Previously: Ow, my ears.
Tonight we'll be heading to Los Angeles and Detroit. Of course, this is all voiced over scenes from bad auditions. Just assume that when the show is giving you information about what's going on, bad auditions are also playing on the screen. One girl is singing a song from Mulan. I don't know.
Credits. Sing, transgendered Terminator! Sing!
We head back to the Rose Bowl in Pasadena for the round of auditions. People holler and shout and wave and camera-whore. It looks like every desperate wannabe in Los Angeles has shown up in the hopes of getting that big break. It's either this or another episode of Elimidate. Kristin "Goody Two-Shoes" Holt asks the aspiring losers stupid questions. She wishes all the kids sleeping out in the cold Pasadena night good luck. Uh, yeah -- after seeing the kids in New York, I'm not exactly feeling much sympathy for these folks. Of course, I wouldn't feel any sympathy for them if they had to spend the night on an ice floe, but still. They show clips of the local FOX affiliate covering the existence of the line. I'm not sure what we're supposed to gather from that clip, other than a confirmation of everything we already know about FOX's news judgment.
Much to my surprise, they make mention of the fact that there are rounds of auditions before the contestants get to the judges. They show a girl crying who sang neither well enough, nor badly enough, to go before the Triumvirate. They're also nice enough to pan across all the litter left behind in the parking lot by the contestants. Because real stars don't pick up their own shit. They show Randy "Mr. Big Stuff" Jackson arriving in his [product-placed car], while Paula "Fashion Victim" Abdul schmoozes with some of the kids, probably begging them to ask her for autographs. Simon "Waitin' Ta Hate" Cowell arrives fashionably thirty minutes late in his own [product-placed car].
So let's get to the auditions. Yay! Sucking! First up is Equoia Coleman, 22, who is on crutches because she was bitten on her foot by a brown recluse spider. Ow, ow, ow. Those things are nasty. I saw something on Animal Planet once with a couple of women who were bitten by brown recluse spiders and ended up having their fingers rot off. I am not exaggerating. Equoia sings "You Give Good Love" by Whitney Houston. And she doesn't suck. I'm shocked that they started an episode and didn't immediately toss us into all the sucking. Paula points to her arm to indicate goose bumps. Or perhaps she's just warning Equoia that the venom is spreading. They all love her. Simon is surprised a record label hasn't snatched her up already. She's invited to Hollywood. Hopefully, she'll still have a foot when she gets there.
But now that we've had a touch of good, we've got to turn to the suck. Robert, a creepy-looking nerd boy, butchers "Celebration," and does hysterically awful "Danger, Will Robinson!" arm gestures. He ends with a goofy "I'm riding a horse!" dance. He's not invited to Hollywood.
We get a clip show of people blowing their lyrics, including a guy in a leopard-print shirt who has his hair styled to look like the headdresses that pharaohs used to wear.
up is James Visperas, 23, who chats with Ryan "Leather and Lace" Seacrest before the auditions. Obviously James was asked by producers for an embarrassing moment and obliged them with an answer, which Ryan is now bringing up on-camera. James, it seems, set fires as a kid. He accidentally burned a whole house down while playing with fire in a closet. Ryan says, "So you came out of the closet and burned the house down." James laughs, because even so, he'll never be as big a flamer as Ryan.
James heads into the audition wearing one of those lace-up Robin Hood shirts that Justin and R.J. worked last season. He sings "My Girl," which really needs to be banned. Most of these guys can't sell the sentiment, James included. But he's got a strong, solid voice, which is more than you can say for most of the guys we hear. He gets invited to Hollywood.
up is Robyn Hanks, 20. We see her mother waiting outside, and she seems to be staring warily around. Robyn sings "Get Here" and has a lovely voice. There's a little vibrato, but not too much. When Robyn's done, for some unknown reason, Paula asks her to sing a verse of a more upbeat song as well. Outside in the hallway, Mom snarks, "What, is she singing every song in the list?" Kristin is standing with her, and gives the camera an "oh no, what do I do if this woman goes nuts?" look. Robyn switches to "Isn't She Lovely" and still has a nice voice. Out in the hall, Mom says that the only thing Simon could criticize would be Robyn's shoes. Kristin asks what sort of shoes Robyn's wearing. Mom says, "I don't care -- that's the only thing that wouldn't look bogus." Kristin nods politely and maps out an exit strategy in her head. She might have to gnaw off an arm to escape, but that shouldn't be a problem with her teeth. Kristin points out that American Idol has made mistakes before. She would most certainly know.
