Well, the devil has apparently come through on his end of the contract: One Britney Spears soul for fame, fortune and a feature film. The same girl that convinced middle America that she was a chaste and devout Christian while singing, “Leave behind my name and age” in a red leather body suit will now attempt to convince the same group that she can act.

For her film debut, Britney could have chosen the subtle route — a small indie flick directed by David Lynch co-staring Christopher Walken and Parker Posey. That result would only be half as disturbing as the real thing.

“Crossroads” is the full on assault of the pop princess’ mix of so-called acting, product placement and music video. In it, she and her exposed midriff tackle the disturbingly harsh realities of teen pregnancy and neglect with an even more disturbing lightness.

The film opens with three girlfriends burying symbols of their dreams in the ground to one day return together and see how far they have come in life. In doing so, they bury any redeeming hope that this film is something other than a Britney Spears vehicle — and by vehicle, I mean a sixteen-wheel semi with the loudest horn in the South.

The great thing about films like “Desperately Seeking Susan” or “The Wedding Planner” was seeing what a singer could do with a role. Here, we see a role custom-made for Spears like a mini-skirt. She just slips it on and works it — with little acting necessary.

The three friends return eight years later, one a popular and shallow beauty queen, one a trailer trash mom-to-be and one an innocent intellectual (guess which one is Britney). In addition, all three are mortal enemies from high school.

The power of nostalgia and MTV Productions compels them to unite again and travel cross-country so that the queen can see her fianc?, the trash can get a recording contract and the brain can find her “mama.”

It begins innocently enough. Throw in a hot guy and you’ve got a cute coming-of-age romp through the desert, set to the sounds of Shania Twain and Britney herself.
Then the road trip takes an exit to the land of the disconcerting and with it, all the seventh-grade girls and solo perverts in the audience.

Britney’s absentee mother, who not-so-ironically is played by the raunchiest member of the “Sex In The City” crew, Kim Cattrall, disses the songstress, big time. In a decidedly smart off-screen moment, one in which Britney was sure to have brought down the house with her acting prowess, her “mama” tells her she was a mistake and she never really wanted a daughter. Heartbroken, the virgin then gives it up to the token hot dude. Yeah, there aren’t any abandonment issues here.

The beauty queen discovers that not only is her fianc? a cheating dog but also the cause of her road companion’s troubled pregnancy. (Don’t worry, I’m not giving away the “Rosebud” here). These are very traumatic happenings. They may be a bit beyond Britney’s acting prowess.

Friends unite to give the trailer trash a makeover? Fine. Britney needs a date to the prom? It’s not believable, but it’s a good, safe clich?. Something we can handle. It’s when Britney cures society’s ills with a wink and a smile that I begin to worry. The girl is incapable of gathering all her in hair in a ponytail; it’s doubtful she has the power to make this situation all better.

Sure, there are some subtleties — the soundtrack featuring just over half of her own material, her monopolization of screen time (the ratio of Brit close-ups to co-star close- ups is about 3:1) and the fact that a commercial for the film runs on MTV once every 10 seconds. Unless you have been under a rock in the Arctic Circle for the past month, you are painfully aware of Britney’s move to the big screen.

Britney bops through this hour-and-a-half sugarcoated commercial for Pepsi, Herbal Essence and the vixen herself, with a team of below-average nobodies. As if to make her stand out more, casting scoured the earth to find the smallest no-names with pretty faces to back her up and make her look good.

In the end, the film plays nothing short of an extended Britney Spears video. Little substance, a few tunes and lots of belly buttons.