Okay so they wrapped up yesterday at 11 with 96 people, who immediately went wandering around looking for groups to get into. Is that really true? How exhausting. A girl in a funny big belt does a little dance with herself. Crypto-Castro (who it turns out actually is Michael Castro from I guess last year, which begs the question of why they haven't mentioned it at all, but makes my inability to do more than suspect he is the person that he actually is all the lamer), Big Mike, that little boy Tim Urban and another very large fellow -- Seth? -- all wander around and eventually I think team up.
Meanwhile a group assembles, in agreement that they are "feeling" that Fleetwood Mac song "Dreams," and then I guess they also are "feeling" the very original group name "The Dreamers." A cute girl with glasses named Margot, an encouraging young man named Alex Lambert, and the dreadful Mary Powers who -- you guessed it -- will in short order be taking over the entire group, episode, week, galaxy, universe. At some point Margot invites two more girls, one trashy one stupid, named Hope and Erin. Which is which? Who cares. Cute Margot tries to sell Mary and Alex on these other girls, but Alex is weirded out by being in a five-piece with four ladies, and Mary just wants to bitch, because she is the camera-mugging, fake-smiling, nose-piercing worst.
Some lonely girls are having trouble pulling a group together, but meanwhile the tragic Mighty Rangers of Denver have been "drawn" to one another. A group named Phoenix is made up of a grumbling girl, one of the Jermaines, some girl named Kat, and the very high-strung Moorea, whose claim to fame is that she got to this round last year and was in a group with Danny Gokey and Ubiquitous Jamar. She acts flesh-crawlingly goofy about how their rehearsal spot last year was such tremendous good luck, and that she just had to get this year's team into that same closet Danny and Jamar shared (with her), and her eyes go all over like a wild horse and she chews the inside of her face and keeps making these weird complicit expressions, like we're in on a secret joke with her but the joke -- and the secret -- are that she just did a huge rail.
The Mighty Denver people are boring some more and are named things like "Mark" and "Tori" and "Kim." They're having trouble of some kind, and then a new girl in this or another group is stressing about something but making an honest try at not being stressed about the thing. Margot of the Dreamers has been deserted by her co-Dreamers -- a spot of luck because they are clearly jerks, if talented jerks -- but then dumb little Alex and disgusting Mary show up and pretend she never made them let the two tacky young ones into the group, but Margot -- who is sort of a simp, to be honest -- perseverates on those girls and Mary perseverates on Mary and runs around having all kinds of meaningful moments with whoever will listen about how those girls are not there when they should be. So there they go again, wanting their freedom despite Mary's crystal visions. Mary should keep her goddamn crystal visions to herself, I think.
An hour later, midnight, everybody is rehearsing finally. There are other groups but they don't really matter: 1) Foster care guy, a scary girl with unnecessarily long wispy gross hair, some kind of substitute teacher-slash-single mom cougar, and a little tiny man. 2) Cute cop, some other old man, a yelly blonde girl. Team Awesome, the Big Mike/Castro group which also includes that guy Seth with the autism kid, seems to have their shit together.
Not keeping it together? The effing Dreamers, who are now just like a giant Pigpen-type storm of stuff and nonsense with Mary Powers in the middle whirling around looking like Helena Bonham Carter in Fight Club only less balanced. She yells about the tacky girls, yells at the tacky girls, yells at the camera about the girls, tries to get the girls fired from their group, teams up with Alex to harass a producer about welching on their agreement to be with the nasty girls, who show up to act like bitches some more, and the whole thing doesn't even matter because -- we don't see this part, but presumably -- the poor harried producer is like, "Mary Powers, I swear to God."
Dallas's Paige and Thaddeus spend what seems like six hours unable to locate a place to rehearse with their group, which includes an orange creature called a Jessica and a pink-haired, talented but hard-to-take thing that goes by "Liz Rooney." This team will be called Neapolitan, I guess because of Liz's hair and the blackness of Paige and Thaddeus. Nothing makes me less comfortable than food-related metaphors for mixed-race arrangements. Oreo, anything rice-related, that thing they call Obama I can't think of right now, this new ice cream thing they're doing here. It just seems so '80s. Coconut, that's the other one.
