In these wonderful days of low creativity and slick marketing, anything which is old - but has money-spinning potential - is branded cult. Even the most awful tosh receives a glitzy makeover. Welcome, then, to "Charlie's Angels", a dim, format-driven 70s TV show about three gorgeous female private detectives who, even though dynamically and athletically independent, always knew how to simper and pout, particularly when listening to their unseen boss, Charlie. In other words, by all means be feisty, but never forget to be feminine.
If women weren't offended back then, they certainly will be now, as will everyone else by this horrid roar of a movie, a film whose slick editing and glib lines are absolutely no substitute for real drama and proper exchanges.
As the picture leaps from one small scene to another, it seems that the director is almost neurotic about not having a proper script so he packs the film with fleeting, speeding moments. It comes as no surprise at all that the director has directed almost 50 pop videos and that this is his first film. It is clear that he cannot make his limited technique work for a real movie, which thus comes across as a never-ending pop video by a group called The Grinning Girls. The girls involve themselves not only with hi-tech gadgetry, martial-arts moves, endless disguises and transport of almost every kind, but also with a kidnapped computer ace and his super-duper software that has to be kept well away from cartoon baddie Tim Curry.
Even the humour is limp because what is being parodied wasn't remotely funny in the first place. All that can really be said in the film's favour is that Drew Barrymore, Lucy Liu, and Cameron Diaz know how to dress well.
Read about one man's encounter with Drew Barrymore at an LA concert.
Visit the official "Charlie's Angels" website.