Tuesday
Okay, now the deal last night was that the contestants had to sing three songs each, and there was no theme as such, just a succession of bad ideas and cheesy stunts and some really great singing. In the first round, the songs were chosen by Clive Davis, the CEO of BMG. I was not familiar with the total corpse of him until last night, and I had horror movie dreams all night. Because he's creepy, son!
The songs chosen by Clive Davis were really left field and exactly what you would think a thousand-year-old record exec would pick: some Dionne Warwick ("I'll Never Love This Way Again") for Vonzell, a little Roy Orbison ("Crying") for Carrie, and for Bo, some Elton John ("Don't Let The Sun Go Down On Me"). Basically, what the kids are listening to these days. Invariably, then, his horrible choices did not sit right with him, in the actual performances, even though in my opinion Bo and Carrie rocked theirs really well, in separate ways. He had strange comments for each performance, but none so strange as those reserved for these, his dread choices.
Vonzell was off to a rough start -- I have to say, about the only thing I enjoyed about her first song was the fact that it wasn't Anwar singing it (if you'll remember, that was one of his more piercing performances) -- and while as usual there were particularly pretty parts, on the whole it was just mostly boring and off-pitch most of the time. Carrie gave one of the best vocal performances of the season, while seeming very nervous physically, but it was still a lovely thing to experience. Nobody could be more surprised than I am about my rapid turnaround on the Carrie issue. Bo managed to make a song I hate to the ends of the earth very enjoyable, if not ultimately all that memorable.
up were the contestants' choice songs, which, translation: songs they've sung a million times and could probably perform in their sleep. I think that's actually what Carrie was attempting, but that's nothing compared to the stunt of Bo's performance. Vonzell sang "Chain Of Fools," which we heard her completely rock in her audition last week, and did a fantastic, note-perfect, utterly well-rehearsed job. If that's your thing, and I know it's mine, then this was an enjoyable performance. If what you like is passion and spontaneity and maybe a little bit of edge, this round is not the one for you. Carrie sings some song ("Making Love Out Of Nothing At All") that sounds exactly like "Total Eclipse Of The Heart," only less enjoyable, and it's good in a specifically Carrie way? But not that fascinating. Then Bo sings the Badlands' "Within A Dream," which is one of those pared-down metal songs anyway? But then he sings it a cappella. So obnoxious, and yet so good (if a few notes were painfully off, I didn't really mind). What I don't understand: he's so incredibly talented, but they won't stop selling him. It's just such a stunt, it's so overly excited with itself and with Bo as Product and he doesn't need it, okay, and it cheapens him. He's talented enough to do this straight, and yet every week we've got some kind of stunt shoving him down our throats, and I don't get it. It's insulting.
Then comes the Judges' Choice round, in which everything turns topsy-turvy and shallow and pop-cute-silly, so of course Vonzell rules with a color-coordinated lime green fist. Bo sings the overdone "Satisfaction," turning in another "For The Love Of Money"-grade performance that has nothing to do with vocals and everything to do with being a song everybody's heard a million times with a lot of flashing lights and running around. It's annoying, for exactly the reasons stated above, but at least it will earn him enough career momentum that he might one day get to sing songs that actually showcase his talent. Meanwhile, Vonzell returned to disco form with "On The Radio," proving that disco is a talent that a person can have. This is the second week in a row where she's come back from mediocrity with a disco song, and I for one cannot understand it -- I did not know that disco singing was a skill you could be born with, but I love that she was. It's a fun trick. Then Carrie sings "Man, I Feel Like A Woman," the Young Lady's Equivalent to the crap they've had Bo singing lately, and it's funny because I could not stop talking about Shania Twain in last week's recap, and now here she is, in "living" "color," and Carrie could not look more foolish, but whatever, she's fine.
Actually, this is the first I've wondered about Carrie's ultimate fate, although not too terribly much. As I've said before, it would be really awesome television if she went home before the Final Two. We shall see tonight. I'm fairly excited, aren't you?
Wednesday
Inbox bingo for this week: "Total Eclipse Of The Heart" and "Making Love Out Of Nothing At All" are in fact the same song, and the dude also wrote songs for Meatloaf, cool, and that song for Celine Dion where she ran around Meatloaf's house and there was a motorcycle and it was incomprehensible and maybe there were ghosts.
Open on three Idols: Carrie (preparing to cry from second one), Bo (wearing some damned sunglasses), and Vonzell (Thorazine grin with half-hearted dimples). In the audience, Paula has finally put her breasts away, and there is no Clive Sidious to be seen. Speaking of Star Wars, the entire audience got to go down the lot and see the new one after last night's broadcast, and we get several embarrassing shots of people pretending to be stunned and/or thrilled, and the Idols tell us how excited they are. I just got back from seeing it, and let me tell you that it's the only one of those movies I've actually looked forward to seeing, so it was nice that I liked it just fine. I will also say that there were several very exciting moments where some snap decisions were made, and that often those decisions had grave consequences.
Trips home! Vonzell got on a private jet dressed like Maggie Chascarillo, did some radio interviews -- Which are hard! You feel like an idiot the whole time! And the people are in a hurry so you feel like you're slowing down their fast radio lives! -- was in the paper, visited the USPS, and signed some autographs at Wal-Mart. Then she and her family hung out on a yacht, there was a huge crowd and she sang "I Have Nothing" and got the Key to Fort Myers, and was totally sweet and clearly soldiering on in the face of enormous exhaustion. She rules. Back in the live studio of tonight, she sings "Chain Of Fools" and sounds like a million bucks and completely owns the room and is vibrant and wonderful. I hope they all sing their Contestant's Choice song.
