Randy and Paula have less than a clue, though, and just start shouting at Bucky that he's great and people love him and he shouldn't even listen to Simon. I hate them. Why even have them there? Why not just have two audience members with signs? The Randy one could have a sign that says "Not Your Best Effort, But You're Great!" The Paula one could say "Who Cares? You're a Star!" Can we at least pretend that performances matter from week to week so I might not feel like such an asshole for watching this show? Ryan's the worst here, as he calls Bucky over to Temple Grandin. First of all, he tells Bucky that what they're doing right now is "vamping," because once again, Ryan is Faggy Hollywood and Bucky is the Blue Collar Credibility Tour and when they get together it is madcap hilarity, let me tell you. Then Ryan starts in on Simon about his predictions, and everyone knows Bucky wasn't one of them, so Ryan asks if Bucky has what it takes to "improve" enough to nab a top spot. Interestingly, Simon actually says yes, even if he does preface it with, "Well, it can't get much worse than what we just saw." The cameras go all hand-held here, up in the judges' faces and then super-tight on Bucky's face. Like we're on Homicide or Series 7 all of a sudden. I keep waiting for Paula to stick a needle into Simon's IV bag or something. Ryan asks for specific constructive criticism, and since last time we checked, this was his pet issue with Simon, Simon's the one who starts to answer -- an answer that might have been interesting, about the "context" of where Bucky is in the competition -- but Ryan gets all third-grade about it and says he was actually speaking to Randy. Of course you were, you petty little bitch. I'm sorry, Ryan is just infuriating right here. The best part, though, is that Randy gives his usual content-free bullshit about singing the song that best fits you in the best way possible. So, you know, "do a good job." But Randy's nice about it, so he's valid, I guess. Paula's even better, as she slurs, "Dress like Simon," and struggles to stay upright. Then Ryan, keeping Bucky at arm's length, has the gall to say, "See? Constructive criticism from Randy and Paula." Really? "Do well"? "Dress like Simon"? That's crazy constructive, dude. They could have at least told him to close his hideous mouth.Paris interviews that she intends to sing "Fever," which was made famous by Peggy Lee. The song was written in 1958, which Paris says was "thirty years before I was even thought about." I love how she put it that way, because it makes present-day Paris seem like the end product of decades of research, planning, and fine-tuning instead of the accidental genetic fusion of throat nodules and scarves and Raven Symoné. You may or may not recall that we heard Paris sing "Fever" in one of the Hollywood episodes, for a grand total of 1.5 seconds, and it obviously served her well if she's going back to it. Barry feels the song is a bit "mature" for wee little Paris, but then he contradicts himself by saying that whereas Peggy Lee delivered "Fever" in a very cool manner, Paris's rendition will be "hot." It's interesting, because Paris never makes anything sexual, and tonight is no exception, but the song is still a perfect fit. For the record, I never took this for a sexy song anyway. Peggy Lee's version was more cool than hot. Or maybe it's just because everything in life I learned from Mermaids and I was in no way buying Cher having sexy feelings for Bob Hoskins, no matter what song she was singing. Paris is wearing a very pretty yellow dress, and her hair is done up very ornately with a big yellow flower pinned to the side. She looks dynamite. The performance is pretty dynamite, too. The scratchy voice goes so well with this song. It's a little stagy, in that way where the band obeys her every arm movement, and there's still a little of the Billie Holiday Halloween costume going on, but once again, for not being Paris's biggest fan, I almost always like her performances. Lots of energy, lots of commitment to the act, and the voice is appealing enough to carry her through.