Anyway, the judges all love Robyn and invite her to Hollywood. She rushes out into the hall and hugs her mom. Ryan has joined them as well, and tells us that it's a good thing Robyn moved on because Mom had already planned a response should Li'l Robyn get rejected. Mom repeats her plan to us. She was going to "pull out [Simon's] testicles." Her head is tilted downward to look at Ryan's waist, as if she doesn't want to go home empty-handed after coming up with such a brilliant plan. Ryan says he likes Mom's style. No, she said pull out Simon's testicles, not…you know what? Never mind. She repeats it several times to make sure we all understand. We get it. Testicles. You like ripping out testicles. Okay.
They use the idea of a guy losing his testicles as a segue to Anthony. Now that I think about it, that's, like, the coolest segue ever. I can't imagine any other context where lost testicles could be used as a transitional device, except perhaps on Oz. The reason that this works is because Anthony is a tall boy with a really, really high-pitched voice. It all sounds totally fake. Like he's trying do an impression of an elderly lady. Ryan makes small talk with Anthony so that we can all absorb his totally fake high-pitched voice. He sounds like Nathan Lane impersonating Barbara Bush.
Do you need me to tell you that Anthony can't sing? After describing his voice, I shouldn't need to. He butchers "Crazy." It's one of those "speechless" moments from the judges, which Anthony thinks is good. Then Simon pulls that trick where he gives a complimentary term, and then modifies it so that it's bad. In this case, he declares Anthony "amazing. Amazingly dreadful." Simon says he doesn't think anybody else could ever sing like Anthony. Actually, most guys could if they just practiced their fake girly voice. Anthony still pretends that he's been complimented as he leaves. But in the [product-placed car] confessional, he high-pitchedly whines that he should have told Simon to kiss his bleep. Out in the hall, Ryan mimics Anthony's voice perfectly. See? All guys can do that. That's why I think Anthony was fake and did it because he knew he'd get on television.
Commercials. We return to a montage of women rehearsing in the bathrooms. Then we cut to the very unfortunately named Carrie Hunt, 18, who is auditioning with "God Bless America." Man, I can just imagine the nasty rhymes the boys made up about her on the elementary school playground. She has a really strong voice, though perhaps it's a little too loud at points. The judges all love her, though. Whoa, Paula makes a cogent observation that Carrie's voice goes all vibrato when she gets too loud. Just as with Heidi last episode, Simon makes a creepy observation that Carrie is 18 as he compliments her. What does that have to do with anything? Anyway, she's invited to Hollywood.
But patriotic songs won't work for everybody. up is Daniel Anderson, and his big gray headband, who not only sings through his sinuses but can't remember the lyrics to our national anthem. "Oh say does that star banner rocket red glare"? Does the flag glare? Is that what he's asking? Perhaps at Saddam, it does. He comes to a merciful end eventually, and in the ensuing silence, declares, "Play ball!" and mimes hitting a pitch. Simon combines both the compliment fake-out and the declaration of worst singer as he lets Daniel down. Out in the hall, Daniel insists to Ryan that he just had a bad day and his throat was dry and Simon was a bleep. He's a great big bleep.
up is Joshua Gracin, 20, who marches in to audition. And I mean that verb literally. Joshua is a Marine, and that means he has to do everything like he's actually on duty, even though he's dressed in jeans and a shirt. Because you gotta have a gimmick. He marches in, gives a sharp left face, and salutes the judges. Isn't it against regulations to salute non-officers? He introduces himself as a Marine. Simon salutes him right back and introduces himself as "RAF" (Royal Air Force). I don't know whether or not that's actually true, and I can't be bothered to research. Three and a half hours of American Idol, people. I'm actually glad there's no "plot" or anything. Anyway, Joshua tells Simon that they could use somebody like him in boot camp. That was a come-on. He just flirted with Simon. He totally did. In military-themed gay porn, Simon would follow that line up with, "And what exactly would I do to you recruits?" And Joshua would respond, "You would keep us in line, sir!" And Simon would say, "And how would I keep these men in line, Marine?" And then, bam-chicka-wow-wow.
