but bear with me. I promise I have a larger point to all of this. Minor spoilers ahead.

Melissa McCarthy, that great mover of the body-image goalposts, appears in two feminist propaganda pieces currently in theaters. The first is Ghostbusters, a gender-bent remake of a childhood classic so rife with double-standards that I'm convinced I've seen it twice. The second is Central Intelligence, a midlife-crisis buddy movie whose answer to the age old question of a man's disillusionment with his ho-hum life and ungrateful wife is to - I shit you not - double down and have a baby.

The feminist drivel in Ghostbusters is easy to pick apart, but there is a central element worthy of being addressed. The primary villain, played by Neil Casey, is the typical stereotype of the Average Frustrated Chump. He is short, out of shape, and does science projects in the basement. Women scorn his presence; at one point in the movie Melissa McCarthy openly mocks his sexuality, yelling for him to "come collect your virginity from the lost and found!" This is delivered to the audience as completely acceptable behavior by women towards the frustrated man who rejects a society that has abandoned him.

This comes in stark contrast to the girls' hiring of Chris Hemsworth as their secretary. He is a "Harmless Alpha", so sexually desirable that Kristen Wiig can't stop drooling over herself in his presence, yet rendered non-threatening by his puppy dog personality and his incredible lack of intelligence. Sexual harassment by women in the workplace is, of course, okay.

At one point, our AFC villain possesses the body of Chris Hemsworth, and this is when he becomes truly dangerous. Soon after successfully engaging in physical confrontation and learning the ease at which heavy objects can be moved in his new body, the villain proclaims: "I should have worked out more when I was alive." Those who subscribe to TRP philosophy will agree wholeheartedly with this sentiment, but remember, this movie is not for us. The real message being delivered is about the kind of man proper application of TRP can produce:

Women, beware the Beta hiding in an Alpha's body.

As a guy movie, Central Intelligence had potential that was drowned out by the Feminine Imperative. Kevin Hart plays a high-school superstar who, 20 years later, finds himself living out the plotline of Office Space. His wife, who has everything a woman could possibly ask for, is naturally unhappy. Dwayne Johnson plays a fat kid who grew up to be The Rock. The feminist message is on-point, and Johnson's imposing masculine presence on the screen is continually countervailed by the shit the scriptwriters put into his mouth. For instance, we are to believe that when a hot young bartender expresses her physical availability to Johnson (while simultaneously delivering a hostile shutdown of Hart in a completely different tone and demeanor - also okay and expected behavior from women toward betas), he brushes it off saying he is "past all that casual sex stuff." We are also to believe that he hooks up with Melissa McCarthy because she is "beautiful on the inside." Blech.

However, secret messages to men can be glimpsed under the surface.

In a scene addressing the issue of the Beta in the Alpha's body, The Rock stares into a mirror and sees the fat kid from high school as his old bully taunts "once a fat kid, always a fat kid." This is a sentiment that hits home for me. Intellectually, I know I look better than I did back then, but grasping the awareness of it and the self-confidence that it inspires is difficult during the critical moments. When I am at the negotiating table. When a girl assesses me as alpha and treats me as such. When conflict looms. We talk here a lot of "killing the beta," but it is difficult to do when your self image has been shaped by a society that says it is okay to treat the bottom 80% of men as subhuman and you found yourself on the losing end of that proposition. Our media reinforces this, now more than ever.

When Kevin Hart presses Johnson on how he turned his physique around, his reply is, "Oh, it was simple. I worked out six hours a day, every day, for twenty years. Anyone can do it." Queue laugh track. Because that's a silly answer!

However, Dwayne Johnson is known in Hollywood for his diligent training schedule. While many actors tend to work out towards specific projects, Johnson is continually training even when he has nothing on the docket. Because of this dedication, he has assumed the mantle that Arnold Schwarzenegger wove. Though demand for muscle-bound action heroes is in far less demand than it was 20 years ago, if a part comes up it is Johnson's for the taking. Anyone who has been lifting for a while knows the "creep" that it has on one's life. 3-4 hour-long sessions per week become 5-6 hour-and-half sessions. You add stretching for another 15-30 minutes. Maybe you join an athletic sport or a martial art that gives you something to do with your new prowess. You start watching what you eat. You stop drinking. You go to bed early. These days I easily spend 20 hours per week on various methods of working out, and I am nowhere near looking like Dwayne Johnson. So when he says 6 hours per day, every day for 20 years, this is likely closer to the mark than not.

For me, the biggest takeaway from the movie was during the outtakes. In a part where Melissa McCarthy is touching Dwayne Johnson's exposed chest, she begins to giggle. He pops his pectoral muscles to her startled delight, and she tentatively, shyly asks him to do it in various different ways. Here in this candid moment, we see the Feminine Paragon Of Fat Acceptance reduced to a tittering schoolgirl when given the opportunity to touch The Rock's chiseled body. And this is where the heart of the lesson lies.

I can attest that as my physique gets better, my relationships get easier and easier. Women I interact with on a regular basis are friendlier and more helpful, and guys are inspired (or sometimes salty). My opinions weigh more than they used to. First impressions in particular have changed dramatically, and it is very rare that I do not have a new friend in everyone I meet. Right now, I am still "faking it until I make it" and I still have a long way to go, but going from 285lb lardass to 225lb black belt has allowed me to at least fake it in the first place.

Human beings are fucking shallow. Most are impressed by a strong physique because they are not willing to get one themselves. Be the man whose pecs are something women want to touch, and they become completely different people. Dedicate yourself to the pursuit of physical improvement, and the paths magically begin to straighten. There may be a beta still lurking inside. Keep working to keep him there. He will get weaker over time.

The Rock is right. It is simple. Anyone can do it. Just not many will.

TL;DR: Lift, bruh.

EDIT: Is The Rock on 'roids? I will accuse no one of any such thing. Nevertheless, my feeling on it is that it doesn't matter. You don't look like he does by accident. To say that he is somehow cheating is disingenuous. You can be a desirable man without steroids. You can be an absolute fuckup with them. It's the (properly driven) dedication to self improvement that is important.

EDIT 2: Goddamn you magnificent bastards. Last picture isn't technically steroid abuse, but I'm going to leave it anyway. You get the point.