The following portion of the Kat and Ryan Giggle Time Variety Hour is being brought to us by the good people at Coca-Cola. Katharine is just so beautiful, I don't know what to tell you. Gorgeous. So apparently "during the break," Ryan and Kat were gossiping about how she just happened to be watching the television that morning and saw Simon being interviewed by his girlfriend Terri Seymour (currently in the audience looking much like Keira Knightley's exotic cousin). During this interview, I guess Simon was being coy or cool or whatever, because he was pretending he didn't recall Katharine's name or face or how effing amazing she is. Terri must have stuck up for our girl, though, because Kat thanks her and reminds everyone that her name is Katharine McPhee, not Katharine McVee, as it appears Simon said. Simon's a weird guy when he talks to the media. He clearly likes Katharine, so there's no real motive for him to undersell her. But he also has that weird obsession with appearing too cool for the room, and that's what I suspect was going down in that interview. There are literally no adult role models on this show. No wonder Kevin Covais has gotten so bitchy and Taylor is allowed to vomit his "personality" all over us. Anyway, Katharine enthuses about Manilow, which takes us into her video package. It comes as no surprise that Kat greets Barry with stutter-stepping and giggles. She'll be singing "Come Rain or Come Shine," and the opening notes, much like Mandisa's song, are vaguely stripper-ish. She gets her vamp on a bit with Barry before they set to work. Barry's advice is for Katharine to sing her song "to someone," no matter who it is. In fact, she tells us there is a certain someone she'll be singing it to, even if she won't tell us who. And it's not Ace. And it's not Constantine. Because it can't be, okay? Katharine starts the song with her back to the audience, horns blaring the stripper music, lit from behind by the spotlights and the video screen. This is going to be a performance, y'all. She's all facial expressions when the camera is up close to her, giving a little of the Susanna Hoffs eyeball. Then she takes it for a walk across the stage, perfectly in time with the song. She takes her voice for a walk, too, hitting all kinds of spots on her range without making it seem gratuitous. I said in the recaplet that it sounded like she was playing catch-up throughout the song, but on a second listen, that's not really true at all. The only spot where it gets away from her at the very end, where she has to bail out on the last note a bit early. But up until then, Kat's vampy and sexy and exactly where she needs to be vocally. I could listen to this all day. She looks so comfortable performing, too. I'm never nervous watching her. There's also a point where the lyric is, "We're in or we're out of the money," and Kat sings it almost squealingly high, and you can't really make out the words. I loved that part maybe the best, because with a lot of these contestants, they over-enunciate the words -- Paris singing "Conga," for example -- which makes me think they're too much in their own heads. With Katharine, I think she's just letting it fly, and it's gorgeous to watch.
Randy notes the crowd going wild and tells Katharine it sounds like she has her own Dawg Pound, which she seems to think is adorable. Once again, not Randy's favorite performance by Katharine, but she was "really strong," and she took a difficult song and she "worked it out." Randy gives "Props, props, props!" Paula hears a "but" somewhere in there, so she waits for Randy to finish a thought, mostly because she'd like to know how to finish a thought. Paula calls it an "Ella Fitzgerald song," but I no longer trust Paula with that kind of information, even though the song is a standard and it's likely been sung by anyone who ever sang a song in the '50s. Only Katharine, says Paula, could have pulled that off, and she thinks Kat will be a contender all the way through 'til the end. Simon says the performance was star-making, the work of a seasoned, special performer. I can't argue with that. That song was all stage presence and confidence, and our girl has it in spades. Katharine's scary mom cackles delightedly from the audience. Ryan's tie and Kat's dress match perfectly, like they're Regis and Kelly. He mentions how dynamite she looks, and makes a crack about "double-stick tape." Oh yeah, I may have forgotten to mention that Kat's not wearing a bra. She helpfully reminds us by shaking her unencumbered rack around ("Feelin' free!") as Ryan suddenly gets the cold sweat of heterosexual panic. I love them together. They should tour the country and make small talk across America. Ryan has disappeared into a sea of audience members as he prepares to introduce Taylor effing Hicks. Yeah, I might want to hide, too. As we go back to Previously Vegas, Barry is seemingly minding his own business, thinking of ways to make his face look even freakier, when Taylor enters from stage left singing "Mandy," and gesturing like a creep. Jacob: "Like people don't do that to him in the fucking bathroom?" Barry's not just a singer, according to Taylor, he's a performer as well. Just like Taylor is! The line from Manilow to Aiken to Taylor is just too depressing a journey to take you all on, but suffice it to say that what Taylor lacks in ambiguous sexuality