Angels of Desire

An intact prefrontal cortex is not required to enjoy this film

Gabriel Shapiro

Summer is here, and that can only mean one thing: lobotomy! That’s right, campers. If you want to enjoy the offerings in this summer’s cinematic chum bucket, you’ll need to be missing an important chunk of ol’ mister thinky.

There can be no better example of how much Hollywood hates all of us out here in the real world than the new 90-minute music video “Charlie’s Angels: Full Throttle” currently masquerading as a feature film.

Bad acting, bad writing, bad use of an enormous special-effects budget and the other film crimes perpetrated by this stinker are all trying to hide behind the music. If nothing else, the new Angels movie is a fascinating look into the all-too-often taken for granted relationship between music and movies, sound and image.

If Drew Barrymore or Cameron Diaz can’t act, don’t worry! Just play a sad song and have them pull a sad face and there you go, problem solved. Plot holes? Things of the past! If you can’t write more than 20 minutes of material, don’t sweat that either; just have your well-sculpted actresses dress in bikinis and jiggle to K.C. and the Sunshine Band or similar pabulum until the audience vomits polyester.

What of the filmmaker’s credibility? How will this farce seem legit? Tons of cameos! What a notion. Get veteran actors such as John Cleese and Bruce Willis, add a dash of au courant flair like pop-trash star Pink, and now we’re really cooking with gas – or do we just have gas?

Either way, you could go out and buy $8 worth of anything and it will be better spent than if you pay to see this movie.

“Charlie’s Angels: Full Throttle” Directed by McG, starring Cameron Diaz, Lucy Liu, Crispin Glover. Now showing at area theaters.

Gabriel Shapiro welcomes comments at [email protected]