Well, maybe not Carrie, but Vonzell and Bo. Yes, Bo. The problem isn't that he's not awesome, and it's not that he's going to win, it's that he is awesome and going to win regardless of how hard they try to sell him. And they are trying damned hard this week, and it's gross and cynical and makes me feel like they think I'm so fucking stupid that I need things handed to me and overexplained because they don't trust the decisions they're asking me to make in the first place.
"One Way Or Another" is officially the most overused song of the last year. I can tell you at least fifty different movies or TV shows it's randomly shown up in, in my own personal life. I kind of hate it now. And I can't even ignore it because the pimpomercial is sucky and all about them in an ugly car trying to get away from paparazzi on the Pont de l'Alma -- "one way or another," see, they're going to "give them the slip." Tasteful.
Bo gets off a jet screaming "Sweet Home Alabama." Quite droll. He's met by two of the Skynyrd in his hotel room and he freaks out about how great that is, which makes me happy, and then he goes to the radio station, and then he screams. Out of the window of a limousine. Screaming out the window. Of a stretch. SUV. Limo. On its way to Wal-Mart. It's pretty much exactly like watching the Kennedys. Back in the days when decorum meant something, I mean. He cries and it's very touching, and he gets the Key to Helena, and then he sings to 8,000 people, even more uncomfortable with the madness of crowds as I was at Star Wars, but at least they are his people. Skynyrd gives him a hand, which again makes me happy; he's cross-eyed about it. It's so great. Back in the studio, he sings the a cappella song again. I could watch this every day of my life and it would still send a chill right through me or something. I shouldn't joke, because it seems like I might actually have to do so.
Carrie flew to Checotah (before AI she'd never been on a plane before, FYI), and then met some adorable fans and did some media spots, including one about how Ryan is in love with her: Awesome. Then she rode in a horse-drawn carriage with her grandfather, sang a patriotic song and Oklahoma put their hands over their hearts, and it was Carrie Underwood Day. Imagine if every day was Carrie Day: what that would actually be like. Then, parade/autograph signing/flesh-toned lipstick, lots of hugging, love of all animals, and very sad leaving, plus crying without tears. If she wins that could be her coronation song, "Crying Without Tears." Then she -- how weird -- she sings "Crying" again, so I guess instead of Contestant's Choice, the theme is: "Everybody's Best Song." Much better to watch. I couldn't handle "Satisfaction" again.
Then, with like five seconds left: 37 million votes, and they're separated by 1%. Carrie was awesome, Bo gives goosebumps and sunglasses rage, and Vonzell has grown the most. Then she gets K-Locked and is going home. Her strange pimp contingent, humble recapper, and Ryan are all sad but not shocked. Then: Video Journey (lots of cute outfits and stuff), which Vonzell cries prettily and not crazily while watching. It ends with an awesome slo-mo kiss, blown to us, and Ryan congratulates her sweetly, getting her back on track. Then he points out sadly how the group sing ("United We Stand") is very poignant, just to make sure we get it. He does not point out, however, that it sucks really, really bad.
Since they pushed the group sing back past the reveal, the net is that they all sound totally horrible and fucked up and sad, but instead of being terrible to listen to, it's just sad and a little sweet. It sounds like shit: nobody has it together, at all, not even Bo, and Carrie's of course a huge messâ¦but it's still a very good sendoff. Goodbye, Baby V.
Aww. I wish these kids could sleep one day. week, we all can!
Tuesday
Ryan's wearing his "I [Flaming Heart] Celebrity Gossip." That's tricky, semiotically, because are we talking about Paula and her indiscretions, or the guys pretending to have dated you? Or something else I don't know about? Or did you get drunk at Paula Rubio's house and this is the only thing that would fit? Very interesting. If I didn't have Ryan's t-shirts to think about, what would I think about? It's not like I think they're specifically coded messages just for me, or anything like that. Not saying it wouldn't be awesome, just saying this stupid show still hasn't beaten me. I'm just not crazy enough yet.
There's only 1% "separating them," and even though I'm not sure I know what he means -- would that be between the highest and lowest-voted of the three? Or between each of them? Or between a random set of two of them? Or what? -- that's still incredible. And I mean, kind of, that it is not credible. But still, it means they did their homework making this close race thing happen, like they do every year. Randy's wearing a somewhat frenetic light blue paisley shirt, and Paula's breasts are going quietly mad on the table before her. And Clive Davis is in the hizzy! Check out the total corpse of him! Clive Sidious! Clive is wearing a necktie in my favorite shade of blue, M40Y75, with a clashing pocket square. This fashion review brought to you by the endless cheering for no reason at all.
Last fake Wednesday, it's suddenly kind of freaky how empty the room looks. Remember in seasons past when we practically lived in the red room? The theme, Ryan tells us, is "It's All About Choice." Whatever. They'll be singing three songs, one of which will be chosen for them by Clive, one of which they will choose themselves, and finally, each of the judges has picked a song for them. The assignments of judge to contestant, we shall see, make less than no sense, and are pretty much as stupid as the songs each of them will eventually pick for his/her contestant. I wonder if this was by coin flip or something, because it's one of the most random things in this very random week. Ryan explains that Clive is the chairman and CEO of BMG, which is of course the label to which the winner will be handing his or her soul over -- I mean, signing -- at the end of all this. They don't even pretend to know or care about this, and then Ryan shakes each of their hands, and says in a kind of "I see dead people" whisper, "I just touched the American Idol…who is it?" They all laugh nervously and it's kind of scream-inducing. The stress of this is getting to me, and that's saying a lot considering that there's no suspense about what's going to happen here.