Joshua's audition choice is O-Town's "All or Nothing," and the tiny sliver that represents all that is left of Joshua's heterosexuality is promptly given a blanket party. His voice is actually pretty good, though, with a recognizable country twang. The judges like it, and invite him on to Hollywood. I wonder if he'll be like that country singer from last season whom they invited to the round, and then we never heard him ever again. Outside, Joshua calls somebody named Anne Marie, and I start to worry that my gaydar's totally off and a bunch of Marines are going to show up at my apartment to give me a blanket party of my own. But no, Anne Marie is his little sister. Gay.
up is Alyson Roberts, 20, with her exposed torso and her miniskirt. She insists on high-fiving all the judges. She jokes that it's part of her OCD. Though I wouldn't necessarily discount the possibility that she wasn't kidding. She sings "I'll Take You There." Except she stupidly picks a part of the song that really doesn't have a lot of lyrics. Just a lot of "no, no, no"s. She manages to sing for several seconds without spitting out an actual line of lyrics. The judges stop her, wondering what the hell she's doing. She begs them to give her another chance to sing a song with lyrics. They allow it. She sings a song unfamiliar to me. She's okay. Nothing special. She seems totally incapable of maintaining a consistent speed. After she's done Paula said she was hoping that Alyson would give a better audition. They must have been schmoozing together before the auditions or something. Paula thinks Alyson's nerves got to her. Alyson begs for a third chance. Simon says he doesn't know what happened with the whole "I'll Take You There" thing, but he does think that Alyson has a nice voice. Randy calls for the question. Simon votes yes. Paula votes no. Randy says he's going to vote no, but then starts talking about all the things he likes about Alyson. Alyson begs for a fourth chance. Paula points out that she's been given several chances already. Randy says she didn't sing any of the melodies properly. Alyson begs for yet another shot and promises to "give it to [Randy]." She repeats "I'll give it to you" over and over again until it starts taking on that other meaning. Ew. Randy and Paula dismiss her. Alyson starts to walk away, but stops to beg for a three hundredth chance. Then she starts singing again. Jeez. At least she's singing the actual lyrics this time. Simon declares that she should deserve a second chance. Paula points out that this is, like, her fifth. Randy finally gets her to stop. I just realized that we can see an inch of Alyson's black panties above the ripped hem of her skirt. Classy. Randy hems and haws about his vote. Paula encourages Alyson to come up and kiss Simon for supporting her. She runs up and kisses him on the cheek. Then she rushes over and kisses Randy on the cheek. Then she kisses Paula on the cheek. Paula jokes that she's on the fence now. FOX, meanwhile, is pondering Lesbian by America, where the voters decide which sexy Playboy models make out with each other on television. Finally, Randy relents and allows Alyson to come to Hollywood. She hoots and hollers and runs out into the hallway to brag about getting a second chance. And if she has to put out for a third, I wouldn't be surprised.
More bad auditions. More people forget their lyrics. There's Mulan girl, consulting her note cards before she sings. There's…Tara Lipinski? It looks like her. Don't give up the skating, sweetie.
Commercials. When we return, we get a clip of guys practicing in the bathroom, including one guy singing while using the urinal. Ew. And speaking of "ew," that creepy asshole of a bad auditioner from last year with the creepy tight curls is back, and he brought his "twin" brother, who looks just like him, except six inches shorter. Clearly the Raelians have been acting in secret for years. It's the only plausible explanation. Actually, they must be fraternal twins who are just trying to look identical. They claim they've been working with a vocal coach for the last year. But Asshole Perm-Boy insisted last year that he knew he was an excellent singer. What does he need a vocal coach for?
So are Brandon and Bryan Forrest better singers this year? No. They just generally suck in a non-specific, non-entertaining fashion. Simon tells them they're not cut out to be singers. They say that "that's [Simon's] naïve opinion." They repeat "naïve" several times. So they're not cut out to be English teachers either. Somebody probably insulted them once by calling them "naïve," and they were just itching to project the insult onto somebody else. Simon laughs at the twin idiots. He says, "You know what's naïve? Your dreams of success." Burn! A good one, finally. It couldn't happen to a more deserving couple of contestants. Randy agrees with Simon. As does Paula. Brandon and Bryan respond that they're just three people in the whole world. Simon says that the entire music industry is "naively" not seeing their talent. Randy points out that they weren't on key. The boys are all, "Did you write the song? Did you pick the key?" Randy looks them all, "Dudes? Did you pick a key?" Randy asks them if they want to sing one of the many songs that he has indeed produced. They say that they don't care for any of the songs Randy produced. Simon tells them to stop spending money on singing lessons and go buy a "realistic attitude." And do something about that hair. Damn. In the [product-placed car] confessional, Brandon and Bryan delusionally claim to have come out on top, and warn us that this isn't the last time we'll see them. I'm sure they we'll see them on the news when authorities finally raid the Raelian compound and arrest everybody.
up is Marie Lingbanan, 18, who is way, way excited and tells the judges that they can say nasty things about her and she'll still love them. She sings "I Need You" by Leann Rimes. She shouts the song. If the judges' faces are any indication, she was really loud. Simon stops her. She repeats the part again that they can say awful things, and she'll still be happy. Simon tells her she was dreadful. Randy says she sounded like she was in pain while she was singing. She's not invited to Hollywood. As she heads back out, she happily insists to the judges that she loves them.
