Democracy Diva: I was nine years old in 1997, when Spiceworld marched into theaters with the ferocity and panache of Posh Spice at choreography boot camp. For those who were not a child, tween, or teen in the late 90s, you may not be able to understand why this movie even exists. But insane as it is, I promise you, there was a market for this insanity, and I was IT. I know every word to every song in this “film” (ironic quotations marks required), and to me, it is prime snarking fodder. Let us begin!
The movie starts with super-cheesy brightly-colored silhouettes of our five leading ladies as “Too Much” starts playing over the opening credits. “Too Much” is pretty much the thesis for this entire movie. Everything about it is Too Much. And the 70s renaissance was REAL in the late 90s, you guys.
Eventually, we see the girls performing this song on stage, in all white outfits. I hope you poured a line of shots already, because the first Patented Posh Point takes place not three minutes into the movie (and that’s including the FBI Warning).
We see Alan Cumming as a documentary filmmaker, directing his sound engineer and pointing towards the girls. We also see Richard E. Grant, the Girls’ manager, looking angry on a cell phone. According to the credits, this movie is based on an idea by the Spice Girls and Kim Fuller, who Wikipedia tells me is the unsuccessful brother to the absurdly successful Simon Fuller, who created American Idol. Simon gets the millions, while Kim wrote From Justin to Kelly. That’s rough.
After the performance, Richard E. Grant (there are no character names in this movie, just the real names of the unreasonably talented veteran British stars of stage and screen who somehow agreed to star in this garbage film) ushers the Girls down the hall. While strutting fiercely, the Girls tease Grant for hating them because they make his life difficult. Cut to Alan Cumming, who is working on some sort of probably-unlicensed documentary of the Girls, and is all set up for them to finally appear in this hallway. But they’re busy leaving lipstick marks on Elton John’s face, and they skip right past Alan because his crew didn’t actually know which hallway they’d be in.
Richard E. Grant leads the Girls through a mob of tween fans, and they make their way onto…. THE SPICE BUS. This double-decker Union Jack bus is, on the inside, approximately the size of three penthouse apartments or perhaps a small mansion. And everything about it is THE ACTUAL BEST. And not just because the bus driver is Meatloaf. The girls each have a corner decorated to suit their personality/nickname, and then a pillow fight/cuddle puddle begins, because this movie has to cater to heterosexual men somehow.
At a press event, British Announcer Who Is Probably Also Famous informs us that the Girls are doing this huge concert that’s going to be live-streamed (or the 1997 equivalent of it) in every country in the world, or something. It’s a BFD, and the Girls are stoked and also show off their foreign language skills. Cut to a Hollywood Producers, who is watching the Girls on TV and thinks they’re just crying out for a blockbuster film. He and his Hollywood Writer agree to pitch their non-idea immediately.
Richard E. Grant is in a very futuristic office on the Bigger on the Inside Bus (BIBus). His boss Roger Moore calls him to warn about a Spice Girls backlash and say a lot of cryptic things that mean absolutely nothing, and he is stroking a cat while wearing a silk bathrobe. And I’ve seen this movie a dozen times, but I never noticed that Roger Moore actually shakes a martini while saying the line, “There’s no need for any stirring.” That is actually perfect. He hangs up and Richard E. Grant tells his blonde co-manager lady, Deborah, that Roger Moore makes no sense but is also totally correct.
Rehearsal. Scary Spice is wearing a space suit and nobody understands why. Alan Cumming and his crew are up on the balcony, far from the action, speechifying about the deep subconscious of the Girls. The Girls’ extremely pregnant friend Nicola is there, so they stop everything to talk about how crazy pregnant she is. AND her boyfriend left her, basically the day she was due to give birth, because Nicola’s life is rough. Alan Cumming’s crew tries to film this Very Special Spice Moment, but Posh is all, um, GTFO.
Cut to an imagined future of all the Spice Girls as moms, which is hilarious, because they’ve popped out a collective eight zillion children by now. They’re all fat and bitter and yelling at their kids for blasting the Spice Girls’ non-hit, “Mama.” Back to rehearsal, where the Girls cutely giggle together while some slow intro music plays. Then the beat comes in, and we get a taste of “Say You’ll Be There.” I still fucking love this song, you guys. And we get a bit of “Which one’s the Posh one?” “The one that looks Posh!” dialogue from Alan Cumming and his crew, plus another Patented Posh Point.
