Alright, rewind your minds with me. Picture this: it's late 1997, maybe early '98. You’re browsing the aisles of Blockbuster, the fluorescent lights humming overhead, the smell of popcorn and plastic cases in the air. And there it is – a bright, bold VHS box emblazoned with five figures who were, at that precise moment, arguably the most famous women on the planet. Spice World. Admit it, whether you were a die-hard fan chanting "Girl Power!" or a bewildered parent dragged along for the ride, you probably watched it. And you probably remember it.
Released at the absolute zenith of Spice Mania, Spice World isn't so much a movie as it is a glorious, chaotic, utterly bonkers pop-culture phenomenon captured on celluloid. Trying to describe the plot is like trying to nail jelly to a wall. Essentially, it follows the Spice Girls – Victoria Adams (soon-to-be Beckham), Melanie Brown, Emma Bunton, Melanie Chisholm, and Geri Halliwell – in the five days leading up to their massive debut concert at London's Royal Albert Hall. Along the way, they navigate demanding managers, frantic rehearsals, tabloid hounds, encounters with aliens (yes, really), and the pressures of global superstardom, all while zipping around London in their ridiculously customized double-decker Spice Bus.
Plot? Who Needs a Plot?
Let's be honest, the narrative thread here is thinner than Posh Spice's eyebrows circa '97. Written by Kim Fuller (brother of their manager, Simon Fuller, who reportedly knocked out the script in just a couple of weeks), the film feels less like a structured story and more like a series of hyper-stylized music videos and surreal sketches stitched together. It deliberately leans into the meta, constantly winking at the audience and the absurdity of the Spice Girls' own manufactured image. This self-awareness, guided by director Bob Spiers – a veteran of classic British sitcoms like Fawlty Towers and Absolutely Fabulous, which explains the film's anarchic, slightly camp energy – is arguably its saving grace. It never takes itself seriously, inviting you to just go along for the ride.
And what a ride! Remember that Spice Bus? Decked out with Union Jack livery and featuring individual zones reflecting each Spice personality (Posh's catwalk, Baby's swing set), it was the kind of gloriously impractical vehicle only peak 90s pop could justify. Filming primarily on location in London, the movie captures that specific "Cool Britannia" moment – a snapshot of optimistic, Britpop-infused energy that felt inescapable at the time.
Cameo Chaos and That 90s Shine
Part of the sheer fun of rewatching Spice World now is playing "spot the cameo." The filmmakers somehow convinced a jaw-dropping array of talent to show up for blink-and-you'll-miss-them appearances. We get Richard E. Grant chewing scenery as the girls' stressed-out manager, Alan Cumming as a documentary filmmaker, Meat Loaf as their kindly bus driver Dennis, and even Roger Moore as the enigmatic, cat-stroking "Chief." Add Elton John, Bob Geldof, Jennifer Saunders (as a grotesque fashionista), and a host of other British comedy stalwarts like Stephen Fry and Hugh Laurie, and you have a cast list that reads like a fever dream. It's rumoured many agreed to appear simply because their own kids were huge Spice Girls fans – a testament to the group's cultural dominance.
The Spice Girls themselves aren't exactly channeling Meryl Streep, but they bring an infectious, surprisingly game energy to their exaggerated personas. Their line deliveries might be occasionally wooden, but their chemistry and palpable sense of fun carry the film. They were living this whirlwind for real, and the film cleverly blends their actual personas with their stage characters. It's fascinating to watch now, knowing the internal dynamics and Geri's impending departure just months after the film's release. Despite the critical panning (it famously "won" the Golden Raspberry Award for Worst Actress for all five), the film was a box office smash, pulling in over $151 million worldwide against a $25 million budget – proving that critical opinion often mattered less than pure fan devotion in the age of blockbuster VHS rentals.
More Than Just Fizzy Pop?
Beneath the glitter, platform shoes, and relentless cheerfulness, Spice World does capture something specific about that era. It’s pure, unadulterated escapism. The colours pop like bubblegum, the editing is frenetic like an MTV video marathon, and the soundtrack is wall-to-wall Spice hits. There’s a charming lack of cynicism (mostly) that feels distinctly pre-internet-snark. It’s a film powered entirely by personality, catchy tunes, and the sheer force of will of five young women who, for a brief, shining moment, had the world at their feet.
Does it hold up as great cinema? Of course not. The jokes are often silly, the plot is non-existent, and some of the effects look charmingly dated now. But does it hold up as a vibrant, hilarious, and surprisingly endearing time capsule of late 90s pop culture? Absolutely. I distinctly remember renting this tape multiple times, the sheer energy radiating even through a fuzzy CRT screen.
VHS Heaven Rating: 7/10
Justification: Spice World knows exactly what it is: a fun, frothy, self-aware vehicle for a global pop sensation. It succeeds brilliantly on those terms. While lacking in narrative depth or polished performances, its infectious energy, killer soundtrack, surreal humour (thanks, Bob Spiers!), incredible cameos, and perfect capture of the "Girl Power" zeitgeist make it far more entertaining than critics gave it credit for. It earns points for sheer audacity and its status as a defining piece of 90s nostalgia.
Final Thought: Forget cinematic masterpieces; Spice World is the movie equivalent of finding a forgotten bag of your favourite childhood sweets – pure, unadulterated, slightly artificial, but guaranteed to put a massive, nostalgic grin on your face. Zig-a-zig-ah, indeed.