Spicy gabfest

A glimpse of the Spice Girls phenomenon, in their own words

Having taken pains to avoid thinking about the bizarre phenomenon known as the Spice Girls for as long as possible, I knew I couldn't hide this time.

The frothy fivesome has made it to television.

Music videos I can avert my eyes from. A one-hour documentary is hard to ignore.

Girls Talk makes its Canadian premiere on Citytv tonight at 8.

And I have to admit it's very watchable, even mildly intriguing, if only because, as the title suggests, we get the goods straight from the Girls themselves.

What the producers have done is tone down the cringe factor of facing all five at once, crazy hairdos, platform knee-high boots, crazed laughter, girly antics and all.

Here, thankfully, we meet them separately -- Ginger (Geri), Baby (Emma), Scary (Mel C.), Sporty (Mel B) and Posh (Victoria) Spice -- each sitting on a beautiful chaise. These individual interviews are scattered throughout the hour, filling the bulk of its time, with each woman discussing what selling 16 million copies of Spice (at the time of shooting) has meant to her.

In between, we see the five dressed-to-the-nines gals striking poses on a balcony at Cannes promoting the upcoming feature, Spiceworld, in their videos, romping around New York and performing for a delirious crowd at the Brit Awards (a far cry from the booing masses at the recent Barcelona ONDA Entertainment Awards ceremony).

Alone, each Spice comes across as level-headed -- if not a rocket scientist -- and, dare I say, endearing.

We learn that two of the girls were homeless at one time -- and they've all been on the dole.

Victoria still carries around a stuffed rabbit and is known to suck her thumb on occasion. They all wear matching "Spice Girl rings," bought just as they were about to hit it big. And they all have dance training.

Scary Spice decorates with leopard skin rugs, sheets, lamps -- you name it. Her mom even bought her leopard-print G-strings.

Sure, the un-posh Brit accents and colloquial vocabulary help.

Sporty Spice, who perhaps reveals the most in this outing, tells us that she's the early riser of the bunch (to go and work out, one presumes), using this vocabulary: "The other girls are rubbish at getting up early."

Or, on the topic of nasty rumors: "So fink whatcha want."

Sure, there are contradictions.

Sporty Spice bemoans the tabloid press, who like to make stuff up about the girls. Then Ginger rationalizes her past as a topless page three model in those same tabloids as being part of "British heritage."

Equally as baffling is the Spice Girls' ability to be all things to all people. We see them busting out of their bra tops at the Brit Awards one minute, inspiring lust from their male fans. Next it's a cozy sit-down sing-a-long scene with youngsters -- a toddler on each Spice Girl lap. Then we see a clip of the group performing their ballad Mama and trotting out a few of their own moms.

Sex kittens who inspire pubescent boys, middle-aged men, proud moms and adoring six-year-olds?

Well, there it is. Something has to account for their near world domination.

Don't expect any probing inquiry into the power of marketing and promotion here. They all brush off suggestions that they don't write their own material and that they're a manufactured product.

Ginger Spice, looking as earthy as ever here, beams, "They could never had manufactured anything so imperfect."

See, the film is telling us, these are just regular girls who got a break.

Spice Girl fans will feel like they've spent an hour in heaven. Critics will likely change the channel. Skeptics, like me, just might come out of the experience at with, if not a reason for it, a glimpse of what the fuss is all about.