Cut to Daily Mail Event HQ, where we get quite the insane depiction of the British tabloid press. Editor Kevin spits a lot, and is very angry, and decides they need to break up the Spice Girls to sell more papers. He gets so mad that it literally starts thunderstorming inside his office. Nope, I can’t explain that one either.
Every time we cut to the BIBus, we get another ridiculous voice-over from Richard E. Grant about some zany thing the Girls have done, like refrigerating their conditioner or clogging the drains with their hair.
Hollywood Producer (HP) and his Hollywood Writer (HW) pitch their non-movie to Richard E. Grant. HW’s first pitch: five impoverished orphan girls supporting their elderly grandmother while Sporty dreams of being an Olympic skier, except she’s afraid of heights and snow and doesn’t own skis. Grant hates it. Pitch #2 is simply: “Crocodiles.”
BIBus. Baby Spice laments that she’ll still be seen as a baby even when she’s really old, like, THIRTY. Posh is like, um, then stop playing up to it 100% of the time. Cut to an imagined Clue-esque scene, where Baby gets away with murder because she’s all sweet and innocent. Oh, and it is established that Ginger is the smart one, because she can play chess and talks about mantereys. And because she’s a feminist, obviously. They decide they’re too stuck in their characters.
Cut to a photoshoot where they decide to play dress-up in a variety of increasingly-absurd costumes. You should really just watch this scene yourself, because it’s the fucking greatest fashion montage ever. We get Ginger as Marilyn Monroe, Sporty and Baby as Danny and Sandy from Grease, Baby as Twiggy, and finally, the Girls dressed up as each other. We even get a Patented Sporty-as-Posh Point!
Daily Mail Event HQ. RICHARD O’BRIEN (!!!!) plays the world’s creepiest stalkeriest paparazzi. And then disappears. Literally.
BIBus. It has a fire pole for easier travel from the top deck to the bottom, in case you were wondering. The girls go to some fancy party. Alan Cumming and his crew can’t get in, of course. Posh asks some Fashion Lady what she thinks about mantereys, and Fashion Lady insists she’s wearing Manterey shoes. Then she stage-whispers to her friend, “I’ve been talking to a Spice Girl!” And makes this completely disgusted face, and it’s a little bit amazing. Outside the club, Nicola takes pity on Alan Cumming and gets him and his crew into the party.
Inside, Nicola asks the Girls to be godmothers to her already-a-week-late baby. Deborah hurries the Girls off to some publicity events. Someone named Barnarby introduces himself to Nicola, hoping to meet a part of the Spice phenomenon, but she insists she’s “nobody,” so he ignores her. Nicola leaves looking sad and very pregnant. Richard O’Brien pops his head out from under a table and spies on the Girls, creating one of the greatest visual moments in film history:
Anyway, the horrible news story that comes out of this is that Ginger’s sarcastic “Is the Pope a Catholic?” gets taken literally, as if the Girls are questioning the Pope’s religion. Richard E. Grant is furious and calls Roger Moore who says something about dirty pants? I don’t know.
Milan. The Girls practice for a concert and sing the only song in this movie that isn’t on either of their albums. Shirtless ripped dudes in tiny shorts and sailor hats come in to dance behind them and the Girls can’t even keep lip-syncing because they’re so distracted by the Boys.
Ginger is grossed out, and Posh thinks it’s tacky. An Offensive Italian Stereotype (OIS) wants to know why the Girls have stopped rehearsing. Richard E. Grant threatens to break their contract unless the boys leave. OIS threatens to sue them if the Girls leave. Ginger breaks up their fight, and we learn the meaning of compromise during the performance that night.
The boys are in shiny purple-and-pink tuxedos, so all seems well, and even though all the Girls are pointing, I still think we deserve another Patented Posh Point shot:
Oh, and the compromise? The purple tuxedos have butt-cheek cut-outs. Really.
