A pointless interview special? It's so nice to be able to tell when sweeps have started without even having to look at a calendar.
After the transgendered liquid metal idol poses for the haunted cameras in the opening credits, the words "Halfway Home" appear, which was the name of the special last year. Which took place when there were -- wouldn't you know it -- six contestants left out of twelve. Math is still for losers.
Ryan Seacrest greets the crowd and us onstage wearing an outfit he stole out of a Shriner's closet. It's a powder blue jacket and a white shirt with brown stripes and jeans. If only he were wearing white khakis or something, he'd be ready to move into a retirement community in Coral Gables, Florida. He blathers on about the drama surrounding the show and says there have been "dramatic exits that are still sending shockwaves through the country." Is he referring to the series finale of Friends? Ryan tells us that tonight we're going to forget about the competition -- except for the many, many times he will inevitably bring it up during the interviews -- forget about his annoying "after the break" teases, and forget about the judges. Can we forget about the contestants, too? I'd like an hour of just Debra Byrd singing with Michael Orland and the Great Unknown. Ryan says that the kids will chat away and sing their favorite songs tonight without fear of criticism. From the three absent judges. The rest of us are welcome to lock and load, of course.
Clip show! How did we get to this horrible place in our lives where this sub-par talent contest has practically caused riots? Ryan tells us as we are reminded of the screaming teens of the initial rounds that finding the American Idol "is like searching for a needle in a haystack." A haystack where every little straw insists that is, in fact, a needle. And then goes "Woooooo!" Oh, and if you're going to show us more clips of the cheering kids, you might want to crop out all the production assistants standing off to the side prompting them to shout louder for the cameras. Just a suggestion. The judges tell ugly people with bad outfits who can't sing to go home. The 70,000 wannabes were culled down eventually to the thirty-two semifinalists. Ryan insists voters picked the best top twelve ever.
And after picking them, it was time to start destroying them utterly. Poor Leah went first, having developed a fan base of about seventeen people (all of whom emailed me to defend her horrid singing). I almost feel sorry for her. She seemed so harmless in retrospect. Then smarmy Matt got the boot, because America gets plenty of cheese at fast food restaurants. Amy had bright red hair, which meant that she wasn't going to win. She got booted. They sneak in yet another shot of Camile in a bikini. Classy. Eventually, voters were no longer unable to overlook her inability to sing in tune, and she was booted. Jon Peter Lewis inexplicably fascinated a certain segment of the population with his deranged capering, scary facial expressions, and horrible voice, but he was finally ejected. Then Jennifer was ejected, and despite having never been voted into the finals in the first place, having been in the bottom two twice already, and having been the first African-American contestant ejected, said booting caused an unbelievably stupid race argument all over the media because horrid crooner John Stevens wasn't gone yet. But America fixed that problem the following week and booted John. If only we paid that much attention to actual racial problems in our country. Oh goodness. There's a brief shot where they take a clip of all twelve finalists on to Seal and make it look like the seven ejectees were transported away, Star Trek-style. See, that's the real secret of the Xindi. They're all former American Idol contestants who were voted out, and that's why they want to destroy humanity.
Commercials. If FOX thinks people are going to be staying home this summer to watch The Simple Life 2, then they're seriously deluded. Well, I hope they're seriously deluded, because if they're right, I'm going to cry.
When we return, Ryan's introduces his first awful interview for the evening, Fantasia Barrino. She comes out in a simple backless black dress and no shoes. Ohmigod! No shoes! Ryan makes such a big deal out of her lack of shoes that you'd think she had come out with no feet instead. On the other hand, it's the perfect opening for the start of the interview. Fantasia complains that she hates shoes. She wears them during performances because she has to, but then she takes them off. The two of them sit on a couple of black recliner-type chairs on the stage. Ryan says that some of us may not be aware that Fantasia is also a mother in addition to a contestant. Who is not aware that Fantasia doesn't have a cute widdle baby girl? Bring me this person. Is it Ted Kaczynski? Zacharias Kunuk? Paula Abdul? Who? Ryan does that thing that I hate the most: He starts asking her what it's like to balance motherhood with the competition, and then starts answering it himself by bringing up the pressure of the contest and such. I'm actually using some of Ryan's questions as examples of what not to do in a training session I'm planning on interviewing people for news stories. Fantasia says it's tough, but if you've got people supporting you, it helps you keep going. She says her mom has been very supportive and encourages a round of applaud from the audience for her. She says that Zion (her daughter) also "pushes" her, because no matter how much work it takes, Fantasia wants to make sure Zion has "the best." She encourages other young mothers to pursue their dreams, and to see their children as pushing them towards a goal, not denying it from them. Unless your goal is to be accepted into the "Well, I Never!" chapter of the Society of Moralistic Busybodies.
