More films came along and – oh my GOD, what a SURPRISE! – Hilary was allowed the opportunity to pursue her lifelong dream (which, at age 15, wasn't quite ripe yet) of becoming a rock star. Not a singer mind you, in the Jessica Simpson/ American Idol vein, but a full fledged, metal to the wa-wa pedal female front woman. Hilary wanted to be Chrissie Hynde, Joan Jett and Avril Lavigne. What the music business got instead was another prepackaged proto-pop star working her wilting persona in front of a collection of session heads. One hit album and single later, Hilary presents the public with a concert DVD of her onstage musical skill. Hilary Duff - The Concert: The Girl Can Rock is proof positive that in the pantheon of girl group grace, Hilary can't hold a C-note to The Donnas, The Go-Gos or The Bangles. She's still got a ways to go to beat Josie and the Pussycats at their own animated game.

The DVD:
Hilary Duff is trying her ditzy damnest to become a rock star, but not in the traditional way. No, she doesn't want to practice her craft, tour endlessly, develop a cult following and then finally sell out by signing a major label deal. Ms. Duff, you see, feels predetermined to make it in the music scene, and is lucky enough to be posited in the manufactured world of post-millennial pop. Unless you're a genius producer with the ability to swipe samples and craft them into hits, or a Ramones rewriting/ Buzzcocks basing punk band, the only way to make a dent in the Soundscandal world of modern music merchandising is to be a cross promoted pawn. Get a hit TV show or a blockbuster film and the marketing powers that be will do anything you want to foster financial gain. Suddenly, ersatz stars become diversified ATM machines, dipping into publishing, video games and, yes, song styling. Now, this is not something new – just ask John Travolta ("Let Her In"), Rex Smith ("You Take My Breath Away") or David "Hutch" Soul ("Don't Give Up on Us Baby"). But in each past persona, Mr. Barbarino excluded, none of these actors thought they were bound for arena rock glory. They sold their teenybopper BS and gladly coped the residual check. But today's multi-tasking talent doesn't look at the fame landscape in the same single section light. If they can succeed in one genre, why not amplify the cash flow and rule as many as possible. Call it the Britney Spears business plan.

Now, granted, there is nothing wrong with the DVD release, Hilary Duff – The Concert: The Girl Can Rock (except for a title that acts as an assertion, not a suggestion). It is safe and generic, never reaching beyond acceptable levels of true aptitude tolerances. Like a holographic recreation of a rock show or a robotic replicant version of power chord punch, the 50 minute gig that is supposed to showcase Duff's fist-pumping chops is more AC than DC (acceptable crap vs. despicable crud). With a voice that only a stage mother could prefer and an absolute absence of musical personality, Duff is a dire dreamboat on stage, a good-looking gal fronting a quasi-professional band. As a combination, it shouldn't miss. For decades, guys with nothing more going for them than Romanesque good looks (or in the 70s, fey femininity) and an ability to almost carry a tune in a bucket used prepackaged songs and a slick bit of promotion to become teen idols. Anyone who saw Shawn Cassidy or his far more popular Partridge, big bro David, knows the score. A few sing-alongs, a nod and a wink to the overheated honeys in the first few rows, a desperate attempt for respectability, and the wave of flaring hormones will carry you right up the charts. But just like Joe Jackson opined, it's different for girls. They can hardly cater to a pre-teen boy base, since most underdeveloped males can't get their heads out of the toilet humor long enough to notice some skirt's singing talent. So on goes the role model clothes and out comes the lite rock routine.

Throughout the course of the show, Duff seems shy and unprepared for her role as the seller of sonic memories. It doesn't help that her songs' stances are so blasé as to make Charles Asnavour seem like a hyperactive Jim Dandy Mangrum (man, talk about your obscure references). Ms. Duff pouts, preens and pimps for the crowd, showing a little midriff and balancing those butt-hugging blue jeans just above the Tropic of Treasure Trail. While she's movin' and groovin', there is a semblance of rock's inherent strut and sex in her performance. Then she has to go and ruin it all by opening her mouth – both to sing and to engage the crowd in a little between bop patter. As a vocalist, Hilary has a thin, reedy wisp of a register that renders every sound like the blip from a pre-programmed backing track. Every note is pristine, every key change spot on, taking pop perfection to a new level of Milli Vanilli-ness. This is not to say that Ms. Duff is lip-syncing, but it's hard to imagine that a girl with a tone so tenuous wouldn't have a little technical "support" to shore up the melody (she seems to have reams of backup singers, though the music belies a lack of additional choral concepts). But when she's trying to talk to the crowd, to connect with them as a performer and personality, Hilary really duffs it. She's awkward and damn near illiterate, sounding like public speaking was a class she flunked in celebrity cram school. Maybe she's trying to sell a cutesy pie, naive innocence, but with a canon of drowse inducing tunes to support that proposition, the girl may be able to rock, but she should really polish her showmanship.

