Theatrical review of Angel-A

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One of the most striking and troublesome new archetypes to emerge from popular culture I the past decade or so is the "hot chick who kicks ass." The beginning of the "ass-kicking hottie" cycle can't be precisely pinpointed, but it probably has some of its roots in Luc Besson's stylish and influential "La Femme Nikita" (1990) in which Anne Parillaud plays a two-bit con who avoids jail time by being trained as a stone-cold assassin. Nikita produced numerous copycats in film and television ("Alias" being the most direct copy), but even more so in the video game world with Lara Croft being the most obvious and well-known example. Of course, women were kicking ass in Hong Kong films before Nikita iced her first victim, but even in Asian markets, the hyper-macho grrlpower movement didn't develop en masse until the 1990s ("Heroic Trio," etc.)

The ass-kicking hottie's enormous popularity raises some significant questions, especially when you consider that they are usually created by men and produced primarily for male audiences. Generalizing about audience psychology is a bit of a mug's game, but I don't think I'm going out on a limb to say that this character doesn't represent feminist liberation nearly as much as she represents male wish fulfillment. Man heterosexual men want sex with beautiful women without the burden of having to actually spend time with (yuck!) girls. What a dream then to have someone who's as cool to hang out with as your male buddies, but who also looks great in a mini-skirt.

With "Angel-A," Luc Besson returns to the sort-of genre that he sort-of created by upping the male fantasy factor even further. Poor André (Jamel Debbouze) is great at making ambitious plans, but is logistically challenged. In layman's terms, he's a total screw-up. Owing money to every two bit Parisian hoodlum in the business, he soon finds himself on a bridge, ready to make the final leap. But then he sees a gorgeous blonde in a (very) mini-skirt standing one column over from him. She jumps and André reflexively follows, trying to save the poor woman from herself. When they swim ashore (it wasn't even a very high bridge – more poor planning by André), she introduces herself as Angela (Rie Rasmussen), and seems remarkably composed for someone who just tried to commit suicide.

Angela offers to stay with André and do whatever he asks, no questions asked. And she certainly comes in handy when André's associated come calling for debts because she's able to take out an entire group with one swift kick. Talk about a fantasy. But wait, there's more. She's not just an ass-kicking hottie who does everything that André tells her to; she also happens to be his guardian angel. A leggy blonde guardian angel who takes orders and is ready for love whenever you are? To hell with Lara Croft or Sydney Bristow, Angela is the perfect woman.

Luc Besson started off his career with great promise with the underseen and underrated "Le dernier combat" (1983), as well as "La Femme Nikita," and "Leon" (1994, AKA "The Professional"), but went rapidly downhill with the unbearably annoying "The Fifth Element" (1997) and watchable but instantly forgettable "The Messenger: The Story of Joan of Arc" (1999). With everything I've described so far, it would seem that the once-promising Besson has set himself for yet another disappointment. Certainly most critics view it that way, but Besson takes a questionable premise and somehow transforms it into his most satisfying film in more than a decade.

As clichéd as the story might be, writer/director Besson grounds this goofy fantasy in the moment-to-moment reality of a developing relationship between a man and a woman. Though a cast of colorful crooks crowd the screen from time to time, nearly every scene features just André and Angela talking, getting to know a little more about each other (well, OK, Angela already knows everything about André) and developing a genuine and believable mutual affection. Angela functions not only as André's bodyguard, but also his very own self-help guru, forcing him to look inside himself to find his true beauty. She encourages him to get in touch with his feminine qualities, which sounds like the setup for a crass punch-line, but here is delivered with total sincerity when Angela observes that her charge has somehow adapted some of the best female qualities while holding onto only the worst male ones. Under her tutelage, André transforms from a self-loathing, insecure bungler to a proud, confident man. More male wish fulfillment to be sure, but the strong performances by both Debbouze and Rasmussen make it all work.

Besson shoots the film in gorgeous black-and-white 'Scope, and aside from a few irritating camera swishes, he designs the film very much like a graphic novel or perhaps anime as the title somewhat suggests. Besson employs many straight-on static two-shots with lovely Parisian backgrounds. It's a pleasure to watch on the big screen.

I found André to be one of the more compelling protagonists of any film released in America this year. One in a long series of charmingly incompetent cons, he distinguishes himself by being such a sensitive, vulnerable, contemplative character who wears his self-hatred on his sleeve for the world to see. He's one of the walking wounded, and Angela's reclamation efforts aren't just male fantasy, but genuine empathy from the heavens above, which is, of course, another kind of fantasy altogether, but in this case a rather moving one. He's also one of the few Arab protagonists I can think of whose identity is not related in any way (pro or con) to any Middle Eastern conflicts. He claims alternately to be an American citizen, a Moroccan, and a native Parisian, but it doesn't really matter.

"Angel-A" can be dismissed as an adolescent male fantasy, but even if that's all it is, it's an emotionally satisfying one. The ending is a little too sappy for my taste, but I thought the film worked as a hybrid crime caper/romantic comedy/coming-of-age tale. And though the film will blow out of theaters too quickly to even be an afterthought come Oscar time, I'll be surprised if I see many performances better than Debbouze's this year.

On the DVDTown scale, I give the film a "7" out of 10, though I'm leaning much closer to an 8.

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