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In one of The Simpsons' many classic episodes, Homer and Marge are describing how they met in high school to their children. It was the beginning of the feminist movement, at least in Springfield, and Marge was feeling the stirrings of women's lib. In an act of protest, she encouraged all of her fellow classmates to meet out at the flag pole and burn their bras. The joke was that all of the guys, including Homer, thought this was  spectacular decision, and they cheered the young women with barely disguised lust and glee.

The same dynamic is at work in the post-feminist, "Girl Power" movement of the last several years. Starting with the Spice Girls and culminating in the first Charlie's Angels movie in 2000, the mass media, fronted by various female singers and actors, encouraged young women (sometimes, very young) to use their sexual allure as a means of empowerment. "That's ok with us," young men and boys responded, and the result was the rise of magazines like Maxim and the further sexualization of our culture. The phrase "Girl Power" seems to have faded into kitsch already, and only the most naive see this trend as anything more than old-style exploitation dressed up in hip, po-mo clothes. Which means that we must be ready for Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle. Starring Cameron Diaz, Lucy Liu, and Drew Barrymore, the film hopes to inspire girls to new heights of lewdness with a few karate kicks thrown in.

Based on the popular '70s television show, the new franchise again features beautiful women who are secret crime fighters. In this year's installment, the plot involves the witness protection list. You know, all the people who have testified against organized crime and who've been given new identities in new locations. Well, it seems that the various crime families (in a variety of ethnic guises, so as not to further offend Italian-Americans) are willing to pay big money for that list so they can exact revenge. Strangely, all that's required is to steal two different rings and put them together. When one ring is taken in the opening scene in Northern Mongolia, the Angels are called into action. But as with most of these movies, the plot is superfluous, and the stable of writers (five are credited--who knows how many actually worked on it) wisely jettisons any sense of narrative integrity. I mean, why let a little thing like a story get in the way of the special effects and sexual innuendo?

Speaking of the sexual innuendo, that's been ratcheted up a notch in the sequel. While Cameron Diaz's unintentional double entendres were cute and even clever in the first movie, here they just seem crude and obvious. I searched in vain through my notes for some piece of dialogue that could actually be published in a family newspaper and came up empty. The same is true for the movie's visual "humor." In the opening sequence, Cameron Diaz, who seems game for anything, rides a mechanical bull wearing a frilly girl's costume, screaming with sexual abandon while dozens of men cheer her on. Later, the trio actually perform in a strip club in a number that goes on far too long. I know that the hipsters among us will claim that the movie's wink-wink approach absolves it of any true responsibility and that us squares should stop taking things so seriously. But I'm tired of that argument. The audience for this movie will include a large number of pre-teens, and even older teens won't be reflecting on the ironic implications when Lucy Liu uses a whip to tear off Diaz's bikini top. They'll just be gawking.

I might be willing to overlook all of this if the movie had anything worthwhile to offer. But it doesn't. Director McG hasn't seen an editing trick he didn't like, so the movie is full of slow-mo and speed-up shots that serve no purpose. The big set pieces are edited so badly you can't tell what's going on. Which means that one of the characters has to literally narrate for the audience. In the Motorcross scene that's ready-made for a video game, the movie can't even make it clear what's at stake or who's involved. I guess the simple sight of dirt bikes soaring through the air should be enough to get my blood pumping. There are a couple nice fight scenes, and McG has wisely laid off the Matrix-like moments. But even the martial-arts moments don't have any real sense of daring, any tension that our heroines might lose the day.

So, what does a movie do when it doesn't have any jokes or derring-do? It brings on the cameos. Here they include Bruce Willis being killed by his old flame Demi Moore, former Angel Jaclyn Smith showing up to offer advice, John Cleese as Lucy Liu's father (I guess that's supposed to be funny), as well as minor celebrities like pop singer Pink and kids tv star Shia LaBeouf. I mean even the Olsen Twins make an appearance.

Appearing in a more important and, therefore, more embarrassing role is comedian Bernie Mac, who looks even more out of place and uncomfortable than his predecessor Bill Murray did. There's a particularly humiliating moment when Bernie has to dress up in a skin-tight, black wet suit. And much of his snappy dialogue involves moments of confusion and despair. To make it all worse, the Angels giggle at everything Bernie says, as if he were a little cat playing with a ball of yarn.

That's not the only thing that gets the Angels laughing. They laugh at their own dance moves, they laugh at their own foibles, they laugh at their own double entendres, they even laugh at their own strip-tease. Full
Throttle might be the first movie to supply a laugh track. I, for one, appreciated that thoughtful gesture as I would otherwise never have known when to laugh. The movie also provides its own standing ovation at the conclusion. But don't expect any audience members to follow along, except for those teenage boys in the back screaming for the girls to show more of their "power."  