Back to London. On the BIBus, the girls really have to pee, so they run off into the woods. Richard E. Grant begs Meatloaf the bus driver to fix the toilet, but in the true meta fashion of this movie, he responds, “I love those Girls, and I’ll do anything for them… but I won’t do that.”
And now begins the most completely bonkers scene in this movie. In the woods, the girls see a UFO landing right in front of them. Too afraid to run, they just stand there frozen and watch some aliens de-board. The subtitles, helpfully translating from Martian to English, tell us that these Martians, like all creatures in the universe in 1997, are HUGE Spice Girls fans. The Martians asks for tickets to their big concert, and the girls apologize that the show is sold-out, because they speak Martian, of course. They sign autographs, and Ginger even kisses one of them on the lips.
Back to the BIBus, Richard E. Grant says he’s going to stand up to Chief Roger Moore and demand that the Girls get the morning off, since they’re so over-exhausted they’re hallucinating aliens. Roger Moore calls and answers Grant’s question before he can ask it – no, no morning off. It should be noted that Roger Moore is now stroking a bunny rabbit instead of a cat.
Richard E. Grant stops the Girls and says they can’t have the morning off. The Girls are pissed. They want to see Nicola, but he begs them to stay, probably so Roger Moore doesn’t kill him. They leave anyway, but then come back a second later and tease him like always.
CHOREOGRAPHY BOOT CAMP TIME. An extremely insane drill-sargeant-dance-teacher, Mr. Step, has a constantly-roving accent, pained and strangely formal choreography, and a completely mental attitude. The Girls cha-cha for a few counts, and then it’s time for a boot camp montage! They exit the barn (?) they’re rehearsing in, and they’re dressed in identical baggy camo fatigues. Except for Posh, of course – she’s in a camo spaghetti-strap super-tight mini-dress, and it’s my favorite thing ever.
They do military chants about “strength and courage and a Wonder-Bra,” and then the training course begins. Again, four of the girls go all-out through the course, but Posh just struts by each activity, teetering in her stilettos. The girls eventually chase off the crazy dance instructor.
Back at some creepy mansion that is never properly explained, each Girl wakes up terrified, hearing weird noises. The weird noise they hear is RICHARD O’BRIEN CRAWLING OUT OF THEIR TOILET. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. The Girls investigate and bump into each other, finally agreeing to hang in the same room because this house is totally haunted. And they also all had the same dream/vision/premonition last night, about doing the live show but not being able to sing… because they had no heads. Except Posh – in her dream, she had a head…. BUT THERE WAS NO MAKEUP ON IT! They think this means their show will be a disaster, and we see Richard O’Brien recording all of this from under their bed.
Richard E. Grant throws knives at the tabloid stories about the Girls. He runs out to some weird tent thing that they’re all hanging out in, and they’re like, uh, we don’t give a fuck about this bad press. They laugh as he walks away, and they think he just needs a girlfriend so he’s not so stressed. They’re hopeful that he’s interested in Deborah.
Now, I’m not sure if we’re back at the same meeting with Richard E. Grant and the Hollywood guys, or if this is a different meeting but in the same location and I think they’re all wearing the same clothes. But whatever. Hollywood Writer pitches another version of the Spice movie – some sort of apocalyptic thriller about the Spice Force Five, trained in spying and fighting and dressing up like old famous actors and all this stuff. For some reason, Posh’s superpower seems to be that she meows like a cat, and of course, points.
Alan Cumming Documentary. Two kids – one of whom is apparently a boy, but I definitely always forget that – have won a contest to spend the day with the Spice Girls. They bring the kids onto the BIBus, and I am so fucking jealous of these kids it’s not even funny. Scary spies a boat outside, and decides they should all run off the BIBus and, I guess, steal this boat? Oh, actually, they ask to borrow it, and the guy agrees because, you know, they’re Spice Girls.
On the boat, the Girls and the kids sing “My Boy Lollipop” together and it’s really adorable, except that none of their life vests actually seem to be inflated. Alan Cumming and his crew are on a boat right behind them. Richard E. Grant and Deborah debate over whether the Girls need to just be human sometimes or not. Suddenly, the boat takes a sharp turn and tips over, and THE CHILDREN GO FLYING INTO THE THAMES. Sporty jumps into the water to rescue them, as does Posh, and Alan Cumming accidentally gets pushed off his boat by his crew.
