2.5 stars. Rated PG-13, for violence, profanity and suggestive content
By Derrick Bang
Director/co-scripter Elizabeth Banks deserves congratulations, of a sort: She has appropriately honored this franchise.
Which is to say, this film is every bit as dumb, dull and contrived as the late 1970s TV series on which it’s based.
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| Having tracked the bad guys to an industrial rock quarry, the resourceful Angel operatives ‚ from left, Jane (Ella Balinska), Sabina (Kristen Stewart) and Elena (Naomi Scott) — ponder their next move. |
Oh, sure; the insufferable sexism has been upgraded (somewhat) to bad-ass gal power, but that’s not much of an improvement … particularly since this updated Charlie’s Angels still finds ample opportunity to pour its three stars into skin-tight outfits. (A third-act dance sequence is particularly eye-rolling.) Costume designer Kym Barrett certainly is kept busy, particularly with glitzy tube dresses.
Mostly, though, Banks has simply proven that she can deliver an action thriller every bit as mindless as those featuring male stars in equally ludicrous predicaments. Although her story — co-written with Evan Spiliotopoulos and David Auburn — ostensibly is fueled by the desperate effort to Keep A Nasty Device Out Of The Wrong Hands, it’s little more than an excuse for an increasingly tiresome series of chases, melees, absurdly drawn-out smackdowns and the usual physics-defying stunt work.
Most of the performances rarely rise above the smug and smirk that too frequently passes for “acting” in live-action comic books of this sort, and occasional efforts at more serious emoting — as when we lose a good guy, early on — are wincingly awful. The one exception is Kristen Stewart, whose sass and snark are a breath of fresh air. I can’t say she carries the film — that would be impossible — but she certainly makes it more bearable.
Having moved further into the 21st century, the Townsend Agency has expanded from its Southern California roots, with clandestine pockets of high-tech Angels now operating world-wide. A prologue escapade introduces the resourceful and athletic talents of Sabina (Stewart) and Jane (Ella Balinska), as they take down wealthy international criminal Johnny Smith (Chris Pang, suitably smarmy).
Meanwhile, back at the Townsend Agency, veteran Bosley (Patrick Stewart) is feted with a retirement party, having been instrumental in taking the Angels global during the past decades. He’s congratulated by his replacement Bosley (Banks) — the name being more of a company rank, like lieutenant — with other Bosleys wishing him well via international video links.
Elsewhere, brilliant scientist Elena (Naomi Scott) has spent years attempting to perfect a revolutionary sustainable energy source dubbed Calisto, controlled by a small, multi-faceted device somewhat like an Amazon Echo. Trouble is, the gadget has a dangerous flaw: a tendency to emit a localized EMP capable of crippling — or even killing — people within range. Her condescending boss, Peter Fleming (Nat Faxon), not wanting to delay public release on behalf of their tyrannical CEO, tech billionaire Brok (Sam Claflin), coldly tells Elena not to worry her pretty little head about it.
Leaving his office, Elena is clandestinely slipped a Townsend Agency card.
Not much later, she’s targeted by a relentless assassin (Jonathan Tucker) with the endurance of your average Terminator, and saved only via the timely intervention of Sabina, Jane and another Bosley (Djimon Hounsou). This pell-mell car chase, with weapons blazing, is one of the film’s best action sequences: in great part because it’s sleekly choreographed by editors Alan Baumgarten and Mary Jo Markey.
Elena barely has time for shock and disbelief, which intensify once she’s brought into an Angel “safe house,” chaperoned by nutritionist, healer, guru and ersatz Jewish mother Saint (Luis Gerardo Méndez, quite droll).
In between ogling the lavish wardrobe and high-tech gadgets available to all Angels, Elena breathlessly explains that — in addition to her prototype — six other Calistos have been produced, all under lock and key in her lab. Cue a retrieval mission, which naturally goes awry; cue the subsequent lengthy global pursuit to recover the Calistos before they fall into the hands of … We Know Not Who.
(Oooo, a mystery. But not much of one.)
Kristen Stewart plays this nonsense with just the right amount of mischief and insubordination. Sabina is rebellious and reckless: an “accidental” espionage agent in the rescued-from-the-streets mold of La Femme Nikita. She’s therefore somewhat unpredictable, and more careless with her wardrobe, which makes her far more interesting than the others; Stewart also is the only actor who knows how to deliver a well-timed one-liner.
Balinska’s Jane, a former MI6 agent, is structured and disciplined. She’s the group’s warrior, often honing her fighting skills in between assignments. Alas, Balinska gives her zero personality; Jane looks great in combat poses, but she’s otherwise a glass wholly empty.
Scott’s Elena is … well … rather embarrassing. Scott lacks the acting chops to credibly transform this breathless, wide-eyed naïf into a covert operative. Elena too frequently comes off as a helpless, scatterbrained gurl needing rescue: everything a Charlie’s Angel shouldn’t be. (Having said that, her misuse of the contents of an Altoids tin is genuinely funny.)
More crucially, Scott doesn’t look, sound or behave anything like a genius scientist. That notwithstanding, Elena’s whiz-kid computer skills are overused to a ludicrous degree; no matter what the obstacle, her flying fingers execute a solution with the speed of R2-D2. That quickly grows as old as the repeated skirmishes with nameless, faceless Bad Guy Thugs.
Although the core plot ultimately lurches to a sorta-kinda conclusion, the script is rather sloppy along the way. Elena’s decision to turn whistle-blower, and her sudden meeting with a Bosley, takes place so abruptly that it feels as though several scenes were left behind. An all-important flash drive suddenly ceases to matter, without a word of explanation, regret or frustration.
And considering the degree to which the unseen Charlie apparently frowns upon the unnecessary taking of life, Jane and Sabina cold-bloodedly execute an impressive number of Bad Guy Thugs. A couple of them perish rather horribly, in a manner not consistent with the rest of this film’s superficial, cotton-candy tone.
Brian Tyler’s paralyzingly loud synth score battles for supremacy against an equally shrieking, hip-to-the-moment, all-female song list led by five tunes from Ariana Grande: all of which further the notion that this is less a film, and more an overlong glam rock video. That said, Tyler gets credit for occasionally referencing the original Jack Elliott/Allyn Ferguson TV show theme.
Similarly, Banks works in an equally affectionate nod to that series, along with the Drew Barrymore-led 2000 and ’03 big-screen updates.
But such touches hardly compensate for such a relentless deluge of empty calories. At best, this next-gen Charlie’s Angels is a guilty pleasure. At worst — based on the number of patrons who fled Tuesday evening’s free preview, long before the film concluded — it’s a waste of time.
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