Review of The Best Damn Thing

The pint-sized, cockteasing coquette’s cheerleader twist is as calculated an attempt at monolithic crossover appeal as Nelly Furtado’s relinquishing of her career to Timbaland. Both Canucks suffered the same sophomore slump by falsely assuming we cared about their personal woes, so understandably, Avril hiked up her skirt, took off her underwear and made many a creepy music exec proud. She runs out of ideas and frequently resorts to self-plagiarizing, especially on the unbearable ballads, but she’s so girly when she’s whining about picking up the tab on a date that one can’t help but appreciate its cuteness.

4/10