Hustlers’ biggest triumph lies in how it ceases to matter who the Caroline of the story is and who the Natalie. At times, it counts on the possibility that we can’t tell one from the other. After all, if motherhood is a mental illness, friendship is a viral infection.

Towards the end a political statement is also shoved in: that the whole country is a strip club where some are paying and others are getting paid to dance. You would do well to pay and see Lopez, Wu and co dance away with sheer abandonment and fun. But chances are that you could well end up finding yourself dancing to their tunes.