Charlie's Angels is, as most know, a film version of the old 1970's TV show. That program, which I've never once seen, was undoubtedly a jiggle series, with sexy babes fighting crime. I do not have any tangible evidence, but I suspect that the women in that series were, at the very least, models of integrity and intellect in comparison to the inept excuse for crime-fighters displayed in this movie.

Drew Barrymore, Cameron Diaz, and Lucy Liu star as our crime-fighters, Bill Murray plays their sidekick, or whatever, and they are commandeered by Charlie, represented by a disembodied voice emanating from the exact same low-tech speaker used in the original series, which must represent nostalgia for the days before the NASDAQ era. The voice is, as in the original series, that of John Forsythe, and one of the little jokes is that the girls wish that they could someday actually meet this guy. There is an obligatory final scene in which we see the back of some old guy's head, and we just know this is Charlie, and what I'm thinking right now is, hey, maybe that actually is Forsythe's own head and not just that of a stand-in, but it's been a long time since I, as a young child, last seen Dynasty.

The plot? What plot? It's probably just a rehash of an old episode anyway, something involving a kidnapping of a software genius, and the possible involvement of a competitor (Tim Currey). Of course, red herrings abound, and only a person who hasn't seen a movie before will not guess that this is the typical crime story in which the "victims" of the crime turn out to be the perpetrators of an even greater crime. Oops! Sorry, I gave it away!! Apparently the director (who is credited as "McG"; apparently they're running out of original names down at the Director's Guild) didn't think too much of this plot either, since he dresses it up in the style of a two-hour music video, with dozens of past and present hits accompanying the soundtrack.

The direction is weird. This is like Run Lola Run directed by that director's untalented kid brother. McG (sounds like the next Ingmar Bergman to me!) has a number of fetishes; one involving the use of the split screen (especially during a dinner party hosted by Curry), another involving the film speed, which slows down, speeds up, and freezes inexplicably. The intro to the film feels like a credit sequence to a souped-up television program. Overall, the movie is like a music video; cool things are done with the camera, the editing is kinetic, and lots and lots and lots of things happen, but to no effect.

The special effects and fight sequences are also berserk. Does McG (who undoubtedly learned a lot about suspense from Hitchcock, for sure!) know how to stage explosions and fights? The fight scenes are rip-offs from The Matrix, with people defying the laws of gravity, and the explosions are executed poorly. And all of the women endure much physical stress without appearing even slightly injured; you'd think after falling down cliffs and stone steps, as well as experiencing the brunt of explosions would give you at least a few scratches!! As well, it's pretty easy to tell when the back projection was used for particular stunts. It's one thing when you can see the back projection behind Cary Grant during the crop-dusting scene in North By Northwest, a film made in 1959, but quite another when the year is 2000, and Cameron Diaz is in front of the blue screen while supposedly navigating a powerboat.
 

But the most strangest aspect of this film is the characters of the women. These are supposed to be beautiful, brainy, and strong women. Yes, they are beautiful, yes, they beat up lots of people and solve crimes, but brainy....... the jury is still out on that one. Very little of this behaviour would suggest they would even know how to solve crime, much less enter crime school. The mere fact that one of these girls actually associates herself willingly with Tom Green pretty much explains their intellect. I don't get it; if you want to show us women crime fighters, shouldn't you at least attempt to make these women into people who could conceivably solve crimes? The women here do not solve any crime, it is merely the script that does so. Hey, they can look hot and sexy, but don't make them into utter airheads, because that is just plain wrong!!

 

I don't understand this. Drew Barrymore actually produced this movie, and you'd think that a woman at the helm would ensure that the women are presented with sophistication, but, instead, the camera ogles them. A few highlights include Cameron Diaz greeting a mailman in her underwear, saying that you can stick it in my slot anytime; a scene at the drive-through in which Lucy Liu wiggles her butt at the camera, and Drew Barrymore's descent down a cliff in the nude. There are also many scenes of them in sexy attire, as the camera dollies, zooms, etc at bosoms and butts and other exposed parts. And there is always sexual innuendo attached to every undercover assignment; either they play exotic dancers, masseuses, women with dominatrix tenancies, or they are just plain sexy at every moment, and after a while it gets really old. Maybe Drew is trying for some irony, telling us that women can be sexy and powerful at the same time. But she is doing a disservice here, because the angels do not sound like people who would have interesting things to say.

Most of what they say is either innuendo or trivial; this is the adult world as seen by a silly teenager, who thinks it's so cool that they, like, fight and stuff, and dress in cool clothes and, like, date a bunch of cute guys and, like, wow!! An adult woman would probably be unimpressed, if not appalled. If these women weren't beating people up, and/or one of the female stars were not the producer, this movie would be denounced as sexist trash. There is something almost cruel in the constant depictions of their undercover work as displays of pure male fantasy. It's not cruel to the men; it's cruel to the women - look at the scene in which Lucy Liu pretends to be an executive with dominatrix tenancies. What is this saying? That to impress your comrades, you have to dress in sexy attire and show that you're an airhead.
 

Hey, I will be fair. The sight of Drew Barrymore, wearing a tight blue thing, its zipper down to her waist, allowing her breasts to essentially pour out from beneath, and tossing her hair back and moving her tongue about would be more than enough for me to ask her, if she happened to be my acquaintance, if we can skip all of the formalities and just hit the sheets! But that's just a personal preference; this is not the same as a movie, in which there is something more than vaguely degrading about a genuinely adorable individual like Drew having to resort to exposing herself for cheap laughs. All she is doing is reinforcing the idea among impressionable boys and girls that sex is all that women are good for in the end, when, surely, Drew and the other angels have much more to offer.

 

Rating: **

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