he makes up for in twee fan naming. He'll be singing Buddy Holly's "Not Fade Away." Barry's problem with this song is the ending, which he doesn't think is big enough, so he steps up to the piano, and like magic there is now a big ol' ending for Taylor to belt out. I'm glad that the video clip themes have moved on from "My secret is I love to freak out my boss" to "I'm Barry Manilow, and here's what I think sucks." Maybe Taylor has hysterical scoliosis or something. Maybe he is physically incapable of standing up straight when he sings. He's forever going into crash positions. I'm totally not crazy in thinking this song sounds exactly like "Willie and the Hand Jive" and also like "I Want Candy." It's not just that I think all songs from the '50s and '60s sound the same, either. It's that same bop.bop.bop.BOP-BOP backbeat. I guess I should thank god that Taylor isn't actually doing a hand jive, at present. He's jive enough as it is. He does a dumb little dance after every single line that makes him looks like a beetle. Paula is, of course, out of her seat and dancing like an idiot. And here's the extra special bonus: the singing isn't that great anyway. It all sounds rather flat and lifeless. Maybe it's just the Buddy Holly effect, because Bucky sounded the exact same way, trailing off at the end into nothingness. Then the saxophone player steps out on stage and "jams" with Taylor a bit, which is perfect because in the E Street Band of this show, Taylor is most definitely the Little Steven Van Zandt. He then jumps up onto the elevated platform behind the judges, because his exuberance just cannot be contained! Can you see how much he FEELS the music? How it makes him look ugly and without vanity? How it courses through his veins and shorts out his nerve endings? He is but a servant to the beat!
Paula gets the "Woo!" out early, setting the tone, as she always does, which says, "Feel free to be an asshole! I do!" Randy is down with the shorthand where "dancing on the platform" equals "having fun," but notes that the song wasn't very challenging, more of a call-and-response kind of thing. Holy shit, how cool would an AI performance of "Let Me Clear My Throat" be? I nominate Kevin! Randy mentions the "Silver Foxx vibe," which was something that Ryan also said before we went to the break. Jacob! Shout-out! ["I wonder. I heard Randy stopped reading the site after we PH'd 7th Heaven." -- Jacob] Dispute that all you want, but I totally heard that second "x" in the pronunciation. Paula loves the dancing, which drives me crazy. It's only natural that Paula wouldn't know from good singing, which is why she's always made sense as the "nice one," but isn't dancing supposed to be the thing she was actually good at? Shouldn't she be more territorial about that sort of thing? She says Taylor should make an exercise video out of his dancing and we'd all lose mad weight. Hmm. More irritating, Taylor Hicks or Richard Simmons? I know, right? Simon is wielding a nice bucket of ice water (also his cigarette lighter, and I always love it when I spot that, because it means he's either itching for a commercial break or else he made it back to the judges' table just in time), calling the performance "a complete mess." The crowd, and Paula, cannot deal with this, because the flashing signs tell them so. "I like you, Taylor," says Simon, but he says it was a "hideous party performance." Taylor: "That's what the fifties were!"
Okay. Hold on just one second. The fifties were a hideous party? I realize Ozzie and Harriet weren't exactly photorealistic, but America in the 1950s still wouldn't exactly have been described in party terms, would it? I mean, would it? I wasn't there, I wouldn't fucking know. Oh, wait. Neither would Taylor "born in 1976" Hicks! Talk about buying one's own hype. You're not actually Brother Ray, you affected jackass! Paula starts talking a whole mess of nonsense, and I can't tell whether she's saying "He can dance!" or "He can't dance!" Not that there's a bit of difference in Paula's brain, mind you. Simon finally has to tell her to shut up, for serious, so she starts yelling at him that he can't dance (that's what she was saying before). This is officially the worst improv sketch I've ever seen. They are talking past each other at high volume and with alarming speed. Simon tries to remind her that it's a singing competition and not a dancing competition. HUGE missed opportunity to take a shot at Dancing with Drew Lachey, Simon. That'll keep you awake at night. Paula, as usual, thinks she's being adorable. Simon, as usual, thinks he's above it all. They're both so very wrong. Ryan is doing his best Jack Benny from center stage, while Taylor is drinking this chaos in because he's finally made the environment surrounding him as unstable as he is. Ryan tires to make some "dysfunctional family" jokes, and the camera goes back to the gritty realism of handheld. Perhaps Dennis Franz will arrest one or several of them. Off camera, Paula cackles about something and both Ryan and Simon are desperate to know what's so funny but they don't want to ask. Trust me, you guys, she probably thought of something funny Kenny Loggins said last season. You won't get it. Ryan turns his attentions to Taylor, dubbing him a combination of "George Clooney, Jay Leno, and Phil Donahue." As if I didn't hate him enough already.