Cut to the [product-placed confessional], where Marie gets all up in the camera and declares, "Bleep that bleep!" Of course, we only witness those three words, so she could have said, "I know some people come in here and say nasty things about the judges, but bleep that bleep!"
up is a guy with the unlikely name of Charm. Ryan warily approaches the guy in the audition room, drawn by the amazing color test pattern that is Charm's hair. There's yellow and red in his hair and goatee. He says the color represents his perseverance and dedication to doing whatever it takes to get on camera. He actually says "love of music," but we all know why he really does it. Because it couldn't possibly be a "love of music." Nobody who loves music would treat it so badly. He wails and shrieks "The Greatest Love of All." Music runs away and seeks refuge at a shelter for domestic violence victims. Music gets counseling for a couple of weeks and a part-time job as a secretary at a dentist's office. Charm comes crawling back, promising that he's changed and swears that he won't abuse Music anymore, but Music knows better. Everybody tells him he's awful. Simon makes a comparison to Linda Blair singing while she's possessed in The Exorcist. In the confessional, Charm whines that Simon and Randy were mean. He's going to blame the rejection all on Music later and use it as an excuse to abuse it some more: "Bitch! What did I tell you about making me look bad?"
up is Dino Yazzie, 21, who abuses Music some more with an even worse version of "The Greatest Love of All." When is Music going to listen to its friends and get that restraining order? Dino's got this creepy, nasal, out-of-tune tenor. Randy is trying to keep from laughing. Dino sings, "No matter what they take from me, they can't take away my dignity." Why should they bother, when you're giving it away for free? When he stops, the judges try the shocked silence bit. Unfortunately, this gives Dino the incorrect assumption that they want him to keep singing, so he starts back up. And he's even worse. He's gotta know. He has to, doesn't he? It's taking every ounce of effort for Paula and Randy not to laugh while he's singing. Paula has to turn her face away. When he finally stops beating Music into submission, Randy says he sounds like a sheep trying to sing. Then they invite him to Hollywood. Kidding.
Commercials. Am I supposed to buy [product-placed cola] because it made Penelope Cruz burp? Come back when it can make her act.
When we return, we meet Melody Lewis, 21, who has dressed up like Dorothy in the porn parody of The Wizard Of Oz. Her blue and white outfit shows plenty of skin and chest, and her ruby slippers have heels. She sings "Somewhere Over The Rainbow," of course. She's okay. She's singing somebody's cover of the song, and I don't really like this rendition. When she's done, Randy tells her she has a nice voice, but doesn't need the outfit. Everybody agrees. Randy makes her click her heels together three times if she really wants to go. That would be clever, except that Dorothy clicked her heels together in order to get sent home. You need a bad contestant for that one.
up is Tarzan Boy. Ryan introduces us to a guy with nearly waist-length hair. Ryan inaccurately refers to it as a mullet. Because references to mullets are funny, I think people like to describe any ugly hairstyle where a man's hair is too long as a mullet. The guy says he just wanted to look "different." His name is Lee Dominguez, 22, and he auditions with "Lately." He warbles every single note. Paula likes his voice, but not his look. Simon doesn't like it either. Randy decides to let him on to Hollywood. Heh. I think Lee was supposed to be one of the joke auditions, but they let him through. He's this season's Elias.
Another string of bad auditions. More insults from Simon. Some guy mumbles a song in a monotone. Simon asks him if he could actually sing something. He mumbles some more of the song in a monotone. The judges sarcastically comment that he sounded much better. Some guy dressed like a genie does another high-pitched singing thing. Why did Anthony get more airtime than this guy? Not only is he doing the fake voice, he's dressed funny.
up is J.D. Adams, 20, whom I predict right now is going to end up in the final thirty-two and is probably going to torment me with polarized comments on the forums. He's a handsome boy with shiny teeth and nice arms. His curly hair has a bit too much gel in it. And I predict that he's going to be partially bald by the time he hits 30. He also alleges that he's a descendent of our second and sixth presidents, John and John Quincy Adams. He sings "Lately." He has a strong voice, but it doesn't flow all that well to me. And he doesn't know what to do with his arms. The one thing he does have going for him (besides being pretty) is that he can hold a note solidly without warbling up and down the whole scale. When he's done, Simon turns to the heavens and thanks God for a good male singer. Paula does the same, thanking God for a good male singer she can drool over. J.D. mimics thanking God, too, for getting good genes and for being born into what is probably a filthy rich family. He's invited to Hollywood.