The Girls pull Sporty, Posh, and the two kids out of the water.
Big Giant Stadium Theater. Richard E. Grant cannot fucking handle this bad press. He lectures the girls, reminding them how many people work their asses of for them – like Deborah, who actually just wants to be left out of this. Their live show is tomorrow, and Richard E. Grant does not want them to fuck this up. The Girls stand up for themselves, and say their freedom and personal relationships matter too. Grant asks if this means they’re bailing on the gig, and Ginger’s basically like, MAYBE, DICKHEAD. The Girls look shocked. Scary clarifies that it’s up to THEM whether they show up to this gig – not him. Sporty doesn’t want to let down the fans, Baby doesn’t want them to fight, and Posh just wants to know whether she needs to show up or not. Everybody individually storms off. Grant asks Deborah what she thinks, and she says he just lost this fight.
Grant calls Roger Moore, who now appears to be petting a teacup pig that is wearing a diamond collar. I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried. Cryptic dialogue ensues.
Daily Mail Event. The editor is simply thrilled about all this bad press. That is all.
Cut to “a very long time ago,” when the Spice Girls look two-to-five years younger than they were in 1997. The Girls have a joint FLASHBACK in their heads to the same scene, eating at a diner before they got their big break. They perform a low-rent version of “Wannabe,” singing into ketchup bottles and the like, and Nicola is there looking adorable and nodding along. A very obvious body double of Sporty Spice does a backflip.
Back in the ’97-present, the Girls meet up at the old diner, which is now for rent and boarded up. They chill by a river and wonder how much they’ve changed because of their fame. Imaginary!cut to them being on trial, and I think that crazy choreography instructor plays the judge, which I definitely never noticed before. He sentences them to their next single starting at #193 on the charts and falling off immediately. Back in reality, they talk about how they need to be a better friend to Nicola, even if it means staying up all night the night before a big show.
In a nearby pub, Richard E. Grant picks his head up off the bar only to pour more whiskey down his throat. Deborah says, you’re life isn’t so bad. I have three important degrees and I’m using them to find a Spice Girl’s sneakers, for God’s sake. Deborah orders a gin and tonic from the bartender, who is quietly played by Elvis Costello. Again: EVERYONE is in this movie. That is the power of Spice.
The Girls go clubbing with Nicola, who is totally down to dance all night at a drag club when she is A WEEK PAST HER DUE DATE. A remix of “Who Do You Think You Are” plays in the club and the Girls basically ditch Nicola to go dance to their own song, because they don’t understand how to be friends with people who aren’t Spice Girls. They just wave at her, and, of course, Posh points.
Suddenly, Nicola’s face changes, and the Girls realize she’s going into labor. They rush her outside the club, steal a dude’s phone, and call an ambulance, but there’s no time. Sporty tells Meatloaf they’re having a baby, and everyone gets on the BIBus. On board, Ginger is wearing yellow rubber gloves and they all try to figure out how the fuck to deliver a baby. They’re all idiots and hilarious and this scene makes me really, really happy.
Nicola’s pushing and all the Girls are cheering her along. In the waiting area, some parents ask some of the Girls to talk to their son, who’s in a coma. Posh, Ginger, and Sporty try to talk him out of unconsciousness, because that’s a thing, I guess. Posh thinks that simply screaming at him will do the trick:
Posh jokes that Ginger should take her top off. Ginger doesn’t see the point, because the kid’s eyes are closed, and suddenly his eyes pop open, because THAT is the power of Ginger’s boobs.
Meanwhile, Richard E. Grant is stressed, and Deborah has no clue where the Girls are and doesn’t really seem to care. But she calls them, and Scary tells her Nicola’s in labor and they’re not leaving her, big show be damned. Richard E. Grant lights a cigarette because you could still do that in a movie geared towards children in the late 90s. The nurses talk about how they’re HOPEFULLY going to the Spice Girls concert tonight, and it’s a little bit awkward.