I don't like it. It's like going so far to prove that something isn't an issue that you turn it into a whole new other issue. Like, I know this guy -- let's call him Carl -- who is not my friend, and his brother is gay but not the kind of gay I'm familiar with: The kind with the complicated underwear, that likes to dance? They have drama? So every time this Carl enters my beautiful life I have to go through a ten minute Andrew Dice Clay routine about how Carl is so very okay with Gay Brother and how Gay Brother took him to a gay club where all manner of gay stuff happens. Stuff I don't need to know about, frankly. The whole point is that nobody has to know. That's what makes it fun.
And then this Carl also has a wife from I think Honduras, so then the second nightly show is all kinds of racist shit about Latino people that proves somehow the opposite. And I can see that working, except this Carl has zero charisma and is under the impression that he is the person who can pull off jokes like that, instead of being cringingly awkward to deal with at all times, regardless of whatever offensive thing is coming out of his mouth. Which work it out, whatever, I'm not in charge of your decisions, but there's also the part where I'm uncomfortable, and it's at that boundary between you and I that I am in charge of, so stop using me as a prop to show how cool you are with the people in your life that you are obviously not entirely cool with.
Paige wants "no drama," but Thad becomes obsessed with the idea that their crummy dumb choreography is being stolen; on the Destiny side, Todrick acts like a little bitch for about one hour, all sing-songy about how "they're going down," and they can pop off or whatever, it's sniveling and awful and arrogant and his heather-grey contacts make me want to barf. And what's worse is that he's obviously ten times smarter than he comes off, and has made the conscious choice to be a bitch. I hate that more than dumb people like Mary Powers, who get there naturally.
Phoenix, which is the Moorea group, have some kind of unending discussion about harmonizing, and one of the Jermaines is not feeling her at all, and she's got this annoying Rhoda scarf in her hair that makes it hard to take her seriously, but the rest of Team Phoenix doesn't even care anymore, because we've hit that point of the night where they all start deciding whether or not sleeping is more important than bitching about other people sleeping, and the whole actual point of their tasks has just completely slipped by them and they've all jumped up a level to talking about the thing instead of actually doing the thing, which is the point in Hollywood where the real loony-tunes personalities begin to shine brightest.
The Dreamers, who I swear just decided not to break up like an hour ago, might be breaking up. There's not even any Mary Powers this time around -- I assume she's off writing in her journal about what's going on in case somebody ever wants to read it in the future, which they won't -- just the trashy girls bitching, endlessly, about nothing, and pretty little Margot continuing to simper about this mess she's created for no reason, and while all of this nothing is going on, everybody else is choreographing.
2:30 AM is when you go to sleep. Nothing good ever happens after three AM, everybody knows that, it's why bars close at two: So you can get home before the Hour of the Wolf. Because by three, all that's left are: Feelings, texting, fights about nothing, and your dignity in the balance. The same holds true here, because while yes it's the most important night of their young lives, it is also plain old science that youngsters need lots sleep for healthy bones and good social development.
You can get sucked into their crazy on this show and think that there's a judgment call to be made here, but there isn't: Go. To. Bed. Agree on the idea, learn the small amount of words you need to learn, go the fuck to bed. You can rehearse in the morning if you sleep now. And not only that, but check it out: Biggest show in America. They are doing this to fuck with you so that we can watch you stay up too late and act erratically and then fuck up in the morning. This show has been on since you were in diapers and you never noticed them doing this? Be the boring ones that nail it in an hour and retire.
Mary calls us "honey," addressing the camera about her various fascinating thoughts and feelings and opinions and emotions, but then we cut to her harping on the accompanist gay to the point that he gets all over her ass to shut up and let him do his job, in a quickfire monologue that is majestic, and he calls her "honey" in return, and it's amazing -- one of the other musical people actually drops a hand lightly on his shoulder so he won't lunge and slap her -- and she has no idea what she's doing but thinks that she invented music, so she backtracks and starts eating shit in the middle of his tommygun takedown, suddenly agreeing with him about yes yes of course yes that's what I was saying, which is her version of backing off. It is so, so delicious. I would happily marry that man, this Michael Orland.
