By M. Giant
Welcome back to Hollywood at 7:00 AM for the day of the group round, which of course has been fraught with drama and stress, mainly because of all the people who are faffing on about the drama and stress (yes, I'm looking at you, Alisha), but also because of the debilitating plague ravaging the contestants. Ryan tells us there are 42 groups and 185 people left, all of whom are stressing out at 8:45 AM for various reasons (lack of preparation, total distrust of one another, generally being assholes even before their first audition) and trying to cram in last-minute rehearsals before everyone files into the auditorium for the group rounds, which the judges show up for promptly at 9:00 AM.
The first group up is the Bettys, who you may recall from last week as a quintet of teenage girls who went to bed one by one the night before. Alpha-Betty Jennifer (actually 20, which, whoa) takes the lead for the opening of a rendition of "Hit 'Em Up Style" whose quality is inversely proportional to how early each soloist went to bed last night. Randy intones, "That was really bleak," so that unexpected word choice probably means he's already hit his quota of interesting comments for the night. Jennifer and a blonde named Cari are asked to step forward, but the other three (including one who saw the medic three times today) are cut loose. Ryan chalks up another victim to the "Idol Bug." So we're down to the top 182! 183, if you count the Idol Bug.
The editors get all freeze-framey as the group, consisting of Nick Boddington, Aaron Marcellus, Reed Grimm, Jen Hirsh and Creighton Fraker, a.k.a. "Groovesauce," heads out onstage. They sing "Hold On, I'm Comin'" and while not terribly saucy, it's extremely groovy. The audience is on its feet, and with everyone harmonizing in back in between each singer's solo, there's really not a weak link on the stage. We couldn't have started with them? All five are through to the round. Which I would be a lot happier about if they hadn't celebrated with a self-written jingle about Groovesauce.
We come back at 10:08 AM, which is a little late considering we've heard two songs and we supposedly began at 9:00 AM. is 6-7-8, the group including Kyle Crews and that girl named Brielle, whose mom hates Kyle Crews. They do the same song the Bettys did, but a lot better. Except for Brielle, that is, not that her mom seems to notice. The front row includes Shannon Magrane, Brielle, some chick named Amber, and a guy named Josh, so Kyle's out. Back to the frat house. That's gotta sting, but he claims he'll be back. And we're treated to some of Brielle's mom's hypocrisy as his farewell. 181!
Time now for Make You Believers, the group that includes tent-dweller and "Patient Zero" Amy Brumfield." They were all feeling fine when they woke up this morning, but on the way to the stage, the group's other girl, Jacquie, collapses suddenly, and we get to see a clip of her picking up Amy and spinning her around last night, after warning Amy not to get her sick. So there's some question as to whether Jacquie will be actually singing with her group, but all four of them head out onstage together.
Scraggly Dustin, however, presents the first problem, as he totally forgets the words to Boston's "More than a Feeling" right out of the gate. Amy steps in and does better, getting further than Dustin did before she forgets them too, and then chokes on a high note. Tall guy Mathenee gets through his part, but Jacquie's fumbling with her big glory note at the end has even my seven-year-old M. Edium declaring, "They're doomed." Jacquie still thinks she might have a chance when she's asked to step forward, until Amy is asked to step forward as well. You can see on her face, that's the moment when she knows she's done, which must have been a really uplifting moment for Amy to see on TV back in her tent. Dustin is also out, so Mathenee is the only survivor of Make You Believers. 178!
Noon already, and the people in the on-deck chairs in the wings are knots of tension drawn so tight you can smell the stress-sweat through the screen. We see a group of four unfamiliar girls faceplant on "Son of a Preacher Man," and Jennifer takes them to task for not helping each other out before, presumably, they're all cut loose. That's just the beginning of a whole montage of Don't Forget the Lyrics, and all the tricks the contestants tried to get away with it, none of which work. But at least I think we just got rid of Tripster the Hipster.