Ryan explains to us that, in order to make it easier for the voters to get through, each contestant tonight will have two possible numbers to call. He leaves out the part where he's going to fuck this up on live TV.
Paula tells us a little story about how we've heard Vonzell sing many ballads, and how she has a beautiful voice. She questions the key Vonzell started in, calls it "pitchy" again, but then Paulas that Vonzell "ended up nailing" her power voice. She says that the ending was great. Where does Paula go in the middle of songs? It's always about the ending, and often about the beginning, but she never comments on the middle part of the song, where the actual singing takes place. What is that about? Simon goes right for the throat: "No tears tonight? Good. Biggest night of your life, this." Wow with the pressure already; she's got two more songs coming and she doesn't need your crap, Cowell. He notes that she seemed a little nervous, that it wasn't her best performance, and notes all the bum notes in the middle of the song (hee!), and points out that she's got two more songs coming up. She smiles and agrees, and he cautions her again: "But you've got to do better." She again agrees. She just smiles and agrees, because her brain has shut off at this point. My friend Melissa does that, too, when she couldn't care less what you're saying: reverts to politeness and empty nodding. Like, Ryan's reading the numbers, and she even agrees with them in a good-natured fashion. She's giving assent to integers now. This girl needs a nap. She continues to nod and smile prettily and in general get her bobblehead on, and it's kind of gruesome, and then we're done.
Ryan looks a little freaked out when we come back. Maybe because of the "the OC loves Idol" sign behind him? Clive explains to Ryan that when he was considering his choice for Bo, he naturally thought of…an Elton John song. Yeah. And in terms of style (and stupid fucking sunglasses), he's not off-track. My problem here is that I hate, hate, hate this song "Don't Let The Sun Go Down On Me." It's personal, and I think I'm alone in this world as far as hating this song, but I hate it. I don't even have a reason. It's just boring, and it sounds like noise to me. I don't hear a pretty song when I hear this song, I just feel angry with it. I had really strong responses to a lot of music when I was a baby, like in my pre-verbal baby days. I would shut up and smile no matter what was going on if you played "Maggie May" or "Greensleeves," or anything from Tapestry, or the soundtrack of the cartoon of The Hobbit. I was a weird baby, I guess. Actually, looking at that list it's possible I was born in a Renaissance Faire and don't know it. But apparently I've always, always hated this song, like since before I could remember. Also the sound of Neil Young's voice, which I've been trying to get over my whole life, because I think he writes awesome songs.
So that's one very specific reason for me alone to hate this performance, but luckily, there are no others. It's really great, with the very fucking drama lights shining down on Bo, who again looks better than ever before, but not as much as he will tomorrow, or the day after that. Well, he's wearing fucking sunglasses, but you know, I think I've got that nailed, and if I'm right, I feel cruddy about getting so irritated by it. It's entirely possible that he's hiding behind them. And in my head, it goes to a place like this: imagine your life is a little ditty about Jack and Diane, or whatever, and your boyfriend is a mechanic with this certain smell of cigarettes and diesel fuel and sweat that never goes away, but it's a good kind of smell, even clean in its way, and he likes to play the guitar and he has a sensitive side and he makes you omelets on Sunday morning and he has eyes the exact color of a college blue book, the same exact color, but the truth is that he's from Chino and you're from Newport and there's no way it'll last. So you invite him to dinner with your folks, or happy hour with your friends at the advertising firm, and he's there with a beer making conversation, hair combed back, looking very sweet and presentable…but he's wearing sunglasses at the table. Because he's scared to death.
These little mini-soap operas of the imagination are why it takes me six hundred hours to get anything done. Anyway, there's this unavoidable bombastic male-diva kind of drama that's intrinsic to this song -- did Clay ever sing this? -- and one of the cool things is watching Bo try to work around that, because neither of us are feeling it. And that makes the performance better, and I don't think he particularly cares for the song, so he's doing a great job. He gives it his best, which, sometimes we've seen him throw in the towel over smaller violations of the Bo/Not-Bo binary that rules his choices, so I'm proud. He hits the chorus, and the whole crowd, plus double fake crowd on top of that, go wild. His jeans are awesome, very flared but still dirty looking, and then the ending of the song is retarded. It's one of those AI deals where the last word goes up, up, up, up a note at a time, but whatever. He did great.
Clive is amazed, and says that Bo "really captured the song," and that he's made Elton and Bernie "real proud tonight." Randy ratchets up the Dawg Pound nonsense yet another notch all, "You're forever in the Dawg Pound," and says it was hot. He was not sure about the song, but luckily, Bo can do anything, dude. Paula points out that he was already in the Dawg Pound -- in fact, last week he was named its ombudsman or something -- and Randy explains that he's now a lifetime member. Randy needs a shtick adjustment before year, I think. Paula says nothing else, really, but of course loved it. Simon calls it really great, and astounds everyone by saying he prefers Bo doing these more soulful, low-key numbers to the fake-rock bullshit of, I assume, "For The Love Of Money," or the song he'll sing last tonight. Simon explains to us that Bo's come in this week as a favorite to go through, and now there's no doubt that we'll see him week. Then, his mandatory massage complete, Simon stares out at nothing with an uninterested face and scratching of his chin. Bo cutely waves and smiles a real smile while the numbers are being read, but I still get this feeling that there's something tearing him up inside about how far he can go with this. Just letting go and actually being here, I mean. I imagine the internal stresses of this whole cred thing are a pretty much constant source of pain. In a movie he'd be swigging Pepto at this point to show us that he's having an existential thingie. I wish he could calm down and be happy about it, because this obvious conflict and ambivalence is no fun to watch.