Ryan says, "Tell me how your experience singing in church helps your performances." Oh, wait. That's the right way to ask question. Ryan actually goes on and on about church and being onstage to the point where you need a map to find the actual question. Fantasia tells us that she's always performed with a band in church, and is fully aware that she gets a bit spastic onstage at times. She says that's how it is in her church. Everybody has a good time and praises God. See, that's where us WASPs get all confused. Having a good time in church? That's just crazy. Ryan brings up Fantasia's near ejection two weeks ago as a part of the appropriately melodramatic ouster of Jennifer. Ryan points out that LaToya and Jennifer were shocked, but Fantasia laughed and clapped. What was up with that? Fantasia non-answers that at this point, they're all winners. "We're all winners" isn't ever true. Ever. Unless you're in a room with a bunch of people smiling and waving lotto tickets. Fantasia says she told Jennifer that she was already a winner, and she tells us that Jennifer was one of the hardest-working contestants, getting up in the mornings before anybody else. Ryan rattles off a thirty-second question that can be summed up as: "Simon says you take risks with your performances. How do you respond to that?" Fantasia says she tries to make herself feel that she can be a multitalented performer and tackle several different genres. Out of nowhere, she says that Simon is scared of her. No, I think Simon was scared of Jon. I think he actually likes Fantasia. She says she just does what it is she has to do with her performances, whatever the hell that means. Ryan makes Fantasia demonstrate the Bobo for us, which is a dance where you apparently mime riding on the world's tiniest horse. Ryan dances it along with her, being genetically unable to resist any capering opportunities.
So, time to have Fantasia sing. She's going to repeat the performance that really made her the frontrunner, "Summertime." She heads over to the side of the stage and plops down on the floor, which I find both ridiculous and disappointing. Yeah, she did it that way the first time and I liked it then, but this highlights how stagy it was to have to watch her do it again. Oh, and am I supposed to keep doing the love/hate thing? Eh, never mind. Fantasia's the only one left who fits that category now. Her vocals are as solid and flawless as they were last time. I have a feeling she's practiced and sung this song for years.
Commercials. When we return, it's time for a horrible interview with George Huff. Apparently we have all grown to love him. Yes, even you over there with the look of horror and disgust on your face. You secretly love George Huff. George heads out onstage in a leather jacket, a white and orange shirt, and jeans. And of course, the smile. George is never fully dressed without a smile. Ryan points out all the signs for George in the audience. Ryan asks George if he can believe that this is all happening. That really is the default question of stupidity for entertainment interviews. Can you believe you're a big celebrity? Can you believe that you just won an Oscar? Can you believe you've been sentenced to community service for trying to sneak cocaine onto an airplane? How shitty an interviewer are you when your opening conversational gambit involves asking your guest to confirm the existence of reality? George struggles with the dumb question and finally decides that it's all unbelievable. The universe winks out of existence.
