Coyote Ugly is the most derivative, predictable, flat-out lame film I've seen this year.  I knew it was going to be a rehash of all those beloved "small town girl with a big city dream" movies, but I expected a smidgen of grrl power and a likeable main character to sweeten the deal.  No such luck.  

Violet is a small town girl who moves to the big bad city, with big dreams of being a songwriter.   She's talented (of course) and gorgeous (of course) and she has a great voice (did you doubt?)  -- so what's the problem?  Well, she needs her songs to be heard.  The only way to do that is to sing them on stage, but she has-- oh horrors-- stage fright.  That plot device (the only thing standing in the way of her dreams) gets more and more improbable as the movie progresses.  When she's dressed in $2 hooker outfits and belting out karaoke on top of the bar, but is still too scared to sing her own songs... well, it's a little much.  

The bar in question is Coyote Ugly, and I would much rather watch Tyra Banks and crew dance on the bar for two hours than watch Violet do… well… almost anything.  Violet hardly even gets to join the fun: she bows to pressure from the disapproving males in her life, and ends up turning her back on the fun, frolicky estrogen empowerment of being a Coyote.

Of course, as soon as she gets the courage to sing on stage (which takes about an hour too long) her problems all disappear.  Her relationship with a cute Aussie ends happily ever after, and she becomes an instant success.  

The amount of ridiculous in this movie is almost impossible to quantify.  When Violet opens her mouth to sing, the voice coming out sounds nothing like her own (it's LeAnn Rimes, so of course not).   During one scene in particular, though, my disbelief refused to be suspended any further.  Violet stops a riot in the bar singlehandedly… by singing along with the jukebox.  "They're tearing this place apart, Violet!" screams the bar owner, as Violet eyes the microphone, knowing that all she has to do is SING, damnit.  And it works!  

Piper Parabo plays the role with schizophrenic uncertainty.   The script often requires her to be spunky, but she's hard pressed to come up with any spunk.  She's unconvincing and irritating in the role, and I couldn't get a handle on her.  John Goodman, Maria Bello and Melanie Lynsky try their best, but ultimately, the movie rises and falls on Perabo's performance.  And since she absolutely cannot carry this movie, it just sags to the ground, defeated.