Anyway, Simon truly wants to be nice this time. He says he respects how Kevin "takes it like a man," which is a nice tip of the hat to the egregious ways this show has been putting the kid on display, literally and figuratively. Second, while he doesn't exactly praise the performance, he says Kevin played it exactly right and his fan base will love him for it. He doesn't even disparage said fan base by calling them blue-haired eighty-year-olds. The old reverse psychology gambit, eh, Cowell? I like it. Try and get those power voters thinking he's safe this week. Realize that every time you bust on Kevin, the sympathy vote skyrockets. Realize that you don't need a John Stevens this year when Kellie Pickler is Nikki McKibbin enough for everyone. Well played, old man. We'll see if it works. ["I have to say, I thought the sympathy vote would re-reverse it on him." -- Sars]
Elliott always looks like the sharpest-dressed troll under the bridge, doesn't he? This week, he's got the big-knot necktie thing happening with the untucked shirt, like he's outside the Catholic high school grabbing a smoke. He listens to Ryan bust on Simon aaagain, and then prepares to talk about Barry Manilow. Dudes, check this shit out. "Before I met Barry Manilow, I wasn't too fond of his work." Awesome. Okay, I do not begrudge Elliott this opinion. I think Barry's kind of a lame-ass myself. I just think it's hilarious that Elliott is so willing to openly hate on the celebrity of the week like this. Truthfully, he's trying to build up to a compliment, but Ryan's blowing his spot by freaking out. "Barry, Barry. Just walk away to the fridge for one quick second." What Elliott is trying to say is that despite his initial negative opinion, his Vegas Songwriter's Workshop experience has turned him into a full-fledged "Fanilow." Okay, just by saying "Fanilow," you know Elliott still links he's lame, which makes this the most interesting thing Elliott has done on this show to date. He's adjusted his facial hair away from the chinstrap (which, combined with his strong jaw and other off-kilter features, always lent a Sea Captain vibe to him) and towards a better-looking goatee, though the asymmetrical bowl cut still does him no favors. In the footage from Previously Vegas, we see Barry guiding Elliott through an arrangement of Al Jarreau's version of "Teach Me Tonight." I love how even when Elliott cheats the theme, he manages to pick an artist that could skew even older than the original. Barry makes it sound like he really had to harp on Elliott to stop just belting out the song and start "crawling into the words." He wants Elliott to tell a story. To "caress it for a bit." Yeah, quoting Barry Manilow out of context like that is a pretty easy way to score points, but come on. It's two hours of songs from the '50s. I could use some easy innuendo. Elliott's performance is, yet again, incredibly proficient, impeccably sung, and boring as ever. He's so good, and I could not care less. Like many of this season's contestants, he's so hopelessly retro, and the only one among that group -- which includes Elliott, Paris, Lisa, Kevin, and Taylor -- who makes me actually look forward to a performance is Katharine. She has still yet to give us anything current, but she's the only one whose performances keep me glued to the screen. I can't even stay focused on Elliott during his own paragraph, you guys. And he sang his song incredibly well! Speaking of likeable yet wholly forgettable, there's Lindsay Cardinale in the audience. I love how the show keeps drawing these parallels for me. Makes the recapping much easier. Randy says the song was the most challenging we've heard tonight, and Elliott "worked it out." Paula has goose bumps, which Simon rightfully mocks her for saying. Apparently, when she's walking down the street, she hears people enthuse about Elliott. Honey, when bewildered street dwellers and vagrants can't make out your words past the slurring, they're saying, "What do you mean?" Not "Yamin." Elliott's family section includes this severely mohawked guy who looks like the Dandy Warhols dude from the "We Used to Be Friends" video. Simon thanks Paula for her "beautiful words." Paula: "They'll never be said to you." Simon: "Last year you did." Every once in awhile, I start to believe that they actually have had sex. Stockholm Syndrome being what it is, it's not the hardest thing to imagine, even if it is a bit on the nose as far as behavioral explanations go. Simon judges Elliott's singing as "fantastic." Good job, Elliott! What was it you sang, again?
