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Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle

By Bret McCabe | Posted

The Movie: It starts off riffing on Raiders of the Lost Ark's Mongolian bar, spoofs CSI and The Blues Brothers orphanage (complete with Mother Superior Carrie Fisher), and cheekily nods at Starsky and Hutch and David Bowie's Ziggy Stardust years en route to a literal Hollywood ending above the Walk of Fame. But Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle is really all about one thing: Cameron Diaz shaking that ass. Sure, she's back with her crime-fighting gal pals Lucy Liu and Drew Barrymore, who this time out extreme motocross and kick the living hell out of some dock workers. But Throttle only really revs when Diaz does her goofy boogie. There's a story--something about two stolen rings the Federal Witness Protection Program uses to encode its relocation data, a theft that may or may not be masterminded by former angel Demi Moore, who appears from career Siberia in a bikini, drives away in a Ferrari, and later tools around with gold-plated Desert Eagles in lingerie, a full-length fur, and heels. But did we mention that Cameron Diaz does the MC Hammer "Can't Touch This" booty scoot?

The Disc: Director McG directs his stars like girls who are boys who like boys to be girls who do boys like they're girls: From commentary to the special featurettes detailing the in-joke backstory to certain scenes, Throttle is a mobile pajama party with a camera crew and special-effects budget. And all you have to do to feel part of the in crowd is scroll through the special features--about the Angels' cool duds; about the Pussycat Dolls, with whom the Angels burlesque dance; about choreographing the motocross scenes; about shooting in the John Lautner house that serves as Liu's home; or about every song that appears in the movie. In fact, if you activate the "Angel-Vision Trivia Track," pop-up factoids appear almost every 20 seconds letting you in on the really cool tidbit in that particular scene. McG himself is a doughy, dorky, and enthusiastic fan of all things stereotypically young guy--cars, motorcycles, fights, etc. --who happens to make action cinema for girls, and loves every second of it. Judging from his casually silly director's commentary, he know he's making pure spectacle, and if loving trash is wrong, he doesn't want to be right.

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