But Spiceworld has absolutely nothing to be said for it. The film is a glib and pathetic pastiche of movies about musicians, movie stars, and superheros (and the Spice Girls are excluded from all three categories.) The film claims to be based on an idea by writer Kim Fuller and the Spice Girls. One pictures them at the video store pointing to their favorite movies from which to rob ideas like bus that trots the girls around London which has the proportions of Dr. Who's Police Box. But the result is sad sad sad.

The bimbo quintet obviously have friends, though, as evidenced by the various celebrety appearances. Comedian Barry Humphreys--little known in the U.S. but beloved in the Antipodes for his Dame Edna persona--is the newspaper editor who would like to see less sugar and more dirt about the spice girls. And Roger Moore obviously enjoys himself as the pseudo-villainous Chief, deliciously reminiscent of the evil antiheroes he fought so elegantly as Simon Templar and then as James Bond.

It's certainly nice to see Richard O'Brien and Meatloaf again. The pair were last seen together in The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Along with these four larger guest appearances there are a number of cameos, but nothing can save this movie from utter ridicule, since it is nothing more than an absolutely miserable collection of fru-fru.

The only true element of this movie is the title, Spiceworld. Spice is a condiment, a seasoning, a relish, which is not meant to be served alone. In fact, I believe spice was originally employed to disguise rotten meat. So believe me that this film turkey, and not a well one at that. The best you can hope for here, is that triptohane will put you to sleep within five minutes of the first scene, so that at least you might emerge from the cinema refreshed from a nap.