Finding a Queer Feminist Cult Classic in Charlie's Angels

The perception of ‘feminist’ film has transformed drastically over the last few decades. From Agnes Varda’s vast filmography, which focused on how women confront history and memory, to superhero films Captain Marvel, the genre has transformed into something that is almost undefinable. Stuck in the middle of this gear shift is none other than the Charlie’s Angels remakes, released in the early 2000s. 

Directed by McG - who previously found fame as a music video director for Korn - the film feels like it was made for the male gaze at times. In the sequel, Charlie’s Angels: Full Throttle, which celebrated its 20 year anniversary last month - there’s a whole sequence dedicated to watching the angels perform a striptease set to the Pink Panther theme. The Angels aren’t performing this dance simply to appeal to the men in the live audience, however – they’re doing it to retrieve keys to a warehouse that hang from one of the men’s pant pockets.

Something about McG’s camera’s gaze allows the Angels to be sexy, but not necessarily sex objects. It’s a rare feat for not only a male director, but specifically one directing women during the early aughts. While they remain sexy, the Angels are clearly more than that, using their wits to get what they want just as much as they use their bodies. 

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The way the camera holds on each of these women, especially during many of the rock music-infused fight scenes, caused many like myself to realize an early inkling of queerness within themselves. Emily, a programmer from Canada who saw both films in theaters when she was a kid, says that the films “arrived at just the right time to rock [her] to [her] core.” 

As for me, I was around five years old when the second film came out, and I remember annoying my grandmother to no end because I requested it to be played every day after school. Something about these films channeled an essence of early girlhood that though I now don’t necessarily align with, feels nostalgic all the same. 

For critic B.L, their first encounter with the film continues to stay with them. “I remember seeing the first Charlie’s Angels at a birthday sleepover,” they say. “My friend was obsessed with the film and its soundtrack, so it was a natural selection. Once we popped open that hot pink and orange DVD, I was changed forever.”

Sydney Urbanek, a culture writer from Canada says that “by the time [Full Throttle was] being promoted, I was allowed to use the internet by myself, and I remember being weirdly obsessed with the trailer before it came out. [...] I found the whole thing very satisfying. It was also a sexier movie than the first one had been, at least in terms of how they marketed it, and it sort of felt like I wasn’t supposed to be watching it as often as I was, which naturally meant that I watched it all the time.”

“Films like the Charlie’s Angels duology exist as a stepping stone which lead to other revelations. From igniting my fascination with Kung Fu films to allowing me to realize I was queer, they spoke to me on a deep level.”

This was the same for me. When watching these films I felt like I was accessing a part of myself that couldn’t be reached anywhere else, and in doing so, I was doing something that I wasn’t necessarily allowed to do. As the years have gone on, the films have slowly become claimed by women and queer people like myself who idolised the Angels when they were kids. “[As a kid] I dreamed of being Drew Barrymore’s character [...] [but] My bisexual ass actually wanted to be with Dylan. The scene of her playfully unzipping her jumpsuit at the racetrack [in the first film] plays on loop in my brain,” says Emily. 

I too had a similar realisation, but in reverse: when seeing Justin Theroux strut through a wall of fire in Full Throttle. I remember thinking he was attractive, but as I continued to watch these films as I aged, I realised it wasn’t just attraction I found, it was a desire to emulate his look and physical mannerisms. McG shoots both women and men in the same way, panning over their sweat-soaked bodies with the same desire, passion and intrigue. The male gaze is present in the way in which the Angels are framed, but that gaze is also apparent when Theroux and even Crispin Glover are on screen. 

In framing everyone in this way, McG – perhaps unintentionally – crafted a queer and feminist gem. Sydney agrees, stating that “whatever the original intentions may have been, these movies are full of mesmerisingly beautiful women—who are always, like, cuddling and spanking each other [...] I think both [the homoerotic tension and this “post feminism”] create these fantasy worlds that are pretty easy to get lost in...”

Its intentionality is perhaps what still draws us back to these films two decades later. It’s also the reason that the duology’s successor, the 2019 Charlie’s Angels film directed by Elizabeth Banks flopped commercially and critically. It may also be because unlike the 2019 version, the chemistry between Berrymore, Diaz and Liu was extremely palpable. B.L agrees, stating that “Part of what makes these films so rewatchable is knowing that those women are still friends to this day. They created an everlasting bond that we can feel when we watch them.”

With this everlasting bond, came an everlasting impact on an audience the film may not have originally been intended for. Films like the Charlie’s Angels duology exist as a stepping stone which lead to other revelations. From igniting my fascination with Kung Fu films to allowing me to realize I was queer, they spoke to me on a deep level.

“When movies aren’t made to speak to you, you have to make do with what you’ve got, for better and for worse.” Emily agrees. “For women and queer folks who didn’t see themselves represented in mainstream media in the early 2000s, campy femme films like Charlie’s Angels provided an accessible sneak preview of what it might feel like to be seen.” And seeing yourself on screen, even if it's through someone of a different gender or race than you, is paramount when it comes to building an audience. 

Though Charlie’s Angels may not have truly been made for us, nevertheless, it has become a touchstone in many of our lives. Twenty years later, they continue to be loved by people who grew up with them, solidifying their stance in the feminist and queer film canon. 

Words: Kaiya Shunyata