Dan M
Reviewer

      In the beginning, cinema was a way for people to be amused by flashing movie pictures, much like a child who has discovered television for the first time. As the art form of cinema grew, it went through phases of darkness, sappiness, confusion, experimentation, etc. Now, as I sat through the newest film to enter our world, "Charlie’s Angels: Full Throttle", I have come to realize that the art form as we know it has died tragically. Yes, it’s true. Pack up your belongings and head to the mountains, for the end is at hand.
 
      The film opens in Mongolia, pulling and tugging the audience through a maze of stereotypical agendas of villains and heroes, and almost immediately we are subjected to simple eye candy, shots ripped from the Matrix and James Bond films, and one liners that are so expected, I found myself muttering the lines to myself before they were said onscreen. The plot twists land the Angels in car and luge chases, fights in the hull of a cargo ship, and on the rooftop of a Hollywood movie premier, possibly referencing every action film since "Mission Impossible 2."
 
      “Re-introducing” a 40-something Demi Moore to the screen, she is put into a role that will allow people to remember only that she still can be considered a sex symbol in a youth-obsessed culture. Her only claim to sophistication is a small symbol on a necklace she wears, which represents Mars, the god of war.
 
      The other Angels, and the new Bosley, played by Bernie Mac, have little to add to the film except a few poses, and a few semi-humorous lines of dialogue that Mac must not have been able to say in his television show.
 
      Overall, we are subjected to an endless stream of dismal heroes, and senseless fiction which may or may not have had some kind of drug addiction in its youth. And finally, to misquote Groucho Marx, I must say that I have indeed had a wonderful time, and this wasn’t it.