Well, ARE you?! You couldn't possibly like this "film." Luc Besson WAS a master of film-making. One of the international heavy-weights. THE BIG BLUE, LE FEMME NIKITA (even its American adaptation, POINT OF NO RETURN, it was something relatively special), THE FIFTH ELEMENT, and, of course, his undeniable MASTERpiece, LEON: THE PROFESSIONAL are all truly important pieces of cinematic art.
Then, as we all know, THE MESSENGER came around, and suddenly we were slapped in the face. He produces or writes a few absolute B-movies, for whatever reason (a couple of bucks? did those movies even MAKE any money?), then comes back out with a slapdash, animated children's movie with that strange-looking kid from CHARLIE AND THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY.
Now, it's ANGEL-A.
Uggh! The paper-thin story gives us a masturbatory fantasy of the shy milquetoast who finds himself on the grips of his life. About to commit suicide, this paunchy and impish fellow is about to jump off a bridge, begs God to give him a sign -- more or less -- and, low and behold, is granted the gift of a towering Viking blonde bombshell who will do whatever he says, whenever he wants, as quickly as he wants, without any question whatsoever.
"Angela" (hence "Angel-A"... tee hee!) has come to basically fix all of his problems lickity-split (even if it means stealing or beating up innocent bystanders) and prove to him that not only is he capable of being loved and of loving, but that SHE loves him.
Yawwwwn. I've said this a few times in the past, but I truly wrote a similar story... about ten years ago when I was a hot-blooded, angsty teenager in desperate need of a, well, beautiful blonde bombshell who would do everything and anything for me. Then I passed puberty and threw the story away.
There's never any sense of reality, never any sense of conflict or struggle (from the moment Angela appears -- almost immediately -- you know that our "hero" is perfectly safe, so there goes ALL tension), and the only "reveals" or sense of "unpredicatablilty" is engendered by the fact that you wonder, "Gee, is she or isn't she an angel?" Seeing as there are absolutely BLATANT, smash-you-over-the-head signs all along the way (including, well, the fact that the movie is called ANGEL-A), there's really no surprise when, hey: she IS an angel. Not to mention the fact that you find out "the secret" about half-way through this meandering and pedomorphic throwback, anyway.
The few remotely interesting moments come straight out of Besson's past movies (including a scene right out of THE PROFESSIONAL in which they play the Abbott & Costello "And stop saying OK all of the time, OK?" trick once again). The recycling here is truly shameless and proof positive that Luc is indeed running dry.
Then, as we all know, THE MESSENGER came around, and suddenly we were slapped in the face. He produces or writes a few absolute B-movies, for whatever reason (a couple of bucks? did those movies even MAKE any money?), then comes back out with a slapdash, animated children's movie with that strange-looking kid from CHARLIE AND THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY.
Now, it's ANGEL-A.
Uggh! The paper-thin story gives us a masturbatory fantasy of the shy milquetoast who finds himself on the grips of his life. About to commit suicide, this paunchy and impish fellow is about to jump off a bridge, begs God to give him a sign -- more or less -- and, low and behold, is granted the gift of a towering Viking blonde bombshell who will do whatever he says, whenever he wants, as quickly as he wants, without any question whatsoever.
"Angela" (hence "Angel-A"... tee hee!) has come to basically fix all of his problems lickity-split (even if it means stealing or beating up innocent bystanders) and prove to him that not only is he capable of being loved and of loving, but that SHE loves him.
Yawwwwn. I've said this a few times in the past, but I truly wrote a similar story... about ten years ago when I was a hot-blooded, angsty teenager in desperate need of a, well, beautiful blonde bombshell who would do everything and anything for me. Then I passed puberty and threw the story away.
There's never any sense of reality, never any sense of conflict or struggle (from the moment Angela appears -- almost immediately -- you know that our "hero" is perfectly safe, so there goes ALL tension), and the only "reveals" or sense of "unpredicatablilty" is engendered by the fact that you wonder, "Gee, is she or isn't she an angel?" Seeing as there are absolutely BLATANT, smash-you-over-the-head signs all along the way (including, well, the fact that the movie is called ANGEL-A), there's really no surprise when, hey: she IS an angel. Not to mention the fact that you find out "the secret" about half-way through this meandering and pedomorphic throwback, anyway.
The few remotely interesting moments come straight out of Besson's past movies (including a scene right out of THE PROFESSIONAL in which they play the Abbott & Costello "And stop saying OK all of the time, OK?" trick once again). The recycling here is truly shameless and proof positive that Luc is indeed running dry.