Time to catch up with Those Girls and That Guy, the group that charm school Ph.D Alisha bullied her way into, only to see That Guy Christian have to spend the whole night vomiting. But they insist, "We're not getting cut." They go out and sing "Stuck Like Glue" after Alisha attempts to bully the audience into having more fun. But some of them don't even stay awake all the way through. Probably because in their rendition, the "t" in the song title proves utterly extraneous. They're ejected en masse, but not without Alisha pausing to offer personal security to anyone there in the future. Which someone might take her up on, if she can provide it from a distance. No more than 174 left now!
By M. Giant
Coming back, impromptu rehearsals are still going on, including for Area 451, a group that seems to be led by Johnny Keyser. He's lecturing his groupmates in the lobby when suddenly there's a camera trick, a lot of rushing, and a girl named Imani lying flat on the floor. Okay, American Idol, I know that people are collapsing at such a relentless rate you can't possibly get them all on camera, so get more cameras. 174 of them ought to do it. While we're waiting to learn the move of the newly-minted threesome I'm now calling Area 451, let's check in with Hollywood Five, a younger group that includes mini-Bieber Eben Franckiewicz, David Leathers, Jeremy Rosado, and a couple of others. They sing "Mercy," with lots of good backing harmonies and some overly piercing lead parts, but all of them are through. Whoa, who let all these parents on the stage?
So back to Area 451, who is out of time. Imani tries to rejoin them, but can't seem to make it up to the front of the auditorium, even with help. Yet somehow she gets to the on-deck chairs and insists on going on, while her mom totally abdicates her parental responsibility because she doesn't want Imani to be mad at her later. A kid named Bryce opens the number, forgetting the words and missing the harmonies, but the group as a whole recovers quickly. Imani's solo comes around, but she can't get through it without collapsing again. Seeing this on the backstage monitor, Ryan curses and races her panicking mom out onto the stage, like this collapse is somehow worse than the two. Johnny keeps singing even as the medics swarm Imani, until Randy calls a halt. I guess everyone assumes that it's true what they say about people going down for the third time, even though that's only supposed to refer to drowning.
After the ads, Imani's helped to her feet and off the stage, to a round of applause. Eventually she's brought back out onstage to sit in a chair to listen to the group's judgment. Bryce makes his excuses for forgetting the words, but he and the group's fourth member, skinny blonde Kristy, are out. Randy asks Imani if she's up for all this and they actually let her expend her last remaining erg of energy making an emotional plea before Jennifer finally tells her she's going home. "Are you sure you're up for this? You are? That's good, because you sucked anyway. Goodbye."
Then there's a montage of rejects that completely blows my count. It includes original stumblebum Symone Black, former bullying victim Reese Kloeckner, and W.T, the idiot who quit his job to audition despite having a hugely pregnant wife that he now has to call to say he's coming home empty handed. She takes it pretty well, considering she may or may not know her voice is being recorded for the show.
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By M. Giant
It's now 5:00, and there's only one group left: MIT, featuring cowboy control freak Richie Law and three other guys who visibly hate every goddamn thing about him. But even after making the rest of his group miserable, Richie still feels the need to have a solo interview, whining about how he's compromising, "but there's no compromise between good and bad." Meanwhile, his groupmates Heejun and Jaron are out in the main hall, complaining about Richie's mouth and lack of ear. Richie goes on to tell us that someone in his group is going to go, and it's not going to be him. It's totally going to be him.
Finally, MIT takes the stage. Heejun solos beautifully, as does Jaron, but Richie busts out a laughable falsetto. He's right, there is no compromise between good and bad. Jaron takes it home at the end. Randy tells them it was "not perfect," but they're all through. I would have rather seen Richie leave, but I'll take it.
