The Spicy Ones have approached their film - and I use the term loosely - most wisely. Sensibly realising that there'd be no point in trying to pretend to be anyone else, or confusing the issue with anything resembling a plot, what you get is exactly what you'd expect. Five cheeky, chirpy chappesses in big shoes, spending the week before their Big Concert shopping, meeting aliens, avoiding sleazy tabloid bosses and making obscene amounts of money. Numerous "resting" celebrities feature alongside endless dream sequences, and yes, the whole thing is poorly scripted, unimaginitive and badly acted, but it's no better than it should be. Fair play to 'em, I