Ryan kinda-sorta reveals that George wasn't originally in the final thirty-two. One person "dropped out" ("was arrested for alleged drunken driving") and George was brought back as an alternate. Where was George when they called him to come back? George starts to tell the story, insisting that he's not going to cry. I bet the music producers who deal with the winner after show was over were really hoping George would land the title. He's just so happy go be here, he'd probably agree to record an album of Nazi eugenics anthems. George was at his apartment at Oklahoma University (shout-out to O.U.! George does, not me. I personally believe that all Oklahomans should be sterilized [that was a joke; please don't email me]). He got a call, and he didn't answer because he was tired from work. Somebody from the show left a message for him. George got all "Oh my Lord!", as he does. This staff member that George says he's not allowed to identify for some unexplained reason (it's Hitler) told George they want him back on the show. George thought it was for the Wild Card round, but no. But hey, he got to come back for the Wild Card anyway. Ryan toolishly makes George do that "Oh Lord!" thing again. He has a reason, though; he points out that George sounds like Little Richard when he does that. Ryan asks George how he feels about performing onstage, and then supplies on his behalf that he's grateful. I swear to God, if Ryan would just learn to shut up after he asks the first half of his questions, his interviewing skills would improve drastically. George says that the good parts of the competition, and life, outweigh any bad parts. He's happy to share the "gift of song" with America. Well, at least he's not saying that it's his gift to us, like some of the more annoying contestants we've had. He's just saying that music itself is a gift. What's the most challenging thing about the contest? George says that choosing the right song is a bit hard, as we've all experienced for the past couple of weeks.
Oh, let's bring up Jennifer some more! Is this an interview special or a memorial? George became close friends with Jennifer. They met in Pasadena. He loved her big hair. No, really. He hadn't heard her sing. He just loved her for her hair. She thought he was crazy when he first talked to her. I suspect that might happen a lot with George. He's nice, but…you know. Then he heard her sing and went "Oh Lord!" again. He says Jennifer has a great heart and is a wonderful person. George starts to tear up when he talks about her ejection, and mentions that the two of them prayed a lot when George first didn't make it to the final thirty-two and then they prayed to make it to the Wild Card round and then apparently God got out of the tub for just a moment because the two of them were just so loud and then they ended up in the final twelve. Ryan concludes that he'll always remember George's exaggerated facial expressions. The audience cheers.
George is going to sing "Take Me to the Pilot" again, even though he admits he hadn't heard of it prior to that week. So that's probably why diva Elton doesn't like George. Waaaah. Ryan says that there was a "request" that George do The Dip, like there was a possibility he wouldn't. He says he wants the audience to Dip along with him. Yeah, that's likely. For reasons only discernable inside George's rather uncomplicated mind, George decides to start his performance with his back to the audience, pretending he's trapped in an invisible mime box. I don't know. I just don't. Then he turns around and is all, "Oh, there you are!" He heads down into the audience, and it looks like only his family and friends are doing the Dip. There's some other girl who starts doing it, but realizes she looks like an idiot and stops. Oh, and there's Jon Peter Lewis. He's doing the Dip, too, because he's not about to start caring if he looks like an idiot now. George's voice is strong and solid for the song.
Commercials. When we return, it's time for Jasmine Trias, who has fully abandoned the princess look for pop-tartdom for good. She's wearing another one of those shirts that are made of pink necklaces (some princess urges are too hard to resist) all strung together, so it's see-through, over a white shirt and jeans. Isn't this awesome? It totally is! Isn't it, like, so much cooler than just watching? It, like, totally, totally is! It, like, blows my mind! Doesn't everybody just love you? Especially Hawaii? Ohmigod! They totally do! It's just chaos in Hawaii when I go back because everybody loves me. Do they all give you your props in Hawaii? Oh, totally! They all send me letters telling me how cute I am and how much they love me! So what's the deal with ditching the flowers? I thought you and the flowers were BFF? Yeah, well, I thought I'd change it up and stuff. Aren't I much hotter now without it? Hell yeah. So, like, why is your dad always here? Look, there he goes standing up to beg for cheers from the audience. Is he strict? Guh. Yah! I'm so glad, too, because if this doesn't work out, some guys from Bravo said they want to do a documentary about us. Isn't that so awesome?
So, like, isn't it a bummer to be in this big contest and still have to go to school? Yeah, it's so hard! It takes up all that time I could spend sitting around looking cute! Doesn't it suck that the judges hate you now? Do you even listen to them anymore? Yeah, when they say nice things or give me suggestions on how to look cuter, I listen. When they tell me I'm pitchy or aren't trying hard enough, I just think about lip gloss. So do you think you're going to win? I'm going to try very hard and focus and stuff. But even if I don't win, I'm still going to be prettier than everybody else.
