Charlie’s Angels Full Throttle fully accelerates whilst narratively stuck in second gear. Can I order a McG sandwich please? Huh? You have no filling? Sure, I’ll just take the overly stylised sauce. My personal adoration for this sequel’s predecessor is one that cannot be described fully without tackling the realms of lunacy and diminishing my own critical insight. It’s just a special piece of camp nostalgia for me, even if its construction is more amateurish than Diaz’ dance moves. Interestingly, this continuation was also on repeat as I galloped around the room to the soundtrack of The Prodigy and The Chemical Brothers, witnessing physically impossible aerobatic stunts. However, after all these years, it’s time to succumb to the realisation that Full Throttle is a bad film.
Much like the first feature, its plot is a secondary product to the outlandish femme fatale antics. This time the angels must secure two H.A.L.O. rings which probably has something to do with monetisation and greed. Don’t ask me! For I honestly do not know. A stationery Barrymore sliding fully under a low table without the use of her arms had me entranced. Liu leaping sixty feet into the air by just jumping off a table had me hypnotised. And of course, Diaz bopping to MC Hammer’s “U Can’t Touch This” had me salivating. These, including the last point (have you tried side stepping that rapidly!?), are physically impossible to perform.
The wired stunts and choreography are so exaggerated that it becomes laughably terrible, juxtaposing the semi-realistic narrative that McG is attempting to convey. Driving off a dam whilst trying to fly into a helicopter and take off (all in mid-air by the way...) before it crashes? Sure. Why not. Performing motocross stunts whilst upside down and shooting the angels? Eh. I’ll let it slide. Using a lace cape as a squirrel suit, throwing a bomb into a film premiere and perfectly landing in a car whilst being pursed by the angels who are hanging onto illuminated wires? Ummm. I guess. Being tossed through a shop window, like a rag doll, and walking it off before getting changed for the premiere? Now wait just a minute! Heightened stunts and ‘Matrix’-styled slow motion is all fine and dandy, but I need an ounce of realism in order to feel threatened by the danger on screen. The angels are invulnerable to everything, making the entire ordeal worthless.
Yes, using a flamethrower to “Firestarter” is bonafide brilliance and shaped me to be the man that I am today. Yet the random action set pieces (to which there are loads!) cannot justify the narrative’s direction. Again, frustrating considering the onscreen chemistry of Diaz, Barrymore and Liu. The one and only Demi Moore is used for an underdeveloped plot twist, as she suggestively licks Diaz’ face. Oh, and Bernie Mac replaced Murray. A fine replacement, but again, under-utilised. Let’s not even discuss Theroux’s insulting Irish accent. The technical aspects, especially the garish green screen and floaty human CGI, unintentionally adds characteristics to the film in general, yet still executed terribly. And the callback “humour”, mostly consisting of the “creepy thin man” and the angels’ relationship, were cringeworthy at best. Although, the ongoing innuendos between Alex and her father did make me chuckle continuously.
Is it enough to substantiate a sequel that showcases the apparent curse of “more is better”? Absolutely not. Whilst the heart of Charlie’s Angels resides within, its discombobulated exterior diminished most of the heavenly fun to be had.