Ryan gives us an update on some other people who survived the day: Erika Van Pelt (the mobile DJ), Adam Brock (who looks like a hip IT guy), and high-mileage blondes Hallie Day and Elise Testone. Coming out of the auditorium, Richie takes a moment to sanctimoniously congratulate the whole group, and Heejun interrupts to apologize for the stuff Richie will see him saying about him on TV. In this moment, Richie just congratulates Heejun for having her courage to own up to it, causing Heejun to just stand there grinning like this is exactly how he planned for this to go. Well, except for the part where Richie's still here.
So it's the morning, which kicks off with an awkward car commercial before moving to the theater, where Steven and Randy join the American Idol Band (and a whole crowd of contestants) onstage for a sound check. Ryan explains the round. There are 98 contestants left after yesterday's eliminations and decimating pestilence, and they'll all get one final performance with the band, with an instrument if they choose, and no feedback from the judges until the end of the day.
We start with a kid named Joshua Ledet, who auditioned in Galveston but could barely handle the plane ride to L.A. He sings "Jar of Hearts" for the judges, and totally belts it out in a way that makes us wonder why we've never seen this dude before. A kid with a grown-out Vanilla Ice haircut named Colton Dixon sings from behind a piano and puts everything into it, doing a nice job of not being distracted by the camera that keeps zooming past his face. Phillip Phillips goes on at 11:02 AM, doing that solo-acoustic Dave Matthews thing to another song. Randy breaks the feedback rule by complimenting his guitar, but I don't think it counts. Jen Hirsh croons a torchy version of "Georgia on My Mind" that brings the judges to their feet. And more to come!
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We come back to busker Creighton Fraker singing "What a Wonderful World," wisely deciding to eschew the Louis Armstrong voice. He's toned down his weirdness a bit, I'm glad to say, but that's all he's toned down. People are really coming to play for this round. Including God, it seems, because he's throwing a torrential rainstorm, complete with thunder that completely throws off Jaron Jackson and at least two other contestants, like they've never had to sing over distracting sounds before.
Someone else who looks thrown, but for entirely different reasons, is Reed Grimm, who didn't rehearse with the band last night because he planned to sing a capella -- until the producers told him that wasn't allowed this round. Quick, what TV theme song does the Idol band already know? With 30 minutes before he goes on, Reed rushes over to work with vocal coach Peisha McPhee, whose name I'm only mentioning because it's awesome. She clearly has no patience with Reed's ADD, given the tight time frame.
Meanwhile, Shannon Magrane is in front of the judges doing "What a Wonderful World" in a way that clearly indicates that she'll be just fine, although I wouldn't have minded seeing her try the Louis Armstrong voice. The judges give her a standing ovation, and make her repeat her age, which is now 16. A perfectly appropriate age to be described by Steven Tyler as "hip, humid, and happening."
Reed Grimm has fifteen minutes left when a musical director comes into check things out, but all Reed wants to do at this point is call home. So with only minutes left, he goes back to his hotel room to cry over the phone to his mom, who can't seem to get off the phone fast enough. I assume that's because she knows he's got no time for this, not because she wants to get back to her Twitter feed. Then he seems to hit on an idea, rushes into the auditorium with two minutes left, and announces he's going to play the drums. Okay, I don't care how good this kid can or can't sing, who is going to want to work with this high-maintenance scatterbrain?
He ultimately ends up leading the band through a jazzy version of "Georgia on My Mind," both singing and drumming flawlessly. Okay, anyone who can pull of a last-minute hail-Mary like that, I hate.
After the ads, Skylar Laine is ready to go, after being one of the people who's been to the hospital and back in the ambulance. I assume Cedars-Sinai just has a shuttle at this point. Skylar sings a country song I don't know with even more twang than is necessary, but she hits all the notes and has a good time, so much so that Steven forgets the no-feedback rule.
is Rachelle Lamb, the single mom who brought her daughter into the first auditions at St. Louis, who sings one line of her song before stopping and saying, "I think I just messed up." I think so too. They let her start over, and she recovers well, although it's nothing spectacular.