Look, Byrd! Practicing with Destiny's Wild! while Neapolitan watches from the other side of the room silently staring and drinking deep of the old Haterade and generally being just marvelously awful. You can tell they're hatching something, but they're so dumb and miserable that the egg will be empty, so they just stew and marinate in their hate and jealousy and try to justify their existence to each other. On the other hand, Jareb (I mean, seriously) jumps around about how "punchy" they are, after Byrd congratulates them on being totally fabulous, and they run through the hotel singing the "Bad Romance" and being adorable. Except for prancing preening awful Todrick, who dances around in a way my notes describe as: "like a COCK."
Neapolitan don't sound terrible, but they're unpracticed enough that they get on Byrd's nerves. Paige and Liz are clearly realizing that Kim and Thad are out of their depth, but it's a bit too late. They laugh mordantly about how they won't be sleeping, etc., and finally another pianist instructs them to shut up and go to bed. I predict they will do neither. I hope they don't, because although I am down with Liz Rooney the rest of them are either not ready (Thaddeus) or repulsive humans (orange Jessica, of course, but also Paige in a second).
Group day! Breakfast is usually pretty good, because it's like a WASP engagement party, with everybody fake-hugging and fake-smiling and fake-loving the sight of one another. Even that awful girl with the peacock feather earrings and gray-dyed hair has found friends, even horrible Sam has friends, Jareb is still dangerously excitable and getting gayer every second, Team Awesome is working hard plus see above re: Big Mike's unending baby drama, Theri of Destiny's Wild! continues to look amazing at all times, while her pretty teammate Siobhan continues to look like an unexfoliated outpatient, this time specifically like the girl from that movie Times Square. She's so interesting to look at. She has one of those faces that just completely changes based on clothes and hair and makeup. By which I mean, of course, that she should become a spy.
Everybody's forgetting the words in their dress rehearsals -- that gay pianist is like, "Guys, it's one fucking verse" -- and Byrd seriously fucking hands one group's asses to them on a platter, it's great (and even greater when somebody interrupts her and she gets to tell them how that's going to work), and Mary yells at Alex or whoever about forgetting the words and Big Mike's wife is at eight centimeters and Todrick's doing backflips and people are like passing out of exhaustion and breaking into tears and starting fights and bursting into high-pitched flame and Ryan impishly voices over, "Now it looks like Group Day!"
Mary watches Destiny's Wild! practice, and their backflips and sophisticated ways and how they don't look like a Hot Topic getting dutch-ovened by Mervyn's and how they're not stressing out or bitching at their teammates about every little thing or threatening to throw each other out of the group or going to the producers to tattle every five minutes or constantly crying big bleeding-sore weepfests into the cameras about their constant emotional upheavals, and... Starts crying big bleeding-sore weepfests into the cameras about her emotional upheaval regarding how she wishes her team were more like that! And then goes and yells at her team some more! Mary continues to be a vibrant object lesson in the difference between self-reflection and self-inventory. Introspection isn't enough, people. You don't go on safari and bring back pictures of your hotel room. Nobody wants to see that shit.
Into the Kodak! I think Gray Girl's group is called the Pargettes or something. I wonder what that was supposed to be. Big Mike's wife has the baby, and he breaks down for a while and then goes back to his very important work of auditioning for a game show. Ryan walks down the aisle in the theatre, reveling with us in the ways the contestants have been mentally drained and physically exhausted and the rest of it, Jareb continues to mug it up in the audience, and then it's finally time for the performances.
Ashley Rodriguez! Yay! Her group is called Faith, and includes some girls named Michelle and Charity, and they will be singing the "To The Left" song of Beyoncé. Charity takes the first line, Ashley gets swaggery with it, and Michelle -- looking lost -- still pulls through vocally, enough to get some cheers. Charity hits a bad high note, and then there's some terrible harmony to wrap things up. Ellen tells Charity to step up front, making it seem as though she is the only one going home, but then it turns out all three of them get through, to much applause. What happens , the Chair? Oh, I think I remember: All 71 of them (spoiler!) left at the end of this episode will perform, and we hear their stories and meet their various ailing relatives, and then the Chair. Is that right? Can't I just sleep until the Chair? And do we know Michelle or Charity from before?
Team Awesome (Big Mike, Tim Urban, Seth Rollins and Castro) will be singing "Get Ready," which is a hoary old fuzzy graham cracker of a song but easy for everybody to sing. Mike sounds a bit cheesy, Seth's great voice shows up, Tim looks desperate and sings well flat, and they dance around, and once again Castro melts into the background without doing anything on camera at any time, and it's just as weird as usual, and then Randy ends up sending Mike and Tim through, while poor Seth and even poorer Castro are sent home. No wonder they didn't talk about him this year. Or his "secrets." Wasn't he the one that they accused of having secrets? How did that go again? It was weird.
