2000, 1 hr 30 min., Rated PG-13.�Dir: McG. Cast: Cameron Diaz (Natalie), Drew Barrymore (Dylan), Lucy Liu (Alex), Bill Murray (Bosley), Tim Curry (Roger Corwin), Crispin Glover (The Thin Man), Kelly Lynch (Vivian Wood), Sam Rockwell (Knox), Luke Wilson (Pete), Tom Green (Chad).

Buxom babes kickin' baddies' booty.

That's all anyone needs to know going in to see Charlie's Angels, the silly and action-packed tribute to the corny-classic '70s TV series that paved the way for such entertainment as today's "V.I.P." In one word, fun. This was quite a surprise, since I had serious reservations about this movie for the past year, fears that were propelled into orbit by the Revlon ad of a teaser that came out this summer.

However, the pull of Liu, Diaz and Barrymore were enough to get me past my doubts and enter the theater with no expectations, which is better than negative expectations. I had a good time, the audience around me had a good time, and these Angels will prove to be heavenly at the box office.

You may notice the selection of placement in the names of the actresses that star in the film. I did this on purpose, because that is how I rank them in order of the affect each has on the picture.

Lucy Liu again proves that she is terribly underrated and underappreciated in Hollywood. Sure, fans of "Ally McBeal" know what I'm talking about, but there are millions of Americans who will discover her draw in Charlie's Angels. In fact, an older gentleman was commenting to his wife on this after the movie in the hall, that he didn't know anything about her, because obviously he's a real man and thus more interested in Monday Night Football. I, uh, watch the latter and record "Ally"�.yeah, that's the ticket.

But Liu is sexy, domineering (literally and figuratively) and her presence on screen takes precedence over Diaz and Barrymore. She's absolutely titilating (not literally, which is frankly too bad oooh, naughty Jeff! Down boy!). Not sure of her secret identity with her boyfriend (Matt LeBlanc as an actor big stretch for him!), she relates that men "come on all lovey dovey until they learn I can shatter a cinder block with my head." Rowwrrr, I dunno, sounds appealing to me (down Jeff!).

Over the past year, Drew Barrymore has begun to move down my list of favorite actress, and I can't give you a definitive answer. Maybe it was her wretched role in Never Been Kissed among others, but I may have just lost a taste for her type (the come-hither rebel who is almost a parody of herself). Not to mention that this gentleman doesn't prefer blondes, but the dark-haired ladies of Hollywood nowadays. For instance, Liu is threatening to break into my list of favorites.

Cameron Diaz definitely has the most fun in Angels, as the intelligent yet ditzy blonde bombshell who can kick your butt while talking on the phone. About the only thing she can't do well is dance, which becomes very apparent in an amusing bit at "Soul Train."

All three seem to revel in their roles as highly-skilled agents who freely use their sexpot status to win over men and thus earn their pay. There is an abundance of sexual innuendo and outfits to keep the feminists at NOW shaking their heads, wondering if films like this are empowering or degrading. I don't care. The trio is incredibly sexy (fantasies fulfilled include the group as belly dancers, geishas, speed pit crew and a Bavarian polka trio), and at the same time are able to knock your heart through your spine if you're a bad guy. But then again, I'm a male chauvenist pig, so what do I care? I say women already have this down pat, if more figuratively than literally.

What keeps the audience giggling is how the Angels are enjoying themselves during the crisis. It's like a girls' night out, a pajama party where the pillow fights are likely to be deadly. With infusions from Mission: Impossible and The Matrix, the characters almost seem to know that they're using the elements of these films yet playing it straight in a self-referential spirit.

The girls can hold their own in a martial arts contests, but the director (McG, in his feature-directing debut) may have overdone it a bit with the slow-motion shots, which are not just of the action but also little things like Liu releasing her flowing hair from a forbidding helmet and letting it blow wildly in the wind. Mmmmm�okay, maybe that's not so bad. If there's one thing these ladies know, it's that the hair flip is a guaranteed way to make your guy's pupils dilate.

There are men in this popcorn flick as well, and good ones. Bill Murray is always a joy to have in your film. Why? Because he's dang good, you dope? Didn't you see Rushmore or Caddyshack? He brings the film to another notch in the comedy category, and again helps out with the Angels.

Other sources of testosterone on screen are Tim Curry as the subject of evil-doing, Luke Wilson wooing Diaz and Crispin Glover (Back to the Future as Fox's dad, among others) as The Thin Man, the Jaws-like arm of the bad guys who never says a word. Sam Rockwell is the telecommunications billionaire who is the reason the Angels get into this mess and Tom Green, Barrymore's boy toy in real life, has a cameo as tugboat captain The Chad, her insecure wannabe love slave.

In conclusion, leave my mixed expectations at the door and enjoy seeing buxom babes kickin' booty. It's good clean fun.