l'Angels du Charlie

The roommates and I went to see Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle last night and we loved it. And we don't care who knows it. It was fun, funny, impossible, had lots of great clothes and shoes in it, and ooooooh one stunningly beautiful Brazilian surfer dude. *sigh* What more could a girl want?

Okay, okay, plot, character development, blah, blah, blah. But c'mon, not everything needs to be the frickin' Piano. Sometimes I like to have fun at a movie and just watch a bunch of beautiful people doing fun, unrealistic things to a cool soundtrack. And that's what we got, baby.

Let's face it, we're three chicks who grew up watching the cheesy show in the 70s. We knew what to expect. Bad acting, hot chicks in cool clothes kicking men's asses and lookin' good doing it. (And don't think I don't hear the rabid feminists yelling at me and threatening to kick me out of the gender for liking it, oh I hear them. I just don't care.)

I don't really understand critics who expect much more from it. Really critics, what are you expecting? It's a fun, cheesy movie. But the saving grace of this movie, for me, is that it is very tongue in cheek with lots of goofiness thrown in, just in case you think they might be taking themselves seriously.

Still, it's movies like this and the first Charlie's Angels that make me somewhat understand why guys like Bond movies. Everybody loves to fantasize. Sometimes I just want to take some time out of my busy day to imagine that I am a hot chick in a hot leather outfit just about to judo chop a bad guy into unconsciousness, knowing that his last thoughts will be about how much he really, really wants me.

And if that's wrong, well then baby... I don't wanna be right. Hiiiiiiiii-ya!