Critic Doctor (Herb Kane) - Review by Peter Sobczynski: Charlies Angels: Full Throttle (PG-13) - Cameron Diaz, Drew Barrymore, Lucy Liu, Bernie Mac and Demi Moore.

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FILM REVIEW

CHARLIE'S ANGELS: FULL THROTTLE
by Peter Sobczynski

June 27, 2003

ZERO STARS (Out of 4 stars)

FILM CREDITS: Written by John August. Directed by McG. Starring Cameron Diaz, Drew Barrymore, Lucy Liu, Bernie Mac and Demi Moore. 101 Minutes. Rated PG-13. A Sony Pictures release.

Imagine having a year’s worth of "Maxim" read aloud to you by a group of ADD-afflicted kids while being slammed in the groin with a fungo bat for 100 minutes. It is a grisly scenario and yet it doesn’t even come close to fully conceptualizing the sheer horror of the experience of sitting through "Charlie’s Angels: Full Throttle". This is not merely one of the worst films in recent memory but it could well go down as one of the worst things ever conceived by human hands-that is, if it gave any evidence that was actually made by human beings instead of by robots hell-bent on destroying humanity by turning human minds to mush. The only reason that anyone should possibly consider seeing it is so that they can serenely attend every other film coming out this summer content in the knowledge that no matter how bad they may be, they won’t come close to approaching its utter cruddiness.

However, this is no ordinary bad movie-this is something far stupider and uglier indeed. The right kind of bad film can actually provide a weird form of entertainment for viewers who want to watch good intentions gone horribly wrong; even such legendary botches as "Battlefield Earth" and Roberto Benigni’s "Pinocchio" started off as sincere attempts to entertain audiences. None of that sincerity is on display for a second during "Full Throttle"; it is coarse, ugly, moronic, incoherent, incompetent, sloppy and an affront to the senses and while watching the film, you get the sense that the filmmakers made it that way on purpose.

The film is, of course, based on the popular 1970’s TV jigglefest and is a sequel to the freakishly successful 2000 movie. Once again, it follows the over-the-top adventures of three crime-fighting babes-ditsy Natalie (Cameron Diaz), tough Dylan (Drew Barrymore) and sinister Alex (Lucy Liu)-who work for unseen billionaire Charlie (voiced once again by John Forsythe) and his front-man Bosley. In the first film, Bosley was played by Bill Murray (who supplied the most entertaining moments) but after his allegedly unpleasant experience shooting that film (which supposedly culminated in unsolicited lessons in delivering comedy lines from Lucy Liu-you know, the crack comic genius from "Ballistic: Ecks vs. Sever"), no amount of money could lure him back for another go-round so his role has been filled here by Bernie Mac. According to the story, Murray was adopted by Mac’s South Central family and if you think that is inherently funny (which the movie clearly seems to think), then you may have actually suffered enough previous emotional damage to find the rest of the film amusing as well.

As near as I can determine, the plot involves the Angels being hired to recover two rings stolen from government higher-ups. Separately, they resemble the class rings available at lesser colleges but together, they are able to decode the list of names and whereabouts of everyone in the Witness Relocation Program. It soon transpires that the theft has been organized by Madison Lee (Demi Moore), a former Angel gone bad who is planning to sell them to the highest bidder and our heroines soon discover that she knows all of their tricks ("Ah, the Angels ass-kicking move!", she remarks at one point as the trio strikes yet another poster-worthy pose.)

The storyline, however, is nothing more than a thin clothesline for director McG (the music video vet who directed the previous film) to stage an endless array of scenes in which the girls dress up in fetishwear and prance around-at various points, they gad about as nuns, strippers, surfers, motorcross riders and even the "Aladdin Sane"-period David Bowie. The rest of the time, the film is content to simply steal scenes from other movies and TV shows in the hopes that audiences will recognize the sources (including "C.S.I.", "Cape Fear", "Point Break", "Raiders of the Lost Ark", "Singin in the Rain" and "The Blues Brothers") and laugh, thereby saving the filmmakers the energy and expense of creating entertainment of their own.

Although it was slammed by most critics, I actually liked the first film for its carefree anything-goes manner-it was the kind of film that looked as if it were being made up as it went along (which, according to the gossip, was pretty close to the case) and it had an appealing energy to it. While "Full Throttle" desperately tries to repeat that energy (as well as many of the same scenes-Diaz once again gets to twirl her butt in front of the camera and engage in a goofy dance number), it never comes close to working this time around. Instead, the film gives off an aura of smug self-satisfaction; it seems convinced that it can slap together a bunch of barely-connected scenes and slumming celebrity co-stars (Bruce Willis, Carrie Fisher, Robert Forster, Eric Bogosian, Eve, the Olsen Twins and Pink all pop up) and audiences will eat it up because they did once before. Imagine "Casino Royale" or "The Cannonball Run" with twice the chaos, half the wit and a more-is-more attitude and you have "Full Throttle".

Or perhaps it should be Moore-is-more because the film marks the return of Demi Moore from her self-imposed Hollywood exile. Watching her on-screen is still a jarring experience-the gulf between her absurdly retrofitted body and harsh voice remains as broad as ever-but for once, it is almost possible to work up a strange form of sympathy for her. After all, this is an actress who saw the public turn against her because of her choice of roles in which she was upfront with her sexuality ("Striptease") and physicality ("G.I. Jane"); now she has to stand on the sidelines and watch as her younger co-stars are racking in enormous paydays and media praise for doing the same in a film utterly devoid of any artistic pretensions (which "Striptease" and "G.I. Jane" had despite their flaws).

There are so many painful scenes that it is hard to single one out as the worst. There is the motorcross sequence that goes on forever without a laugh, thrill or point. There is the scene in which Bernie Mac deliberately shocks himself with a Taser for no reason. There is the moment when we learn that a character’s real name is Helen Zass, leading to the inevitable gruesome puns. For my money, though, the worst part comes when John Cleese appears as Liu’s father; inevitably, he doesn’t know what she does for a living and every line of dialogue in the scene is carefully constructed so that he thinks that she and her friends are hookers. If this wasn’t bad enough (and believe me, it should have been), the film manages to trump its own loathsomeness but having Dad seemingly approve of his daughter’s "career".

Even by the standards of mindless popcorn entertainment, "Full Throttle" is repellent. If it is the cinematic equivalent of fast-food (the common argument of people who are upset that snotty critics like myself would apply serious critical thought to a overt piece of fluff), then it is one of those Jack in the Box hamburgers that was laced with E.coli. I sat through every frame of this film (even the endless end credits which feature numerous shots of people breaking out into laughter in an attempt to convince viewers that they saw something amusing) and I couldn’t find a single aspect worth praising. Simply put, "Full Throttle" stinks.

-- PETER SOBCZYNSKI

CRITIC DOCTOR DISCLAIMER

While the views expressed by Peter Sobczynski do not necessarily reflect the views of Criticdoctor.com, the Critic Doctor will occasionally examine Mr. Sobczynski's film reviews to bring forth an honest examination of those views expressed.

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