Paula starts to say something about, "If Simon thought you were a minx before…" but Kellie tramples all over Paula's already fragile thought process, rambling on and on, saying, "I know! I thought he was calling me a coat! I'm not a coat!" Too far, girlie. Even Paula looks ready to smack her down. See, but it's the positive reinforcement, again. She got such raves for the "calamari" thing, and the "mink/sal-mon" double dip, and even last week's "tarantula eyes" bit, why wouldn't she keep pushing this envelope? She obviously has no inner filter that critically evaluates the crap that comes spewing out her mouth. She just plays up the hick thing because that's what's been working. And now the judges are finding it tiresome instead of cute. It'll be interesting to see if Kellie has it in her to stop this runaway train and modulate her behavior any. Miraculously, Paula doesn't lose her train of thought, and calls Kellie a "tigress," which thankfully goes without comment from the Pickle gallery. That's probably because she's become distracted by someone holding a sign shaped like a pickle. And a pretty sorry-looking pickle at that. Several emailers pointed out that the actual image on the pickle wasn't Kellie after all, but AP writer Nedra Pickler, which makes it even weirder and more out of place. Just stick with "Pick Pickler" in pink sparkly markers if you're gonna be weird about it, studio audience. Simon thought Kellie got it "exactly right." He thought she was ballsy and sexy and altogether wonderful. I do admire the conviction with which Simon throws his entire "this is a singing competition" mantra right out the window when it comes to this girl. He sees something marketable in her, or else he just feels it's essential she stay in this competition for several more weeks. There's got to be some reason, because he is full-bore on board with her. Ryan, maybe less so. He asks Kellie if there's anything she'd like to share with us, and the girl goes positively slack-jawed. It's remarkable. I don't know if they had pre-planned a bit here and she's just dropping the ball or if this is actually spontaneous and Kellie doesn't do well with spontaneous. Either way, she looks brain-damaged. She literally scratches her head trying to come up with something to say. People don't really do that! I half expect a real light bulb to illuminate above her head, or else I would if she ever got her shit together, which she doesn't. She can't stop talking about the damn pickle. Ryan begins to rightly despise her. We go to commercial pledging to donate more money to the North Carolina public school system. When we return, Ryan has reunited with cute little Sammy, who is super-excited to get to introduce Ace. You know, if this is the fan base you're going to spotlight on TV for Ace, you cannot let him go to the "Father Figure" place again. It's one or the other. He's either a grown-up who wants to have actual sex with you or else he's a cuddly kitten who wants nothing more than to be a poster on your second grader's wall. Ace interviews that he's going to sing "In the Still of the Night," but he's going to "flip it up" some. Is he going to do the Nick Lachey version? Barry expresses some doubt about the "jazzy" arrangement, at least at first. From what Ace is telling us, the changes amount to distilling a group song into a solo performance. Trust me, you will never tell the difference. Barry says he asked Ace to end the song with the falsetto because "we all kind of melt" when he does. Yes, Barry. Some of us melt into a puddle of post-traumatic stress disorder, but I'll allow you your own take on it.