POLL: When Bo wins, the ambivalence is going to cause a scandalous contract-breaching problem about six months later: True False Bo isn't going to win, so: irrelevantClive explains that he chose Roy Orbison's "Crying" for Carrie -- which, he pointlessly and maybe negatively points out, k.d. lang has also rocked -- and you know what? I'm actually looking forward to her performances these days. It's weird, but I'm okay with it. A Final Three that I enjoy watching is about five thousand times more than I expected when I got this show, but it's true. And DAMN, but she sounds amazing, from the first note on. I'm not familiar with a bunch of k.d. lang songs, but I wonder if it's close to her version. Carrie's voice sounds completely beautiful, and we haven't even gotten to the crazy part yet. On a side note, though, are Roy Orbison and k.d. lang really all that different? I'm making a list of their substantial differences and I'm not coming up with much. They both have that bomber jacket lonely songwriter thing happening. Carrie's a really good singer, whatever else we can say -- and have said -- about her. Pronouncing the "-ing" of "crying" always sounds really nasal, so I can't even count off for that. Her emotions are pretty, um, subtle, but she's really giving 110%. It's really good. It feels short, when it's over, which is always a good sign.
Clive says that she did a "real strong job," that she "felt" and "captured" the strength of the melody. He mentions that he would have loved to get "the extra spark, the falsetto of Roy" at the end there, but he thinks she did a good job. As a performance note, that's not so harsh, really, since it's about interpretation and not technique. Randy points out to Clive that this is "a real competition going on tonight," and calls it "perfect" and "one of your best vocals." I agree. I mean, I really don't think she's going to win, but it was still a really nice thing to watch. Probably one of my favorites of the season. Paula gets all deep and shit talking about how "that song is so haunting," and says that Carrie "gave a very poignant, brilliant, subdued but really nice, nice performance." Everything she says to Carrie sounds mean to me, even though I know it's not. Paula starts nodding her head, in agreement with herself, and forgets to stop. She just keeps nodding.
Simon would love to have heard an even more stripped-down version, because that was so lovely, although he does point out a problem with the last note, and also that she continues to be robotic and "wooden." He agrees that it was "good, one of your best," but sums it up well: "Round one Bo, though." She smiles, because of course he said that. She waves only with her eyes to some people in the crowd, and you can easily see how freaked out she is. She tries to run away as we act out, and Ryan grabs her to chat, and she gives him this hand in the air like, "Well, dude? What was I supposed to do?" But she seems happy with it. She knows she did fucking awesome, but that she's going to have to raise the bar in the round. Which will be contestants' choice, which will be AWESOME.
Ryan pulls out the stupid CD and tries to sell it, and also calls the 41-date tour the "best show ever." Wow. Really? I mean…really?
Vonzell will sing "Chain Of Fools," which she sang in her audition, as we saw last week, so you know this is going to be great. Well, compared to her other performance, and not those of the obvious and predetermined Final Two. The problem with Contestant's Choice is that they've sung these songs a million times, which means that injecting passion is going to be difficult, plus there are the crazy nerves they have tonight for whatever reason, plus the crazy talking of the judges that doesn't really mirror the truth of what's happening. It's about one hundred times harder than it should be, tonight. Having said that, though, she does a great job.
Clive is kind of wishy-washy from the beginning of his sentence to the end of it: "You picked a true soul classic but gave it a likeable pop makeover…but you missed the soul essence of the song." Started out valedictory, ended up with a whimper. Randy calls the performance "one of the best vocals on this show," which is pushing it, and says she made it her own (DRINK!), and that "that's what this show is about." Um, singing? What are you talking about? The crowd cheers this praise, but not overmuch. Paula points out how this song is sung a million times every season, for auditions and such, but that "nobody's nailed it with such gusto, with such passion, with such soul, with such everything." She does, doesn't she Paula? She sings with such everything. "It's all about you," she gleams at Vonzell, "this was great." Simon picks up the "likeability" thing from Clive's comments, saying that Vonzell's main strength is her "likeability factor," but in case we don't understand this as a subtle de-pimp, he adds, "It didn't matter about the vocals, it was terrific and great fun." Ryan then proceeds to say the wrong number (the number he gives for her is actually for Bo, and we are live), which throws him off, so he repeats the whole thing again and gives the right number, and then shoots us to commercial, looking dead-eyed over at Vonzell to see if she noticed. She's too busy grinning and waving and winking and blowing kisses to care, thank God.
Back from commercial, Ryan's in a crowd of gay men who can't decide whether to stare at him or at the camera, and he says, "Back with you on American Idol Seacrest I just want to I have these numbers correct for you," which is very Paula, and also, I love tmesis but that randomly interjected "Seacrest!" might be my favorite tmesis ever. There's a spooky kid that looks like Peter Pan over Ryan's shoulder as Ryan mentions, for the first of one million times tonight, how "courageous" Bo's choice is going to be. The reason it's "bold" and "courageous," of course, is that he's going to sing a cappella, without accompaniment. The song he's singing is "Within A Dream," a cult obsession by Badlands, which itself is almost a cappella usually, and which people go crazy about if they think you're talking shit. So I will say here and now that it is a lovely song, and his performance of it is wonderful, and not entirely clean -- there are some off notes, but they add to the overall effect. Bo's not wearing sunglasses, just singing this a cappella song and being smoking hot with his hands clasped behind him, so that's nice. But yeah, it's pretty fucking amazing. As much as I hate the stunt of this, it's still a fucking amazing performance, and those are two separate things and I'd do well to separate them in my own mind.
