Long before Bad Teacher, Cameron Diaz was a worse student (ha!) of karate and Soul Train choreography in Charlie's Angels. Shoot my face off. What a candy-colored crapden of jailbait, misery, and shattered dreamboards this movie is. What a clumsy potato gun aimed right at Jaclyn Smith's glowing visage. What a grim greeting to a decade that throttled us with movie remakes of outdated TV shows. What a barrel of burp gas dumped on Drew Barrymore, Lucy Liu, and all women, feathered or not. What a glorious rapture.
Charlie's Angels stars Cammy D., Drew B*More, and Lu-Liu as secret agents who work for a mysterious man named Charlie (John Forsythe), a jocular boss who gives orders on an intercom. Bill Murray acts as their intermediary Bosley, and if you think Bill nailed misery and alienation in Lost in Translation, you'll think he's Kafka himself in this project. Just astonishingly depressing, like the taste of elephant dung from Larger Than Life still lingers on his soft palate. Everyone else in the film is either a dunderheaded boyfriend type for the Angels (Matt LeBlanc, Luke Wilson, Tom Green) or their enemy (Kelly Lynch, Sam Rockwell). Or LL Cool J (LL Cool J). And with that, we soar into the five most lovable attributes of this $75 million scab.
5. The intricate plot
Here it is, the complete story of Charlie's Angels in three meaningful panels.
No doubt about it, that's three panels. If you actually tried to follow the "story" of Charlie's Angels, you'd come up with something having to do with bad guys, boat trips, Japanese disguises, dance moves, and Matrix-style backbends. And then you'd come down with something having to do with a heart attack, because this movie isn't for thinkers. Stop it, Mom.
4. The subtle dialogue
We've established that the movie is garish enough in execution not to warrant zany dialogue, but Charlie's Angels is not about restraint. It's not about not screwing up. In an early scene, Diaz (wearing just a baby tee and undies) informs a postal worker that he can "feel free to stick things in [her] slot" -- referring to the mail, guh-her! -- and later, Lucy Liu tells a disgusting creep who wants to hire her for massage services, "Thanks for the offer but my hands aren't going anywhere near your staff" -- referring to his personnel, yee-hee! Oh, death. Find me.
3. An opening sequence featuring LL Cool J and a throwback to Scooby Doo villains
LL Cool J starts off the movie with some ass-kicking on an airplane! Neeeeeat. Then he jumps off the airplane and parachutes to safety! Then this grotesque sequence occurs, and it's my own Human Centipede of distorted reality and bodily freaky-deakiness. All presented with a handful of Hanna-Barbera charm.
Yes, that's Drew Barrymore under there! And maybe under her, it's the old prospector. Or the carnival owner. Or, ugh, Scrappy Doo. We'll settle for Drew.
2. A supporting cast of depressing '70s and '80s icons
Yes, Bill Murray is a cantankerous bag of skin in this movie, but he's chipper compared to God Of Camp And All Things Magnificent, Mr. Tim Curry, who appears here as a lecherous foe. Even though this movie is essentially a sweet transvestite version of the Charlie's Angels TV series, Mr. Curry is just a gurgly basset hound here. Just a once-proud yacht run aground. Not an utter joy to watch. You have to don your Frankenfurter wig and brandish your Clue candlestick to savor his screentime here, and luckily I did both.
But fear not: Crispin Glover appears (!!!) as a key and unusually silent baddie who combs his hair often and runs around -- as opposed to aground. Is this his formal training for Willard? I hope so. Mind you, I just want any explanation for Willard. Mayan prophecy and senselessness are my only guesses thus far.
1. The blisteringly stupid, stupidly sublime, sublimely blistering soundtrack
The astonishing thing about Charlie's Angels is the sheer amount and volume of music coursing through its 90-minute runtime. In no particular order, it cues up "Barracuda," "Groove Is In the Heart," "Heaven Must Be Missing an Angel," "Turning Japanese," (during a shiatsu scene), "Baby Got Back," "Smack My Bitch Up" (during a fight scene with the three ladies, because director McG is apparently a chauvinist pig), and the Destiny's Child jam "Independent Women, Part 1." Such a valid dancefloor filler and a peak Beyonce moment to this very day. I assume Independent Women, Part II is the name of Kelly and Michelle's two-woman show at a Tuscaloosa dinner theater. Like Waiting for Godot with Beyonce "playing" the title character! Look it up, bugaboos.