How crushing, to be confronted with irrefutable proof that naked people singing and dancing aren't REALLY enough, per se, to make a film entertaining. Who'd have thought? Unfortunately, if those naked people are singing and dancing in something like "Waiting for Guffman" without the parody, it gets tragic. The movie's a broad spoof that winks at itself, actually it pretty much elbows itself in the ribs and guffaws, unlike the audience, which is likely sitting there furtively checking its collective watch every few minutes. The nudity is entirely wholesome and non-pornographic, Cindy Williams is cute and very funny, a couple of the production numbers are clever, and the plot and dialogue just reek. The whole thing would appear to have started out as a terrifically cute stage play, sabotaged on its way to the screen by compromise, timidity, and tired schtick. Still, as with everything in life, there is a lesson to be learned here; in this case, the novel truth that it's possible to be far more embarrassing in clothes than out of them. <br /><br />