The angels are a giggly, unrealistic, scantily clad, stereotypical male fantasy.

And I desperately want to be one of them.

In the colorful sequel to the 2000 hit Charlie’s Angels, ditzy Natalie (Cameron Diaz), boy-crazy Dylan (Drew Barrymore), and sophisticated Alex (Lucy Liu) are called in to protect the FBI’s Witness Protection Program. Madison Lee (Demi Moore), a ‘fallen’ angel, has gotten her hands on the list of names and is planning to sell them to the highest bidder.

Since the original film attracted a mostly female audience, director McG decided to kick the sequel up a notch to bring in the boys, adding more violence, sexual innuendos, and skimpy outfits. The violence in the first movie, while extensive, was cartoonish and fun. In Charlie’s Angels: Full Throttle, the fighting is bloody, knock-down, drag-out ass-kicking. The angels still prefer to kick those asses with stilettos, of course.

The film’s many sexual double entendres are clever and pretty risquí©. Upon discovering that she and her boyfriend were both college mascots, Natalie exclaims, “You were the cock? I was the beaver!”

Throughout its two hours, Full Throttle whizzes along at breakneck speed, a kaleidoscope of colors, music, costumes, foreign accents, and quick editing. The story isn’t terribly complex, but the formula works. The three main stars share a boatload of charisma and their close friendship off-screen is apparent throughout the film.

And then Demi Moore shows up. And she still can’t act. If you listen carefully, you can almost hear the life fizzing out of every frame in which she appears. She doesn’t seem to be enjoying herself, her lines are delivered in monotone, and she has no chemistry with any of the other principal actors. It’s a good thing the 40-year-old Moore is making headlines by dating 25-year-old actor Ashton Kutcher, because there’s no way her performance will make any.

The film’s other major faltering point comes early in the film. After getting the viewer’s heart pumping with a rousing, James Bondian opening sequence, Full Throttle stalls out with an awkward flashback montage introducing the sexy superheroes as youngsters. The sequence seems out of place and the flashbacks aren’t as funny as they should be.

Charlie’s Angels: Full Throttle promised more action, more disguises, more sexuality, and the great Moore herself. On the first three counts, Full Throttle definitely delivers. Let’s just try to forget about the fourth.