Alan Cumming has his crew zoom in on a fuming, chain-smoking Richard E. Grant, knowing he’s about to crack. Hollywood Producer and Hollywood Writer ask Grant if they can talk – again, I think they’ve been wearing the same clothes all week – and pitch another story. Alan Cumming talks about how it’s moments until showtime and the Girls aren’t there. And Nicola delivers a beautiful baby girl, full of girl power and awesomeness and maybe a little bit of that gin Nicola had at the club. The Girls are amazed and thrilled and it’s very sweet.
On their way out of the hospital, the Girls run into Richard O’Brien, dressed in scrubs but clutching a very gigantic camera. They realize he’s been stalking them and they chase him through the hospital – with Sporty in front, because she’s the only one in sneakers instead of platform heels. In voiceover, Hollywood Writer narrates what’s happening, as we realize that he’s pitching this movie – as in, the one we’re watching – to Richard E. Grant. Richard O’Brien is moved to tears by the girls, realizing his life has been a lie, and Richard E. Grant asks how the story ends. Hollywood Writer says that Richard O’Brien goes after the Daily Mail Event editor, and the Girls have to book it to Albert Hall for their big show.
HW narrates their race against time – Meatloaf is nowhere to be found, so the Girls have to drive the BIBus themselves. Posh stomps a stiletto on the gas, and the giant fucking vehicle careens through the streets of London. HW continues his narration, about how the Queen sees them out her window, and the Girls yell greetings to Harry and William and Charles from the BIBus.
Suddenly, they’re on top of the BIBus, and they’re all about to fall off (damn platforms!) until Posh slams on the breaks. They tumble back inside. Posh speeds towards the Tower Bridge, which is opening to let a boat pass through. But does that stop the BIBus? NOPE! They jump the gap. Hollywood Producer thinks a flying bus sounds expensive, and so we cut to a toy model of the BIBus flying over the Tower Bridge. Not so expensive after all!
Oh, and did we mention there’s a bomb on the bus?
And now Hollywood Producer and Hollywood Writer are trying to fight each other, but Writer says the Spice Girls hurdle down the hallway and burst through this door right here in this room. After a pause, when the Girls don’t show, Richard E. Grant calls HW a lying liar who lies, and starts choking the shit out of him, demanding to know where the Girls are.
The BIBus pulls up to Albert Hall, and the theme from Rocky plays as the Girls run up the steps. They’re stopped by the police, who accuse them of “flying a bus without a license,” and they make Baby play up her pigtails to convince the cops to let them go. Backstage, Alan Cumming tells his film crew to just shut up and watch Richard E. Grant explode. Grant holds up a noose and says he’ll hang himself if the Girls don’t show. Just as he yells about how he hates them, the Girls run in, and Grant starts screaming how much he loves them. Alan Cumming is actually pissed that his documentary does not end with Grant’s center-stage suicide. This movie is kind of dark, you guys.
Grant calls Roger Moore, who is now feeding the teacup pig out of a bottle – really – and tells Moore that the show is back on. Grant attempts, poorly, to apologize to Deborah for being such a douche. The show begins, and “Spice Up Your Life” starts blaring as fireworks explode. Hollywood Producer and Hollywood Writer dance in the balcony, along with Richard E. Grant, who agrees to help make their movie. We see familiar faces in the crowd – the kids who almost drowned, and the cop who almost arrested them for illegal bus-flying – and Meatloaf dances backstage. Alan Cumming and his crew rock out in the aisles, Roger Moore shakes his ass in his penthouse, and Deborah and Richard E. Grant groove with their arms around each other. Nicola and her newborn baby girl and the nurse watch from the hospital, the Martians dance – possibly back on Mars – wearing SPICE tee shirts, a news anchor who reported their bad press grooves on the air, and the song ends and the crowd goes wild.
As the credits roll, we get fake behind-the-scenes discussions between the cast and crew. This obscenely meta scene is the brilliant cherry on top of the completely fucking bananas sundae that is this movie. Richard O’Brien – this time AS Richard O’Brien – asks Hollywood Writer why his character hates the Spice Girls. HW explains that he’s a symbol of corruption or some such garbage. Richard E. Grant (as himself) talks on the phone about his role, worrying that he’s ending his career. Alan Cumming (as himself) is okay with not using his real accent, but he hates his ridiculous chest-wig. Someone rips it off as Alan greets Sporty, and the woman playing Deborah asks which one of them is Mel B and which is Mel C. They greet the Deborah actress with a line from her movie or something – IMDB tells me she’s been in approximately eight billion British TV shows and plenty of films, but I’m a stupid American so I don’t actually know her.