Jasmine has selected "Inseparable" to re-perform. She's typically competent and dull. But on pitch. The audience barely cares.
Commercials. My local FOX affiliate has a commercial for a story about a little boy getting head-butted by a sheep.
When we return, it's time for Diana Degarmo, who comes out all overly smiley and waving and creeping me out already. She's wearing a black see-through top that allows us to see a stomach that we really shouldn't be seeing, and jeans. Lengthy, stupid Ryan question rewritten: Are you having fun in the contest? You look so poised. Yeah, like a pageant contestant. Diana says she's been doing this stuff all her life, and she loves it. She says she lives, eats, and breathes music. Unfortunately, it does look like she's snacking on a few whole notes just before bed. I normally wouldn't be so critical (ha! Right), but when you're going to decide to show off your torso, you better try to find out how many carbs are in a crappy pop song. How does she feel when somebody says mean things about her? She says it hurts, because her "performance" is like her child, and nobody likes it when somebody calls their child ugly. So you just have to ignore it. And then cry in your pillow all night. How does she psych herself up for the performances? Industrial Light and Music defrags all the drives and clears out all the clutter, allowing her to focus on the singing. She says "Mr. Dean," the catty hair guy (like there's any other kind), gave her a mantra: "I love the audience, and the audience loves me." So she's using denial to prepare for performances.
So what about Mom? Is she going to be joining Jasmine's dad in that Bravo documentary? Diana says her mom has been really "supportive" ("pushy and demanding") and has "given up so much" ("is living vicariously through me"). Diana's a teenager. What about prom? Prom is coming up! If you don't go to prom, you'll never have the experience of having all your high school expectations end in a sort of vague disappointment when you discover that it really is just a dance. She says she went last year, so she already knows that it's boring. But she has a date lined up, just in case she's home for it this time. If she can't make it back, he's got a "backup date." Heh. Really, he's just her friend anyway, so it wasn't like there were expectations. Man, I think I was Diana's prom date in high school. Does Diana feel like she's missing out on anything at all? Not really. She's gone to public school and birthday parties, so she's had the whole gamut of human experience. She's ready to be isolated from the real world in that crazy, shimmering bubble of celebrity. She says that it's okay if she misses the rest of high school, because she's attended about half of it. Yo, kids! Stay in school! Unless you want to be a star. Then it's okay to drop out. Everyone's just going to be jealous of you anyway and say catty things in the cafeteria. Is Diana ready to be a star? Yes. Yes, she is.
Diana's going to re-perform "Think." She dances her way through the audience, and I swear I don't think I'm really reading into this, but the audience seems rather uncomfortable around her. Their smiles are as fake as hers is. She throws in the requisite "Come on"s and other stupid little comments. She points out Jon, who obviously doesn't like her. She goes to dance to some pretty young women who I swear are embarrassed to be seen with her. The girl to her is clearly wearing this "Can you believe this fake little pageant girl is dancing to me?" facial expression of barely contained horror. Gee, I wonder why Diana might be so quick to get out of school.
After she's done, Ryan reminds us that we're voting for these folks. Assuming you're voting or whatever. Also, here are some clips of how these folks reacted in the confessional after being invited to Hollywood. LaToya "Woooo!"s. George is excited. Gah! The fuzzy pink beret! I find it amazing that Diana is a lot less grating now than she used to be, given how grating she still is. Jasmine says Simon said she looked to old for her age. "But whatever," she dismissively responds. She's not old, she's cute! Like, pretty and stuff! George promises Simon he's going to stop sounding like an old man. Instead, he's going to sound like a man with infected tonsils. Fantasia says she thought she was going to have trouble with Simon, but she didn't. Fantasia is wearing almost the same outfit LaToya was. Weird. The only things Diana remembers of Simon's comments were that she was too nice and smiled too much. Sigh. Fantasia "Woooo!"s.
Back on the stage, Ryan reminds us to vote. Vote. Vote. Vote. Vote. Vote. Vote. Your favorites can't win if you don't vote. We can't continue to be a media phenomenon if you don't vote. We can't overcome certain devoted fan bases if more people don't vote. So vote!