In theaters

CROSSROADS, directed by Tamra Davis, written by Shonda Rhimes. 90 minutes. Rated PG-13.

The new Tamra Davis movie, “Crossroads,” asks audiences to consider the prospect of life without Britney Spears’ virginity – which, not surprisingly, turns out to have as much kick as a can of caffeine-free Diet Pepsi.

Her first movie, from a script by Shonda Rhimes, serves as something of a warning call to parents everywhere, easing them into the idea that the sluttish good girl of pop – whose much-publicized chastity has underscored a singing career that includes such hits as “I’m a Slave 4 U” and “Hit Me, Baby … One More Time” – is at a sexual crossroads herself.

This isn’t as insignificant as it sounds. Spears commands a huge, global audience of preteen and teen-age girls. If the singer, now 20, decides she’s ready to take it to the next level, so to speak, in a movie that features her being deflowered, there’s no telling how many of her impressionable fans also will decide that if a roll in the sack is right for Britney, heck, it’s also right for them.

In “Crossroads,” Spears is Lucy, the goody-goody valedictorian of her high school graduating class who was abandoned by her mother, Caroline (Kim Cattrall), at age 3. Considered to be the class nerd, Lucy is lovingly bullied by her overprotective father (Dan Aykroyd) to become a nurse.

Yes, Lucy is a stretch for Spears, but unlike Mariah Carey’s unforgettable performance in “Glitter,” a modern camp classic and one of the best bad films ever, she is only occasionally humiliated by the role – which, as star vehicles go, isn’t half bad.

Along with her estranged childhood friends, the pregnant Mimi (Taryn Manning) and the pretty Kit (Zoe Saldana), Lucy decides to leave her small Georgia town for a road trip to Los Angeles, where, along the way, she hopes to meet her mother while Kit reconnects with her fiance and Mimi, who suffers from a speech impediment that makes her sound as if she has a mouthful of worms, naturally tries to become a pop star.

Driving the girls is Ben (Anson Mount), a tattooed “hottie” who, it’s rumored, killed a man in an act of rage and spent time in the big house. As one would guess, a whirlwind of melodramas erupts as these four get closer to the bright lights of L.A.

As bad as the material often is, Spears is as spunky and as unaffected as you’d imagine; she holds the screen and does the best job she can. But what’s curious is this: At the end of the movie, when Spears takes to the stage to hiccup her newest single, “I’m Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman,” the crowd of Britney fans at my screening burst into a fit of giggles.

Were they laughing at her performance? The song’s lyrics? Or because they finally figured out what Britney Spears is?

Grade: C-

On video and DVD

HARDBALL, directed by Brian Robbins, written by John Gatins. Rated PG-13.

The best thing about Brian Robbins’ Little League heart-warmer, “Hardball,” is the inner-city kids Robbins has gathered to play the game – they’re wonderful, natural, first-time actors, giving the film a depth and a soul it never would have had without them.

In the film, Keanu Reeves is Conor O’Neill, a hard luck gambler thousands of dollars in debt to a group of muscle-head bookies eager to get their money back. After being beaten to a pulp for refusing to pay off one of his debts, Conor finds himself coaching a Little League team in Chicago’s Cabrini-Green housing project for $500 a week.

For the boozy, complacent Conor, it’s an easy gig – all he has to do is show up, collect his check and pay off those looking to lynch him. But as he comes to know this rag-tag team of underdog players, he predictably grows to love them as he himself grows as a person.

When the film was advertised last fall, it looked like a squeaky-clean, fun-loving family film, which it certainly is when its young players aren’t being subjected to shootouts, asthma attacks, murders and funerals – or when they’re not unleashing a stream of expletives at the screen.

The film is based on Daniel Coyle’s gritty book, “Hardball: A Season in the Projects,” and Robbins has wisely retained some of its sourcebook’s inner-city edge.

Still, the results are mixed. The film, which feels like a cross between “The Bad News Bears” and “Boyz N the Hood,” works best when it sticks to the lessons learned on the playing field. But when it gives in to the manipulative demands of the Hollywood marketing machine and starts firing off rounds of purple prose and a cliched love story between Reeves and Diane Lane, the film bats itself – and audiences – straight into the most desolate corners of left field.

Grade: C+

Christopher Smith is the Bangor Daily News film critic. His reviews appear Mondays and Fridays in Style, Tuesdays on “NEWS CENTER at 5” and Thursdays on “NEWS CENTER at 5:30” on WLBZ-2 and WCSH-6. He can be reached at BDNFilm1@aol.com.