The Girls ask Hollywood Writer about their characters. Sporty doesn’t want to be on an exercise bike the entire time – which she actually is – and Scary makes an “I’m not from LONDON” joke that HW doesn’t get because Americans don’t understand that not all of England is London. Suddenly, Sporty stares into the camera and they realize there are people watching them. They talk directly to us and ask why we’re still watching these damn credits. They realize we must be wondering what happened to the bomb on the bus – as if that was the most ridiculous thing to happen in this movie – and they jump as they hear a giant explosion.
END OF MOVIE. I could not have had more fun with this, you guys. Thank you for letting me put you all through whatever the fuck this was.
And now, the tweets:
Why isn’t the Columbia Pictures lady wearing a Union Jack minidress? #snarkathon #spiceworld
— Democracy Diva (@democracydiva) May 2, 2015
I forgot how much Victoria now-Beckham likes to point at stuff #snarkathon
— Alex (@AlexTheAJ) May 2, 2015
Dear Rest of World. You’re welcome. Love England xxx #snarkathon
— Alex (@AlexTheAJ) May 2, 2015
He just described this movie, “Absolutely perfect, without actually being any good.” #snarkathon #spiceworld
— Gibhatch (@gibhatch) May 2, 2015
If I win the lottery, I am BUYING THAT BUS. #Spiceworld #snarkathon
— Democracy Diva (@democracydiva) May 2, 2015
Old white man tries to destroy girl power 17 years ago. Nothing has changed. #snarkathon #spiceworld
— Samantha Ania (@SamanthaSpice91) May 2, 2015
@mynameismarines there is no “knowing what’s going on” in a Spice World. #snarkathon #SpiceWorld
— Alias: Jay Thomas (@jaythomasradio) May 2, 2015
WHY ARE ACTUAL ACTORS IN THIS? #SpiceWorld #snarkathon
— Mari (@mynameismarines) May 2, 2015
It’s like every minor British celebrity was willing to fight to the death for a bit part in this movie. #snarkathon
— Alex (@AlexTheAJ) May 2, 2015
Please explain the space suit. Anyone. #snarkathon #spiceworld
— Gibhatch (@gibhatch) May 2, 2015
I had COMPLETELY blocked this alien scene from my memory.#snarkathon
— Alex (@AlexTheAJ) May 2, 2015
That scene literally just changed my life. #SpiceWorld #snarkathon
— Mari (@mynameismarines) May 2, 2015
This film doesn’t depict even a tenth of how terrible the British tabloid press actually is #snarkathon
— Alex (@AlexTheAJ) May 2, 2015
I feel like I’ve been pointing incorrectly my entire life. #snarkathon #spiceworld
— Mari (@mynameismarines) May 2, 2015
It’s 2015– do we know what zig-a-zig-ah means yet? #snarkathon #SpiceWorld
— Mari (@mynameismarines) May 2, 2015
Do Eddie and Riff Raff ever get a scene together in this film? #snarkathon
— Alex (@AlexTheAJ) May 2, 2015
Good thing he was carrying that spare noose. #snarkathon #SpiceWorld
— Mari (@mynameismarines) May 2, 2015
“I bet some fully-grown adults are watching this fifteen years from now and using a computer to talk about it!” #snarkathon #spiceworld
— Democracy Diva (@democracydiva) May 2, 2015
RIP bigger on the inside bus. #snarkathon#spiceworld
— Gibhatch (@gibhatch) May 2, 2015
Join us next month when Sweeney takes a turn leading #snarkathon! We’ll be watching Mortal Kombat alone/together on June 6th at 4PM GMT/12PM EST.
See you then!
I'm a J.D. by day/blogger by night who directs her snark and judgment primarily towards celebrities and their many red carpet mishaps. Blogging from the style capital of the world (just kidding - I live in DC), I rant and rave over the best and worst in fashion and pop culture.