But damn, though. I mean, come on. It's so fucking overselling it. Like now all of a sudden somebody that didn't like Bo is going to like him and start voting? Based on them telling us over and over what a fucking amazing accomplishment it was for him to go up against these two other people -- who are not as good as he is -- with yet another tweak to his position on the show? We get it. Simply by loving and voting for Bo, we are giving the show a certain kind of finger. We also get to take a stand -- courageous of us, isn't it -- against boy bands, and Britney Spears, and the corruption of the entertainment industry, and any time we've been embarrassed because we've been duped by the media and felt like jerks for it later.
But this is a fucking onion, this is like fucking eXistenZ, because inside the bubble is another bubble. It's like The Matrix. How do you know there's not a Matrix outside the Matrix? If they are selling rebellion, then how can it still be "rebellion"? This revolution is being televised. You're assimilating the transgression back into the spectacle, which means it's not revolution, just a new kind of strategy, and I hate it, because I want him to be famous and not care about the rest of it, but I really hate the way they've chosen to market him. It's like punk. Marissa Cooper listens to punk, and she bought the albums at Virgin records. On CD. Elvis was punk once too. You know?
Point being, he's good enough on his own, and I think he knows that. So anyway, I'll shut up now, because we get to see Clive gushing over how Bo "took a real risk here indeed" and how it was "bold" (2) and "very courageous" (3) of him, and then Clive just goes ahead and says how much he's going to enjoy making their album together, and some white people clap in the audience. Randy makes the fairly salient point that everybody sings a cappella, in the auditions, and he takes the interesting perspective that this was therefore a return to form. Weird, but I get it. Randy tells him he's the bomb, and that he was "courageous" (4). Paula makes a delicious word salad about how Bo is "a gift" both onstage and inside his soul, and then Simon cracks that Bo "may have just put 34 musicians out of work." Cut to the band, where three musicians are not quite sure how to take that, and one backup singer is shaking her head and cursing openly at Simon, and that part's awesome. I love those backup singers. Oh no you did not just say that he put us out of work. It's great, I wish they'd stayed on her longer, because I think she's joking, but I'd like to know for sure. I swear Ryan's voice goes up an octave when Bo's around, and then he reads the numbers and Bo is cool some more.
Carrie has chosen "Making Love Out Of Nothing At All," by Air Supply. (Or Meatloaf, or Bonnie Tyler, or whatever. It's the same song as every other song.) It's an awful song, yes, but while it starts a little low for her, this puts the sweet part of the song, which is the majority, right in the middle of her range. It's a very theatrical song, and has too much emotion for its own self, which is a weird fit for robo-Carrie. She gives it a good shot, and she has cute bouncing moves and weird high-stepping kicky moves that have nothing to do with her song. It's very cute and stompy and the camera swoops around on her last note and that is very nice. While the song is boring and she was born with no soul, it's lovely nonetheless. I wish she'd picked a more known song for this, but whatever, she's fine.
Clive says that the song of her choice is very special to him, because he's connected to it in some way, like he produced it or something. It was a number one somewhere. ["And that 'somewhere,' if memory serves, was '1981-83,' when Air Supply had a string of moistly melodramatic number ones that were on everywhere, all the time, like when you think about going with your mom to the iron-on-t-shirt place, that's what's playing in your head, and then as the clock struck Debbie Gibson you could hear them, very faintly, 'weeeeeeee're meeeeltiiiiiiiing,' and then it was the nineties." -- Sars is old] He says that she "did it with conviction," that her "voice soared," and that she did a great job. Randy lets her know that she can definitely sing. He says that every time she gets onstage, he looks forward to hearing her sing, which I said above. It's so weird to suddenly like her. Paula gives her usual curt "You sang it great. Unbelievable." Simon tells her she's had a good night tonight, but that maybe this performance was not as great as the first one. That's certainly true. She and Simon giggle very sweetly and intimately about the total stupidity of anybody trying to follow what Bo just did, and it's cute. He wraps up his critique by suggesting that she might have pushed too hard in the middle of the song, and of course the audience disagrees, and she and Simon continue to grin at each other. is round three, Judges' Choice. Also known as "when good singers meet terrible songs, and everything goes to hell."
The visits home are incorporated into this part, because the Judges' Choice songs are revealed during the visit home, which we'll see a lot more of tomorrow night. First we see Vonzell in Florida, where the Mayor reads her message from Simon (whose name he mispronounces): she'll be singing Donna Summer's "On The Radio." That's awesome, she's going to rock it. She has this disco diva ability that I didn't know came standard in a person. I think about this all the time, like, what if you were born with a freaky savant ability to do something like be a blacksmith, and never knew it? Or what if you were born with like an ability that we won't have the technology for until you're long dead? Like maybe there were genius sportscasters that died in the Black Plague or something. You know? Vonzell's top in the studio is very sparkly and very pink and very cute. She likes things that are shiny. Me too. Paula too. She rocks this one out entirely, as I thought she would. There's not much to say about it, which is the total downfall of both Vonzell and most disco, beyond "it was good, I liked it." At the end there's weird reverb, which is funny, but that's not why she giggles -- she giggles because she always giggles.
Clive says that she was totally in her element here, that Simon picked a "real good song" for her, and then Randy kind of echoes my pointless approval: "That was great, I enjoyed it." Then he and Paula kind of double-fatality her at the same time, all, "You've thrown all caution to the wind and you're having fun and that's what's important, and you should have fun always no matter what happens." Ouch! Simon -- en route to giving Clive a big ditto -- is interrupted by a music cue, which he ignores in a very cool way, instead of looking annoyed or shitty. Well, as far as we can see. I imagine that he ordered that person brought to him, and there were unspeakable punishments.
