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While the entire 3B Theater gang gears up and heads to Chicago for B-Fest, Naked Bill Rinehart takes one for the team and reviews this stink-bomb of a celebrity vehicle. How bad it is it? The star had a friggin nervous breakdown after it's completion. That should be a handy clue. And while he's at, I'd also like to take this opportunity to throw down the gauntlet and challenge his Nakedness to a trifecta of this thing, Crossroads and Spice World. Hell, he LIKES Spice World, and one of them's already done, so, c'mon pally, You wanna live forever?

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The film opens in a smoky, dingy bar. A woman is crooning on-stage, her daughter is sipping a glass of milk, (probably with a human hair in it), at the bar. The woman is Lillian Franks, (Valarie Pettiford). Her daughter, is Billie, (named for the great jazz singer Billie Holly. Or Billie Day, or something like that.) At mom’s direction, shy young Billie comes on stage to sing. Her voice sounds mysteriously like that of singing sensation Mariah Carey, but with some audio tricks meant to make it sound young and unpolished. Mom demands an answer from the audience: "Didn’t I tell you she could sing?", and the audience, cowed and obviously terrified for their lives, acknowledges that it is so. The girl can sing. (Just not as well as the cockatiel I had in college.)

Billie gets sent off to an orphanage, or a boarding school, or something, in New York, where she and her cat make immediate friends. (What? You didn’t notice the cat before? Must have been an oversight on your part, because Billie’s had that cat, like, forever.) Louise and Roxanne, two streetwise, but lovable, imps show an interest in "Whiskers" the cat, and seal the life-long friendship between the three girls. (Hear that orphans? Get yourself a cat. You’ll be better off in no-time.)

I’m not sure what year it was when the movie started, but suddenly, its 1983, and Billie (Mariah Carey), Roxy (Tia Texada) and Louise (Da Brat) are professional dancers, shaking their things on the stage of a hip New York City night club. (Oooh ya. This place is trendy. It even has "leopard print clothing night". I vonder if ve can get some of those fancy drinks with umbrellas in dem, ya.) Anyway, after their shift is done, the girls are approached by music producer Timothy Walker (Terrence Howard) who is looking for backup singers for his girl, Silk (Padma Lakshmi). We soon find out that Silk needs more than backup singers. Walker is actually using Billie’s voice to promote Silk. (For those of you younger than 30, think Milli Vanilli. For those older than 30, think Singing in the Rain.)

The ruse is uncovered when Billie has enough of Silk’s attitude and belts out a tune in front of New York’s hippest, and whitest DJ, Dice (Max Beesley). (Dice has less soul than the overnight guy on any given AM radio station. And that includes Larry King and George Norry.) Dice gets a good example of Billie’s potential with an "open mike" routine that’s just one step away from a karaoke version of "The Rose". Then, he persuades her to work for him. He negotiates with Timothy for Billie’s contact (which we never saw signed, or notarized), and soon is in the recording studio, with the ingénue.

Dice takes Billie to a fancy restaurant, so she can make a joke about escargot, and then it’s back to his apartment, where we find he’s more than just a DJ. He’s a musician, too. And he has a picture of himself as a young boy. (How many pictures of yourself do you frame and keep out in view?) Not only is he a musician, but he plays that most romantic of instruments, the jazz xylophone. Billie is overcome with lust for his xylophonic abilities and they hop in the sack.

Life is soon a whirlwind for the young singing sensation, Billie Frank. She hears her song on the radio, gets a publicist, and makes her first video. Unfortunately, the label head doesn’t like Billie’s friends, Roxy and Louise, and axes them from the shoot. (To make up for the rejection, Billie takes them on a 5-second shopping spree at the Gold-Lame’-R-Us Store.) But that whirlwind isn’t all fun and games for some of the people in Billie’s life. Dice is slowly losing control, and he doesn’t like it. The label doesn’t like what he’s producing, and he doesn’t like the director hired for her video. Dice runs into Timothy, who reminds us that he hasn’t seen any of the $100,000 he wanted for Billie’s contract. (It should be pointed out that we never saw Dice agree to the price. He just said that unless Timothy gave up management of Billie, none of Timothy’s other projects would ever get played in the clubs where Dice sometimes DJ’s. Who has legal right to Billie? Find out, next, on The People’s Court!)

To make up for the rejection, Billie buys Dice a keyboard and he invites her to move in. She remembers her mom, has a good cry, and writes a song about her. (Mariah plays piano with a slow left hand.) Billie decides to find her mom, but the social service agency has lost track.

The label wants other producers to work with Billie, and they fire Dice, who covers up his hurt and disappointment by saying it gives him time to work on other projects. (Way to take one for the team, buddy!) Billie gets invited to perform on the USA Music Awards (probably a Dick Clark Production), where she first encounters Rafael (Eric Benet). The suits from the label suggest they work together to score a "major crossover hit."

Because of a crummy edit, apparently, the award ceremony and the after-party are both held at the same location. (Which is a real pain, considering you’ve got to get into your limo, drive around the block, and then wait in line to be dropped off again.) Rafael and Billie hit it off. Dice gets drunk, (and though we never see him drinking, he does have something going on with his nostrils, if you catch my drift.) and demands that she and her friends leave the party immediately. In the limo, Dice starts ragging on everyone, and finally Roxy and Louise get out to walk home. They look back to see where Billie’s loyalties lay.

That threat doesn’t sit well with Dice, who goes looking for trouble. With an audience of two NYC cops, Dice assaults Timothy. As we learn later, Timothy is hurt badly enough to be hospitalized. (Either Dice is tougher than he looks, or Timothy is awfully delicate.) After Billie bails out Dice, they argue and she decides to leave him. She and Whiskers head to Louise and Roxy’s, where she’s accepted back without questions. (Who’s Whiskers? Oh, you remember him. He’s the cat they introduce to increase Mariah’s vulnerability factor. It tested well with audiences.)

During the split, Billie isn’t slowing down. She’s recording with Rafael, and sells out her first concert at Madison Square Garden. (Where’s that crummy Godzilla movie now that we need it?) But, she still misses the man in her life. And Dice misses her. He writes a tune for her, as she writes lyrics for him. Oh! Heavens! Will these star-crossed lovers ever meet again? Nope. She goes back to his pad, but misses him by mere seconds, and while he’s on the way to her sold-out concert, at Madison Square Garden, Timothy pops up again, and this time pops Dice. With a small caliber handgun.

Poor, brave Billie. She finds out about his death on the news, but the show must go on, and she sings her heart out to the screaming crowd. (Dude! This concert is righteous! Rock on, Billie! Rock on! Let’s start a mosh pit! Whoooo! Packers!!! Don’t bogart that Pixie stick, dude!) Backstage, Billie finds a single red rose, and a note from Dice. (Hopefully written before his death.) In the note, he says how proud he is of her, and how he’s looking forward to seeing her after the show, and oh yes, someone from the social services agency called, and they found your mother, and she’s been clean and sober for some years now, and she’s living in a small town near Maryland, and how he can’t wait to be there when she finally finds her mother again, and how we’re all going to live happily ever after.

The limo driver takes her to Maryland, and she is tearfully reunited with Lillian, who looks about 40 years younger. And the moral of our story? Come to the rejuvenating health springs of Maryland!

It’s entirely possible many of these shortcomings were caused by poor editing. Maybe a "director’s cut" restores lost scenes, but, I’m not sure I care enough to sit through it. To sum up: You want a fun, stupid movie to kill some brain cells? Find a copy of Wild Wild World of Batwoman, because Glitter is just torture.