J. Robert Parks 7/13/2003

The entire cast and crew of Charlie’s Angels: Full Throttle, need to be tied up in a gigantic burlap bag, beaten senseless with shovels and banned from appearing in any production of any kind for at least five years.  I am even on the verge of burning my Monty Python DVDs because of John Cleese’s part in this.  That is how truly awful Charlie’s Angels is.

Cameron Diaz (Gangs of New York, There’s Something About Mary), Lucy Liu (Shanghai Noon, Ballistic: Ecks vs. Sever) and Drew Barrymore (E.T., Firestarter) play three bimbo detective, secret-agent types who are trying to recover two titanium rings that, when combined, do something sinister.  One ring has fallen into the hands of an Irish gangster named Shamus.  The other has fallen into the hands of a hobbit named Baggins.  I wish.

The first hour and a half consists of the three “angels” attempting to track down the rings while getting as naked as possible, making as many sexual innuendo as possible, and making impossibly brilliant crime scene observations that make CSI look like hacks.  Every time it seems that plot might start to develop a little, the movie breaks into a gratuitous slutty dance sequence.  For the love of everything holy, even V.I.P. can at least get a plot together.

Demi Moore (G.I. Jane, Ghost) was supposed to be a major player in this, but we see her for only a few minutes—nearly making out with Diaz’ character.  An hour or so later, she mysteriously reappears with no good explanation in order to engage in gratuitous cleavage-revealing combat and equally gratuitous Beavis-like teeth gritting.

The only entertaining seconds of this film were provided by Bernie Mac (Friday, Ocean’s Eleven) and John Cleese (Life of Brian, A Fish Called Wanda), via his father-daughter relationship with Liu’s character.  But I say “seconds” for a reason.  This movie is so horrible that you will laugh at absolutely anything these two say in a feeble attempt to make your time seated in the theater enjoyable should you be so foolish as to squander your hard-earned pesos in this manner.
 
The bottom line is that this movie was even worse than the popcorn, which had this powdery faux-butter substance on it and too much salt.

Dan Singleton 7/13/2003

NEGATIVE INFINITY rating

Start with quick-cutting MTV-style graphics, add a pulsing soundtrack and apply liberal amounts of T@A, and you have Charlie's Angels Full Throttle, the latest summer release from rising director Mc G.

The film reunites Dylan (Drew Barrymore), Natalie (Cameron Diaz), and Alex (Lucy Liu) as a trio of sexy crime fighters who take on the toughest tasks that no other agency can crack. The Angels are masters of disguise, fighting, and high tech, and they operate under the guidance of the mysterious Charlie (John Forsythe), who exists only to the Angels in the form of a voice on a speakerphone. Charlie and the Angels are assisted by Bosley (Bernie Mac -- who plays the brother of Bill Murray's character from the past film), and his role is one of liaison and guardian of the ladies.

The opening of the film has the team rescuing a government agent in Nepal from those bent on capturing his H.A.L.O. ring, one half of the witness protection list. When joined with the matching ring, H.A.L.O. will unlock the information contained within. Naturally, there is all manner of underworld interest in the rings as they offer the chance to avenge those who have harmed their interests and can be sold for a fortune. It does not take long for the Angels to gain a lead on the case and are soon matched against a former Angel named Madison (Demi Moore) -- who still harbors feelings of anger from her days as an Angel regarding a mission that left her injured -- and a psychotic gang leader Seamus (Justin Theroux), who has a mysterious link to Dylan.

What follows is a frantic mix of action, stunts, and comedy as the Angels fight the bad guys, yet still make time for some fun and social life. There are several cameos in the film and the return of cult favorite Crispan Glover as The Thin Man. While many of the stunts and action scenes border on absurdity and defy all means of logic, they are fun and are pulled off with some great pacing and intensity that delighted many in the audience. The film does have a lot of titillation, as a scene involves the girls undercover in a strip club, and The Angels have several double entendre scenes such as a hysterical scene where Alex tells her father (John Cleese) what she does for a living, all the while thinking his daughter and the Angels are call girls.

Yes, it's juvenile in places, has a meandering story with no depth to its plot or character development, but Full Throttle is a fun film that is a perfect way to spend a couple of hours this summer. The film knows what it sets out to be, and Mc G keeps things in check without letting the stunt work or action take over the film. The Angels are the draw, and the teamwork between the girls is excellent, and it seems as if the cast had a blast making this film. Moore is good as the icy Madison, and it is nice to see her back after her self-imposed hiatus. Bernie Mac fills in well for the departed Murray but offers a wise-cracking Bosley that is a contrast to the goofy charm Murray used for his character. While not as good as the original movie, Full Throttle is still a fun time at the theater as long as you leave reality at the door and sit back and enjoy the ride.

Gareth Von Kallenbach   July 13, 2003