Bo is in the lobby of a courthouse or something in Alabama. Bet that's the first time he's had his hands free in that building. They tell him the song that Paula picked, and it is "Satisfaction," which is exactly the kind of stupid thing she'd pick. That's a "can you hear the spoons" song if ever there was one, it's all about attitude and duck lips and hip-dancing and acting like an idiot, and Bo will not do any of these things. All rock is not the same thing, Paula. Just because you've got the non-word "rocker" lodged in your brain does not mean that you should just go with the first "rock" song you can think of. There's like fifty damned years of good southern rock, with soul and blues and all the stuff Bo likes, and you go with some anemic cock-blocking British novelty song? I love the Stones, but dude, that could not have less to do with Bo. That's so fifth grade. It has all the stuff that Paula likes, which is: loud noises, a part where you can sing along, lots of "hey hey hey," opportunities to clap, masculine posing, moronic lyrics, and simplistic guitar chords. She should just sing it herself if she likes it so much, because this has fucking nothing to do with Bo Bice.
He brings the energy, and panders as well as his hardcore legit self can, which is, surprisingly, a shitload. He scrunches up his little face and yells like a Scorpio and pretends to be angry about how he can't get no satisfaction and it's…not bad, because he's great, but it's still just a fucking circus with strobe lights and like one good part where he's actually singing and being sexy and then the spoons come back and he finally gets that rock thing happening at the end, and it's nice.
Clive says that he "really nailed it" and that Bo had "the right spirit, right attitude." Overall, Clive loves that he's taken three different songs and "made each one of them your own" (DRINK!), and he yells that this has been Bo's night. And that's not even the most bald thing that's said at this point. Randy goes all, "I feel like I've been at the Bo concert tonight -- the album's out already, and it's triple platinum, and I'm at the show." Paula yells freakishly about how we've only got free Bo for one more week before he fully becomes a commodity, so we should enjoy it while we can, before the machine eats him, but her syntax and loopiness make it very Delphic, or like a personal threat: You're all going to pay, you've got one more week for free, but then that's it. Lights out, motherfuckers. She then claps for her own cleverness. Simon laughs, and admits that Bo's had a very strong night tonight, but he wasn't feeling this last one. "For me, I've heard all this at weddings," he says, and calls it a "bit of light fluff," and actually tries to get Bo to cop to this, which is hilarious. While Ryan says the numbers, Bo glows, because he loved that whole thing. And yeah, I bet it was fun to sing that song and get such insane response, but I'm still with Simon. On the other hand, we've I guess belayed the unavoidable "Sweet Home Alabama" for another week, and I'm happy about that.
Back in Checotah, people clap for Randy Jackson's name as the Mayor reveals the "facsimile" with Carrie's song. The Mayor is so deeply comfortable with his masculinity that he can barely bring himself to read Randy's choice for Carrie: "Man, I Feel Like A Woman." Being that I, um, don't? Feel like a woman, I mean? I would have no problem with telling Carrie that. But whatever. It's a fucking horrible choice, and for all the reasons above about Bo's stuff, not to mention the Shania stuff in last week's recap. Shania songs are not songs, they are recordings of infants experimenting on a Casio, and Carrie deserves better than this. You know, until tonight, I honestly thought she might be the chosen one, over Bo. But the ridiculous ways in which she's being de-pimped, and the even more ridiculous ways that Bo's being praised as the savior of all music, put some English on that. So she sings it, and you know, the song is bullshit, so what to say? The first verse is at the bottom of her range, so she sounds like angry robot and very nasally up in her nasal, but the chorus part is very cute, and she does her little dances and has comforting faces that approximate a human person having fun. It's still a retarded song, and not even Carrie -- who comes with her own set of Vuitton knock-off baggage to schlep, as a performer -- can do anything about it.
Carrie interrupts Clive to scream, "I see some guys mouthing the words out there!" And, like, again: what the hell do you even mean? He tells Carrie, "Country pop radiates from you, your face and your body." What the hell does that even mean? Randy gives mad compliments to his own choice, but I'm too busy trying to figure out who decided what judge would get what contestant, because this was awful, awful. Paula, rapidly realizing she needs to at some point be nice to Carrie, gives her the most pointless of her praise phrases, all about how she loves it when Carrie has fun: "When you're smiling and in your element. It's going to be tough between the girls. I'm proud of you." Then she goes back to staring into space. Simon says that the first part of the song didn't even sound like her, and was probably quite uncomfortable to sing, but that the second part of the song worked. He says he thinks that was enough to get her into the final, and everybody cheers.
Then we cut to a famous guy I don't know, and to him is…Lindsay Wagner? Either that's not her, or she actually is a cybernetic part-woman, part-robot, because whoever that was? Was six million dollars worth of fine. I always thought that show was fictional. Does this mean there's a K.I.T.T. somewhere out there? Or a real-life George O'Malley? That would rock.
Review time! Finally! You mean they're not going to sing twelve more songs? We see Carrie smiling nervously, and I can't believe that I even doubt her right now. We see Vonzell doing better in rehearsal on that Anwar song, then rocking "Chain Of Fools" exactly the same as she did in her live performance, and then being adorable and great in rehearsal, with fake cheering. Which increases in the recap tenfold for "Don't Let The Sun Go Down On Me," quiets down again for the a cappella song, from which they manage to pluck one of the very few duffed notes, immediately cutting to the screaming about "Satisfaction." Then Carrie singing "Crying," which is beautiful, and then the Air Supply song at the one point where it's exciting. Then: Carrie pretending to "feel like a woman." Carrie pretending to feel. The Idols clap exhaustedly as Ryan screams at the camera with a vein bulging in his head, and we're out.
