Charlie’s Angels
When it comes to movies like this, sometimes I have to remind myself (and my Constant Readers) what my rating scheme is all about. I must reiterate I am rating entertainment value over all other qualities. “Will I get all my money can buy me?” In the case of Charlie’s Angels, I have to say, yes, yes you will. By no means is this meant to say, “This is a legendary film,” nor “an opus of staggering genius.” This movie is pure, rich, sweet American cheese, (with female beefcake) wrapped up in an ass kickin’, perfectly paced homage to synthetically cheesy American television. It opens with a gentle bit of self-mockery, and thankfully discontinues most self-referential nods after that. What a ride!
The original show, you may recall, was always supposed to be different girls working for Charlie, so it’s OK that these are totally new girls. I think reproducing old TV shows with new people, new takes on a well-known character built around a certain age and aesthetic is denying oneself the fun potential of growth. The Angels can actually dispense with recreating the impossible, and instead create new impossibilities thanks to modern technology and sensibilities. THAT was an altogether too-wordy way of saying that this movie is true to the spirit of the show without being bogged down by the show itself. Cinematographer Russell Cameron probably has more to do with the success of this film than many directors of photography are accorded.
Beautiful, brilliant - but no guns? No “Freeze, turkey?” Hey, I can dig that - it’s sexier to be a weapon yourself rather than wield one. Maybe, with the new mainstream lust for martial arts films, in 20 years kids won’t kill each other in elementary schools with guns any more…but I digress. Barrymore, Diaz, Liu. All beautiful women with impeccable comic timing and actual brains under their $300 haircuts. Mix in Tim Curry, Luke Wilson, Bill Murray (as we’ve always loved him), Sam Rockwell, Crispin Glover (?!) and a quickie by Tom Green, and you have a much stronger cast than the material would warrant - and that is why it works. Excellent casting + good pacing/editing + good old American butt-kicking = no risk entertainment proposition. And be heartened, young swains - there is lots and lots of sexy chick stuff, to the degree that even chicks will walk out feeling sexier! My companion and I were kicking and hiii-ya!-ing and basically just grooving on the adrenaline high for a while afterward. The word for this movie is *wanton.*
Another friend (a foreigner) saw the film, and while he was very entertained, he didn’t get what all the ruckus was about - and watching it, knowing that’s how it was for him, I could see it. Some of the silliness is truly unique to Americans. Our general inability to desegregate soulful and honky dancing, our hubris, our can-do attitude, not to mention our madonna-whore-rocket scientist fetish (tempered nicely by all the girls wanting more from their men than they currently get) makes this a true American institution. That, and the gratuitous car action and unconcerned attitude toward danger.
Director, uh, McG makes his cinematic debut, after establishing himself with (what else) commercials and music videos. Unlike many of his fellow graduates from that school of directing, he does succeed where others have failed - there is no substitute for story. Interestingly, all 3 of the writers have unimpressive filmographies as a whole, with one or two extreme gems. And yes, while some of the plot holes are wider than our heroines’ necklines, it’s clear (despite what the press may have said) that everyone is having a blast making this movie. You, too, should have a blast watching it, if you’re into this kind of thing. Keep that in mind - this ain’t Jane Austen! Just don’t buy those awful tie-in sunglasses with the fading color and rhinestone details.
MPAA Rating PG-13
Release date 11/3/00
Time in minutes 98
Director McG
Studio Columbia