For those interested in her repertoire, Ms. Duff plows through a veritable cornucopia of nonspecific songs that never really reach beyond a mid-tempo trip through a teenager's angst filled existence. Starting with "The Girl Can Rock" and moving directly into perhaps the best tune of the set "Little Voice", Hilary gets off on the good foot. But as she introduces her 'single', "Come Clean", the fun starts to falter. Before we know it, we are encased in artificial art, as the TRL-ripe "So Yesterday" is matched up with "Anywhere But Here" and "Metamorphosis". Ms. Duff is so proud of the next track (it was written by her sister and celebrates a recent event in her life) that we expect "Sweet 16" to be a knock out. It's not. The rest of the set list – the boring ballad "Love Just Is", the uptempo tedium of "Why Not", "The Math" and "Workin' It Out" evaporate any excitement we once felt (even if Hilary tries to pepper the proceedings with a little lyrical audience interaction). By the time "Party Up" plods across the cathode ray tube, we've had our fill of Hilary. She has overstayed a welcome that she never really deserved in the first place. Granted, her core audience will eat this up like Mickey D's French fries dowsed in sugary sweet McNugget Bar-B-Que sauce, but for anyone with an affinity for actual rock and roll, Hilary Duff is just pretending. This is dress-up with amplifiers, one of those wall mirror workouts that are usually kept safely behind bedroom doors. Those who look up to Duff will have no reason to avert their gaze. Others will wonder why she bothered to branch off into this untried, atonal territory.

It is important to note that, unlike other concert "films" where the camera can't find a way to properly integrate itself into the proceedings, Hilary Duff – The Concert: The Girl Can Rock is a rather well put together spectacle. The band ambles along graciously and efficiently, matching the CD/MP3 dynamics of the tracks pitch perfectly. Solos are kept closed and concrete and any jammin' is left to the bold, hair-swinging bravado of Hilary's bass player (one of the few musicians here who seems to have his or her own personality). On the image front, the combination of close-ups to group shots is nicely maintained, and anyone hoping to get a nice eyeful of Hilary's "healthy" persona will not be disappointed. She's just as bubbly and perky during the basic bob and weave she calls stage presence as in her amply airbrushed promotional pics. But don't be fooled by a rapid teen following. Hilary Duff cannot rock and if she has the ability to roll, it is probably not in the hay (more likely, it is in the dough). Anyone hoping for a hidden spark of raunch or an undeniable slutty smut tease will be sadly mistaken. This is a one step removed from a mall pavilion performance. All that's really missing is a Pottery Barn in the background and an exotic cheese and sausage kiosk off to the side. While she puts such past pretenders as Tiffany to shame, Hilary can barely keep up with the newest wave of Barbie doll blonds who want to teach the world to sing. Hilary Duff – The Concert: The Girl Can Rock proves that not every young child star should be awarded their deepest desire. Such outright coddling just leads to utter spoilage.

The Video:
Presented in a 1.66:1 non-anamorphic letterboxed presentation, there is a nice high definition feel to the transfer of Hilary Duff: The Concert. Colors are correct and very lifelike, and the contrasts highlight several details in the setting. Why the image would be presented san 16x9 capability is a quandary, and there are times during the darker moments of the performance where some telltale grain appears. But overall, this is a professional and polished picture.

The Audio:
Hilary Duff and her meandering music are given the glorified sonic solution with a dynamic, vibrant Dolby Digital 5.1 mix that really serves the saccharine sounds very well. There is a nice live feeling to the show (if not the vocals) and the immersion can be measured in festival seating facets. While the volume of the crowd is cranked way down (or maybe they were just that uninterested in the show to shout is out loud), the rest of the aural attributes are rock solid, if not very rock and roll.

The Extras:
It seems kind of strange to call the material on this Hilary Duff DVD bonus content since it really feels like neither ideal. Most of the documentary and behind the scenes footage acts as necessary elements in understanding the show presented, and when you look at what's left – some videos and an interview with Ryan Seacrest - such product padding hardly seems like something special. The best additional information comes from the Behind the Scenes menu. There, we get a 30-minute walkthrough of the tour that shows how much work went into making something even remotely presentable for the public. Hilary looks like a puppet being bandied about by a gang of handlers who are all focused on only one thing – keeping the young lady from falling flat on her button nosed face. From the choreographer who seems to know nothing about onstage moves to the numerous vocal checks (where echo and reverb levels are tweaked to give Ms. Duff's voice the proper machine created chemistry) we witness the very fabrication of a falsehood. If Hilary can rock, she should just pick up an axe and get on with it. All this structure and planning does not make for head banging bravado. In between the shopping sprees and the costume arguments, we learn what is really important to Team Duff and it's all about the image. From the carefully crafted videos and the funny little surfing featurette, Hilary is being molded and packaged into something both Mom and child can share and enjoy. Too bad it all has nothing to do with the desire to make good music.

Final Thoughts:
There is a tendency for anyone past the age of, say, 17, to dismiss the work of Hilary and her ilk as nothing more than the placement of product before the pre-pubescent purchasing power of a million dead eyed suburban babies, each as disconnected from the real world of music as their parents are from the once thriving concept of a cosmopolitan lifestyle. And perhaps it's better to give up ranting and merely wish to each his own...private, song style Hell, that is. As long as she doesn't do a Mandy Moore and tramp all over other artist far more famous work for an all-covers album (though Mandy had the good taste to give XTC and Joni Mitchell a taste of the tween dollar delirium) Hilary Duff can keep pushing her passionless voice onto anyone willing to listen. And with her chart success and continued presence on the pop music scene, she apparently has an audience eager to sample said shrill sheepishness. Hilary Duff – The Concert: The Girl Can Rock is recommended for fans only, or those who've lost their musical taste in experimental psychological testing. All others should wait until Holly and the Italians – or better yet, Jem and the Holograms – make a comeback. They will both provide you with more grrrl power prospects than this 8th grade rock tease.

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