Thursday
I won't be recapping World's Worst Auditions, mainly because week is going to be like three or four hours and I don't have the time, but I will say: Adam Pratt, baby. Seems like a lifetime ago.
Wednesday
I get obsessed with names, like in the credits of TV shows. I don't even care who they play or what their role is on the show. Like "Bunim." I just hear it over and over in my head and I wonder how it's actually pronounced. Or Joey's sister Bessie, "Nina Repeta." Over and over and over. "Nina Repeta Nina Repeta Nina Repeta." Silently, of course. And so this season, being that I watch every second of every episode multiple times, I have now become completely obsessed with "Cecile Frot-Coutaz." What the hell is that? She's an Executive Producer, so I'm sure she's very nice and cool or whatever. Studio people are usually geniuses, and overly kind at that. But "Frot-Coutaz Frot-Coutaz Frot-Coutaz Bunim Bunim Bagdasarian Asaad Kelada Bunim." You know? Do you do that? Sorry. Anyway…
We open on Carrie looking freaked out, Vonzell smiling shyly, and Bo in fucking sunglasses. I'm done with that, but I wanted to point it out, and yeah, I wish I could reach into the screen and rip those goddamned things off his face, because they're like my Tell-Tale Heart and I can see them even when he's not onscreen, but whatever. My love for him exceeds my hate for them, so I'll get over it in my own time. Back on fake last night, after the show, the whole audience got to go see the new Star Wars movie. It's not bad, actually, and I'm not really a fan, but I liked it. Ryan's all, "You thought Simon was evil? Wait 'til you see this guy…" and he reveals a picture of Darth Vader. There's a guy in the crowd who pretends to be losing his mind about this, and then a lame girl does it too, and then on the walk over to the other theatre, the Idols -- clearly in response to an off-camera order to "tell us how excited you are!" -- all say to the camera, "We're very excited!" "I'm excited too!" "It's exciting!" Then, back in the studio live, Ryan asks Carrie if she liked it, and without changing her vocal quality in any way goes, "Like it I did." She bobs her head at the end, and that's the only way you'd know she's doing a bit. Ryan's like, "That's your Yoda?" And it is. Everybody claps for her shitty Yoda. It's funny.
So Vonzell went back to Ft. Myers wearing an engineer's cap and Uggs, and hung out on a crazy balcony reading about herself in the paper, then did radio and TV interviews, which are hard. She screams the Pigford Interview Scream, which is never, ever cute. Then she drives to the post office in a white stretch SUV limo. Aww, no. She's amazed to be coming to work in a limousine, and that's cute and fun, and funny, but like, it's a white, stretch, SUV…never mind, sweetie. That's awesome. Now let's head to Wal-Mart. Thus is the life of a princess, yes? She hangs out on a yacht with her family, and that's awesome, and they wave to people on other boats, some of whom have signs, then she goes to some park or something and sings "I Have Nothing" to them. The Mayor gives her the key to the city, and then they go to a cute, nice place for dinner, and there are some cookies with her face on them. She's loopy and exhausted on the ride back to the jet, and pretty adorably out of it.
Back at the studio, we're doing it all ass-backward, so they're doing sing-outs first, and then group-sing last, after the elimination. This is cool in terms of narrative, which we'll talk about in a bit, but doesn't actually make any sense. She sings "Chain Of Fools" to Simon, while sitting on the desk in front of him. Then she totally rocks it ten times more than she did last night, and it's pretty great. She's stomping all over the place and being amazing and you can't take your eyes off of her. She gets up on the catwalk and is just really neat to watch. She's got a power and a presence that we don't see often enough with her, because it's a lot more interesting and beautiful than merely cute Vonzell is. But then, it's more of an act, too, so maybe it's just the artificiality of it that I like. (It's entirely probable that that is why I'm feeling Carrie more these days, too; I've thought about that more than once.)
Then they sing "One Way Or Another" for the pimpomercial as they flee from paparazzi in the ugly car. I hate that song, I hate this video, and I'm a little squicked out by the whole high-speed-chase-with-the-paparazzi thing. If you're going to do a Hard Day's Night takeoff, why not just leave it at that? Just running around and your vida loca of it all. It's more interesting, and plus…oh, well, they do have to include the car, I guess. In the car commercial. That makes sense. Well, anyway, it's lame, and I did so enjoy the one last week.
He's such a cheeseball that when Bo gets off his jet and screams, "Sweet home Alabama! Yeah!" I can't tell if he's being spontaneous, or if he was told to do it and is fucking it up on purpose. Two Skynyrds are in his hotel, and he screams very adorably, "Get the hell out of here!" Then it would seem that he got drunk, because we lacuna to him talking crazy into the camera with his arms around the Skynyrds. Then there is some unavoidable inflation stuff that culminates in him yelling out of the window of the limo. Which is, again, a stretch SUV limo. Now, your mileage may vary, but I think that limousines themselves are declassé, in terms of aspiration. They serve a purpose, and I get that, but I have never understood the desire to ride in one. And so that's like six degrees of tacky, to me, when you add all the qualifiers. On the other hand, as something signifying stardom, I imagine it's very satisfying, and I don't have an issue with it on that level. I do enjoy, however, that these SUV limos keep taking them to Wal-Mart.