Elimination time! Once again, the feng shui shows us the way, as the top row is obviously safe: Ace is actually for-real nervous instead of fake nervous, and it looks good on him, which should come as no surprise. He's safe. Mandisa isn't going anywhere. Neither is Elliott, though Ryan has a little trouble letting the words escape his mouth. Oh, shit. It's Pickler. Her face looks very Carrie tonight. Ryan tells her that Paula called her a "tigress," while Simon -- "What did he call you? 'Ballsy'?" Okay, first of all, leading the witness, your honor. Say what you will about how annoying she is, but Ryan quite literally asked for it. Kellie's response? "What's a ballsy?" Now. I've been asked to review the tape by several readers. The alternate hypothesis is that Kellie actually said, "I wasn't bally." I ran this back several times, and my expert recapological opinion is that she did indeed say, "What's a ballsy?" For one thing, I don't think Kellie pronounces "wasn't" with a floating vowel at the end. More importantly, if we're going by my "Play dumb, it's been working!" theory, this is Kellie's bread and butter, so why would she get indignant with Simon when she could just get inquisitive and score some points? Ryan, however, quite literally doesn't have time for it, and he tells her so. Blessedly, she doesn't push it. Ryan can get mighty snippy when he's in a time crunch, after all. Chris (crowd: "WOOO!!") the non-compromiser is utterly safe, and while the so-called "controversy" this week was, in my opinion, pretty stupid, maybe it'll scare him into lightening up just a bit. Chris and Kellie seem awfully flirty tonight. How much hate mail do you think I'd get if I tossed a Kellie/June Carter comparison into this recap? Just curious. Paris is still probably a week or two from showing up in the bottom three, so she's predictably safe.Bottom row, where the losers lie. You'll notice Kevin, Lisa, and Bucky are book-ended by Katharine and Taylor. Not a coincidence. Katharine is wearing this gorgeous black sleeveless top with sparkly silver circles all up the bust, coupled with silver dangly earrings. She consistently makes the entire studio seem plain by comparison. She and Ryan have some fun with Simon's accent (he "loooved" her performance), and she is safe. Taylor is on his best behavior tonight as he's declared also safe. Hmm. Eight declared safe. Three contestants remain. Ladies and gentlemen, your bottom three: Lisa Tucker, Bucky Covington, and Kevin Covais. The crowd has the balls to freak out more than a little bit. Are they fucking serious? Who else would have made sense as the bottom three? Paula's already crying, because she totally knows. Ryan sends us to commercial, of course.
When we return, we see Bucky's long-sleeve tee has what are probably angel wings on the front. But because of where they're situated, they look like a pair of lungs. Which I personally took as a shout-out to his tubercular brother, whose valiant battle will surely get more pub during 1930s week. Interestingly enough, when Ryan runs down Kevin's judges' comments, he says Simon told him he'd get the "granny" vote, even though Simon went to great pains not to utter the "g" word. Keep painting that picture, though, Seacrest. Make sure they all like you best! Lisa, who I thought for sure was a goner, is the first sent back to Suffragette City. She has a delayed reaction, but looks genuinely shocked. Paris looks genuinely psyched, because she's young and doesn't yet realize that her one best pal is safe, but her other best pal is going home as a result. Katharine gives Lisa a giant hug, but Lisa is either shocked or sad, because there isn't much enthusiasm.
Ryan asks Paula for words of wisdom, a fool's errand if ever there was one. But somebody's stars are aligned this week, because check out Abdul: "The experience of this show has proven that people go on and achieve greatness whether they win or not." She brings up Bo and Clay and Jennifer Hudson, whose role in the Dreamgirls movie puts her at the very top of the non-winners list, if you ask me. "This show allows you to change the blueprint of your life. Whatever happens, make the right record, go on, and keep your dreams alive. It's just the beginning." Okay, "blueprint of your life" is definitely Paula's Rae Dawn Chong challenge for the season, but overall: well done, rummy! Cogent, insightful, encouraging. A complete thought from beginning to end.
Now it's time for someone to go. Kevin and Bucky are standing side by side, blinking out secret messages of encouragement to each other. Ryan apologizes to Bucky for making him sweat it out this long, but he can go sit down now. Kevin will be leaving us tonight. Kevin's not shocked. Ryan gets one more Chicken Little jab in, and I still think that's too mean. Kevin's video journey reminds us of when his head was shaved and turnip-like. His constantly weeping parents. His utter sense of calm amid the AI frenzy. That's something I didn't bring up much, but it's totally true. On this complete and total circus of a show, he managed to take it all in stride and stood up onstage every week and did his thing. His "thing" was weird and hilarious at times, but he never suffered for his nerves.
In his little corner of the screen, here and now Kevin is battling the tears, for I think the first time this season. I hope he makes it. He blows a kiss to, most likely, his parents, and he almost loses it. Dudes, all these clips of him are the cutest things ever. Like when your little nephew or cousin is maybe four or five and dressed up in a vest and tie and corduroys for Christmas and you call him a "little man"? That's totally Kevin. He's a little man. I'm pleased to see two of his last images are of Katharine giving him a peck on the cheek and Simon saying, "I like you, Kevin." He deserves that much.