'Mamma' meager

You may find that the movie version of "Mamma Mia!" brings out your inner Simon Cowell.

It's likely to happen any time Pierce Brosnan gets his mitts on a melody.

"You no longer have a license to kill, Mr. Brosnan, and someone should revoke your license to sing."

Hiss if you must, but be warned: Brosnan will kill you, and not very softly, with his songs in "Mamma Mia," the film version of the wildly popular stage show constructed around all of ABBA's hits from the Seventies, plus several songs that did not become hits, for reasons that become fathomable as you watch.

Like the play, "Mamma Mia!" takes place on a Greek isle on the eve of a wedding: a jaded, single innkeeper (Meryl Streep) is doing her best to support the impulsive nuptual of her young daughter (Amanda Seyfried).

I missed the stage show, but I wonder: Does it build its arc around the character of the mother, or the daughter?

I ask because it gradually becomes clear that the film's best asset is Allentown native Seyfried as the bride-to-be. She's been described as "radiant," which is accurate, and she's blessed with a good set of pipes.

Seyfried tries to give a campy movie real heart as a girl who never knew her father and who yearns to know which of her mother's faded summer flings is the guy. Her character culls an old diary and, behind mom's back, she invites all three suspects (Brosnan, Colin Firth and Stellan Skarsgard) to the wedding.

The movie's marquee attraction, though, is Streep, and "Mamma Mia" is clearly geared to her constituency. The focus stays on her innkeeper, a former pop star, who's invited hard-partying old bandmates (Christine Baranski, Julie Walters) to the wedding. The movie dotes on their raunchy bond and on Mom's exasperation at having to confront three old lovers.

Streep is a decent singer - we remember that from "Prairie Home Companion." But her voice isn't big, not nearly big enough to convince us that "The Winner Takes It All" has operatic force.

It was a hit for ABBA, but like some of the songs here, it doesn't always match the story. As you watch Streep labor through the (incredibly long) tune, it occurs to you that the words have almost nothing to do with her character's emotional situation.

All of that goes triple for Brosnan. The guy's a good actor who's looked relieved and liberated since he dropped Bond, and it's easy to see why he'd gravitate to a lark like this.

It's not so easy to see why the producers would hire him after an audition that must have had cockroaches retracting their antennae.

Cue Simon: "James Bond may only live twice, Mr. Brosnan, but you should never sing more than once." *

Produced by Judy Craymer and Gary Goetzman, directed by Phyllida Lloyd, written by Catherine Johnson, music by Lesley Walker, distributed by Universal Pictures.