Directed by McG. USA. 2001.

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Charlie's Angels is a devilish display of dazzle and derriere, and makes no bones about it. One could even say it is little more than a costume drama; a Curriculum Vitae for its three female stars, and as long as you walk in expecting little else, you will not be disappointed. Don't take it too seriously and Charlie’s Angels is a frolic of fun; abusing  weak men and kicking butt, this is Spiceworld with attitude. The 'plot' is a sideline to the costume changes, fight scenes and explosions, although while these are the best bits, they are also the 'worst'; the director resorting to all the trappings of the Millenium blockbuster in place of the kind of kitsch scenes the Angels were loved for in the first place. 

A thumping soundtrack and ultra-cool special effects may compete with the modern day market but here are merely anachronistic distractions, sacrificing authenticity for the sake of the stars' egos. When used, the 70's graphics, visuals and overall production are superb, making the film an entertaining slice of imaginative 'nostalgia' as long as it's not taken as seriously as they sometimes appear to want you to. When it does parody itself, Charlie's Angels is entertaining, but remains lacking in the confidence to pull it off, and so deflates to rather limp eye-candy, pulled up occasionally to the status of satire only by Diaz and the way she embraces the humour of the film. 

This one, I fear is headed for a grave that should be a little deeper than these shallow soul sisters.

Amy Johnson
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