Then it's Adam Brock, the soulful shouter who looks like a dude from Barenaked Ladies but sings like Elvis Costello morphing into Teddy Pendergrass. In case we haven't heard enough of "Georgia on My Mind," he's got his own version that sounds awesome but looks weird coming out over his sweater and tie. Randy asks him about the hanky hanging from his pocket, which turns out to have belonged to his late grandfather. And then also, Steven wiped sweat off himself with it earlier that day during the sound check. "I say it's doubly blessed," Adam concludes, which is pretty generous to Steven.
And that's a wrap for solo day, with Steven not looking remotely chastened at having swabbed his old-man puss with a Brock family heirloom. So now the top 98 has to sit and sweat it out. Not everyone is confident. In fact, not even Heejun can commit to his usual pessimism.
The three judges are alone in the auditorium now -- except the camera and sound people recording them, of course. They do the whole elimination thing with the Polaroids on the table, with that kind of magical editing that makes us feel like we're listening in without actually hearing anything.
Time for the remainder to get split into the four rooms. Room 1 includes, among others, Creighton Fraker, Jen Hirsh, Erika Van Pelt and Hallie Day. Room 2's crowd contains Phil Phillips, Eben Franckiewicz, Skylar Laine and Shannon Magrane. Room 3 includes Rachelle Lamb (who flubbed her words), Brittany Kerr (the NBA cheerleader we haven't seen all night), Jennifer the Alpha-Betty and some guy I don't remember seeing before. Sucks to be in Room 3, I think. And Room 4 has a bunch more girls we haven't seen all night, including Stephanie Renee, Baylie Brown, Brittany Kellogg and Angie Ziederman.
The judges start moving in, Jennifer swathed in a garment that's half cardigan, half bathrobe. I love how the judges knock on the door of the waiting room before they go in. Like the singers are going to answer, "Just a minute!" The judges come in, and make a whole lot of time-consuming remarks before finally announcing that they're all still in it. That also includes Jermaine Jones, Lauren Grey, Adam Brock and Joshua Ledet.
By M. Giant
The judges start moving in, Jennifer swathed in a garment that's half cardigan, half bathrobe. I love how the judges knock on the door of the waiting room before they go in. Like the singers are going to answer, "Just a minute!" The judges come in, and make a whole lot of time-consuming remarks before finally announcing that they're all still in it. That also includes Jermaine Jones, Lauren Grey, Adam Brock and Joshua Ledet.
The losers in Room 3 are seeming pretty tense, and one uptight girl named Madison is losing her shit, quietly seething about the people in the room who aren't as miserable as she is. And when Rachelle Lamb lets out a huge belch, Madison lectures about respect, only to have everyone else in the room jump all over her about it. What this room needs right now is some judges, I think.
But ads first. And then to Room 2, where Steven abruptly yells, "You're going through!" So Reed Grimm survived after all, as did Phil Phillips, Skylar, Shannon Magrane and Jessica Phillips, whose stroke-victim boyfriend is presumably still with a backup caretaker.
So let's rejoin the arguing in Room 3. The judges come in, and Steven reads the room: "What's the vibe like?" Randy tells them all this is the best talent he's ever seen on the show, but Jennifer breaks the news that they're not moving on. The judges give them some encouragement rather than just letting them leave already. Or letting Madison and Rachelle argue some more.
That leaves only Room 4, which contains Heejun, Richie Law and a few singers we see clips of but at this point even the producers don't seem to remember their names. The judges debate outside about who's going to break the news, and Jennifer tells Steven, "Do it quick." Inside the room, Randy says they'll put them out of their misery, and Jennifer finally tells them they're going through. Big celebration in the room, and then the groups are cut loose for a mass party in the hallway for the survivors.
Then the judges call for quiet, and Randy makes an announcement. Tomorrow: Vegas, baby!
M. Giant is a Minneapolis-based writer with a wife, a son, and a number of cats that seems to have settled at around two. Learn waaaay too much about him at Velcrometer, follow him on Twitter, or just e-mail him at m.giant[at]gmail.com.
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