A little girl yells at Bo not to cut his hair, and they are cute together, and then they give Bo the key to the city. His words completely fail him, and it's tough to watch, because he's having a full-on overwhelmed-by-emotion moment on TV. And there's a whole Scorpio thing here that I won't go into, but it's pretty much like seeing him at a complete disadvantage. And he cries, and everybody cries, and I cry but only a little, and Anna cries, and it is awesome and sweet and touching and reminded me of how great he is. Then there's a parade, and…now, I don't want to generalize about everyone in Alabama? But specifically the ones I can see on my screen? What you're thinking of in your head is what I'm seeing on the screen. I cannot speak for other people in Alabama that are not on the TV at this time. Then he sings with Skynyrd and talks to the camera some more as people scream, scream, scream.
Back in the studio, he does the same exact a cappella as last night, with the same lighting and the same looks in the same directions and hitting the same notes. All that's different are the jeans. And I couldn't care less, because that's Bo telling you the truth about who he is: he's a performer. And that's all he's been doing, and there's nothing wrong with that, but I'm not fooled, Bo Bice! Do you hear me? I know you're fucking talented! And I'm going to tell everybody! The crowd freaks out for a million years -- actually, that makes sense, because they wouldn't have been here last night so much, which means they probably saw it on TV, but have not been in the room with Bo Bice, and as we know, there's nothing like being in the room with Bo Bice. So they're justified in freaking out, basically. But man, it's exhausting from this end, because on my screen, they were identical, and whatever whatever whatever, if you don't see this as fake and silly, I don't want to fight you on it, because his talent is undeniable, and I like him, and I don't care why you like him, as long as you do, everything that rises must converge. I'm just insulted on his behalf, as I've said.
Carrie flew to Checotah in a private jet, having never flown before this show, which is super-fun. She gets off the plane and yells, "It smells like home!" I don't even know what that means, and I hope I never, ever will. Then she meets fan-people really early on a rainy morning, and people yell at her and say crazy things, and then one of the radio guys tries to imply that Ryan is in love with Carrie, which all other things aside is ludicrous, and she laughs uproariously. Then there's a parade of sorts, though it seems the whole parade is pretty much Carrie, in a horse-drawn carriage with her grandfather. Maybe that's how we do it in the OK, bitch? The people of her town and state and university load her up with honors and stuff, and then she goes back to her old high school to sign autographs, and that's awesome. Then she goes to her house, where lots of people are clapping and there are lots of girls who are identical, and she hugs animals and she hugs her family. There is much love in Carrie's life, and that's so good to see. Then she doesn't even try to fake cry, really, talking into the camera about how she's missing her family and home but needs to get back to work. It's a train wreck of fake emotion, but maybe she's just weirding out like Vonzell did. She's a little weird on her own, and they've gotta be just on their last gallon by this point in the week.
Carrie sings "Crying" again, and it starts weaker than it did last night, but is generally the same amount of great as last night. The song is perfectly suited to her voice, it's so weird. All her strengths. Out of nine fucking songs, this and the a cappella bullshit were the only ones that actually helped or were enjoyable. No, Vonzell was good in two of her songs too. Still. This song is not one of my favorites, of all the songs in this world, but I love her rendition of it. Afterwards, it seems Ryan's having some trouble in his pants. I don't know what it is. It looks like he's wearing six pairs of underwear. It's strange.
Then, chop chop chop. There were over 37 million votes last night, which total freaks me out every week. Carrie was "awesome," America's sweetheart, and "outstanding." Bo gave everybody "goose bumps" and Clive a huge production boner. Vonzell "has grown the most," and she's going home. She smiles because it's been obvious the whole time, so what can you do, and then she hugs the other two, and Bo rubs her back lightly during the Video Journey. We see her eyebrowless audition, in the pink and green DZ/AKA pride, and then lots of footage of her in the recording studio she loved so much, and the cowgirl outfit, and the sexy red dress, and lots of different levels of curl in the hair, and emotional extremes of all kinds, and then a lovely slo-mo kiss blown to the camera. I had no idea I remembered that much stuff about Vonzell Solomon. I recognized almost every single shot in that montage.
Vonzell cries, and FOX is actually being cool for once, because we're going over into Stacked, but we keep going with this, which is nice. Ryan points out that the song they're going to sing -- which I've never even fucking heard -- is so poignant because how could they have known when they picked this song…that someone would be eliminated? Huh? Not like that happens every week, so how is this a coincidence of any kind? The song is "United We Stand," and is not a song I would ever like, but this is a terrible, terrible rendition, because everybody's voices are ragged and hellish and sad and deeply, deeply tired. Like, Mariah levels of tired. I always say I don't watch Survivor because I don't like watching them get skinny, but I think turning into Mariah circa 2001 is the same thing. Just like going generally nutso and talking to yourself like Gollum is an unavoidable issue on Big Brother, which is like my favorite reality show of all time and I cannot wait for it to start again. But, like, if they weren't bummed out about the elimination or the imaginary poignancy of the song, they've also spent the last three days (or, you know, months) in a non-stop freak-out, and the last half hour has been the brand new "most stressful time" in their whole lives. So all of these things mix together in the awful singing, and it is a heady brew.
But somehow, Vonzell saves it, and turns it into some kind of metaphor, some kind of outside-the-box, fourth-wall kind of thing where she goes down to the judges and thanks each one of them, whilst still singing, and Simon kisses her cheek, and it's very real, and super-sweet, and somehow it goes from this stupid thing, this group sing-out that is complete ass, to something powerful. Something like how they're all in this together, like The Shit, and nobody who was not In The Shit will ever understand how completely they're undone at this point. I don't want to presume, so I won't include myself. Catch me week when I'm passing out ice creams on TRL in my underwear, but until then, I'm keeping it together. For you!
Seacrest out.