Back from the beach and into SALT starring Angelina Jolie as a secret agent or two or three– who is she, Evelyn Salt? I really didn’t care. All I cared about was seeing her in different clothes and wigs and eyecolors and hats–like my own giant cinematic Barbie. In big luscious close up. Those lips. Those eyes. Those cheek bones. Those legs. That gait. The way she leaps tall buildings in a single bound like superwoman, flying onto moving vehicles, fashioning impromptu explosives out of ketchup and chair legs, disabling mountains of men with a flick of her perfectly turned calves and a couple of guns rambo style. Make that “rimbaud” style. There is no more sensual killing machine in all of movies today. Step aside Iron Man, Bat Man, Spider Man, X-men, and Jason Bourne. Forgive me, but Angelina makes me proud to be a woman.

The movie is a trifle, big on marginally believable exposition and frenetically directed action. There’s little texture in the way of character and drama. The great actor Liev Schreiber has little to do. And we know Angelina can act. Remember GIRL INTERRUPTED? Well one of these days she’s going to make a movie that harnesses all of her visceral, physical impact, and enormous emotional clout– and we’ll be beside ourselves. But for right now, this summer, let’s just say she’s doing what all larger than life movie stars can do–act out a few fantasies to entertain us. So I’ve extended my week at the beach, the salt air, the salt water– and now that I’m back: SALT.