Ryan calls this "A bittersweet ending for Team Awesome," which made me laugh for some reason, and points out all the similarities between Seth and Big Mike, and the new huge difference between them as well, and Seth of course continues to Mary Powers his shit as usual, all about his personal drama and tragedy and how that earns him something, and this was his third tryout and we'll never have to see him again, and whatever drama he can once again bring up from his viscera and out of his crying eyeballs. I forgot about that aspect of Seth, I must admit. Meanwhile Big Mike is like, "Man, I wish I could see my newborn daughter! But for some reason I cannot!"
Neapolitan takes the stage before Destiny's Wild! does, which I hope won't help them. Liz Rooney with her dumb hair ends up being the best one of the four, and their harmonies are grotesque and their dance moves are boring and meanwhile Destiny's Wild! is down in the audience being prima donnas about how they were cresting high on the praise they got from Byrd for planning "Bad Romance" a capella and something, whatever, let's just bitch and moan for no reason, and finally Todrick is sassy and telling it like it is about how the other team stole their idea, which I still can't tell what their "idea" was other than to sing it with minimal accompaniment and honestly, shouldn't you work hard enough that you can watch their performance, know yours is better, and not worry about it? At this stage I don't know what this talk will do besides get your nerves up even more: Why not just watch them and think about ways to be better than them?
Simon stops Neapolitan and says that their performance was good "in its own way," because they worked hard, made an effort which of course he likes, and all manner of praise, Ellen also loved it, and just before all three of them go through Paige pulls this unnecessary dick move of cheesy pageant-smiling about how proud they were to have picked their song which nobody else picked, or something, and the mouths of Destiny's Wild! hang agape and Theri goes "oh no she didn't," and I'm still not clear on what she did or I guess "didn't" do, because the whole thing seems really stupid and not contingent on how well you actually perform, which is actually what it is about for the judges, so you're just making life hard for yourself and your own excellence, but whatever: It's all very outrageous.
Who duffs the first line of "Dreams," laughing conspiratorially with herself and inviting the rest of us to share in the joke where she's so much better than this. The trashy girls are whatever, but overall I like the harmonies. Cute Margot's so horrifically bad that the judges crack up and Simon wants to turn her mic off, and she's up there with this deranged dumb grin like she can't hear herself, and it's unbearable. Alex finally steps up with one of the best voices of the night, and finally Simon cuts them off. Kara says the "dream" died onstage, Randy calls the backgrounds "painful," and then the four of them who aren't Mary huddle together in a group hug waiting for the answers, while Mary stands proudly all alone like every other day of her life, wearing an ugly business suit from Ross for some reason.
Mary is called up first of course, and of course steps up with a huge smarmy smile on her face. The trashier more talkative uninvited girl is apparently named Hope and is called up, and then Alex is called up and they go through, leaving the less interesting but more palatable of the uninviteds to share her shame with Margot while Hope loses her mind completely. They were dazzling. We've had more amazing flameouts, and way more beautiful group performances even just tonight alone, but that was definitely up there among the perfect storms, entertainment-wise. How much of it is just Mary's insane Chihuahua eyeballs and sewer punk hair?
We get a few more precious seconds with Mary so she can tell us patronizingly about how she wishes the others "the best" but -- it is to laugh -- she'll never "work with" them -- haha -- again. The sheer delusion of this asshole is just... the mind boggles. I kind of hope she never leaves. Maybe they'll bring back Avril just to fuck with her. Maybe they'll bring back Avril and have it be "Punk Rock" themed and they'll tell Mary she has to pick from a list entirely of Cobra Starship and Fall Out Boy and blink-182 songs and she'll dramatically hurl herself into the orchestra pit and break her stupid neck.
71 in total get through, including hottie John Park, lovely little Haeley, Angela Martin, Tyler, and some other vaguely familiar people. Kara tells Katie Stevens she could end up the winner, which I believe. Then there's a quick montage of everybody feeling drama, including more footage of Casey losing his mind all over the place and crying about how he has "no words or feelings that can describe" what this latest thing was like for him.