In the end, the judges invited forty-four from Pasadena to pop a few miles over to Hollywood for the round. Assuming, of course, that the round is actually in Hollywood and not in Pasadena like it was last year. In which case, forty-four were invited to stay. Or something. up: Detroit.
Commercials. FOX is filling its schedule up with "encores" of all its reality shows. I can actually hear the Firefly fans seething.
Apparently, there's some law that you aren't allowed to mention Detroit unless you mention Motown in the same sentence. Ryan returns to blather on and on about all the music that was produced in Detroit so very long ago. Well, not that long ago. Ryan tells us that it should be a "cinch" to find an American Idol here, so that we can have an ironic segue to a bad audition. Whatever. We get clips of the kids in line, sleeping out in twenty-five-degree weather. Those Pasadena kids were pussies by comparison. We meet Bill, who is the first boi in line. He hangs out with his straight-girl sidekick and tells us that he was there for ten hours before other contestants showed up.
Bill heads in to audition with "Never Gonna Let You Go" by Sergio Mendez. He's breathy and boring and has absolutely no soul. Paula reads some bio information that says that Bill wants to be on Broadway. She suggests he head in that direction. Broadway responds, "Listen, has-been, just because a boy's a big queen and wants to sing doesn't mean that we want to have anything to do with him! And take off that ridiculous necklace. I've seen better costume jewelry in a dinner-theater production ofThe King and I." Simon doesn't think Bill's good enough to be in a Broadway show. Randy and Simon both describe the performance as "unemotional." The judges pass on Bill. In the confessional, Bill turns his ass to the camera and invites Simon to kiss it. Then he smacks his own ass, several times, rather hard. He's really laying into it. I'm not sure it's kissing that Bill's into.
up is Antoine Flowe, 21, a lifeguard who is there to sing "Think," by Aretha Franklin. His performance is hard to describe. He pretty much speaks instead of singing. And even then, you can't understand what he's saying. And he blinks his eyes a lot, looks upwards, and holds his hands out a lot. He looks like somebody standing outside, discovering that it has just started to rain. Simon tells him that if he's as good a lifeguard as he is a singer, people will drown to death.
Another girl sings like a munchkin. Some kids pray outside for divine assistance. God sees all the exposed torsos and thinks that they should all be grateful that He's not paying attention. Then we meet Dennis Council, 24, a former male stripper who is sitting in the waiting area reading the Bible. There must be a verse in there somewhere that condemns Dennis's outfit, which consists of black leather pants, a black frilly pirate shirt, a fluorescent green vest that looks like a lifejacket, and a matching headband. How am I supposed to believe in a kind and benevolent God when He allows people to dress themselves like this?
Dennis heads into the audition and explains his whole former life as a stripper. He performed under the stage name of "Devoe from 12:45." He even had "Devoe" and "12:45" tattooed on his stomach. Wait, I get the "Devoe," but "12:45"? The hell? Was that the time he performed? Did he actually tattoo the time he performed on his own stomach? That's some crazy shit. Anyway, his singing is awful, of course. Simon slams him, telling him he'll never succeed in the music business because he doesn't have talent, and that he'll never be "a role model" dressed the way he is. Because if there's one thing you can certain of when it comes to pop stars, it's that they would never dress so outlandishly. Randy says Dennis should be a singing stripper. Out in the hall, Dennis insists to Ryan that the judges were "intimidated" by him. Some large woman holding glamour shots of Dennis (he's got an agent?) stands nearby, nodding her approval. He's of the "they're just jealous" camp. He gloms onto Randy's weight, and he and his agent snidely comment that all Randy could do is "sit up and eat." Yeah, okay, Agent Lady. That's like the whale calling the elephant "fat." He continues that Simon's only talent is telling people they have no talent. Then he strides off, holding his Bible. God sighs and watches some angels dance on the head of a pin in order to cheer himself up.
up is Kewanna Niblett, 17. No, really. That's her name. It's right there on the screen. She's wearing a macramé pantsuit. No, really. Kewanna makes the same mistake as Alyson by picking a song that has three whole words and a lot of wailing and hollering. And just as with Alyson, they're on the fence about Kewanna. But eventually they decide to invite her to Hollywood. No begging or kissing this time. She runs out and calls her grandma to tell her, but apparently she gets hung up on. Maybe all your screaming caused her to fall over and break her hip? I hope you're proud of yourself, missy!
We get more bad auditions of people whose singing is utterly undecipherable. This one guy sounds like he's singing in Anne Heche's made-up language or something. We're promised that we'll actually hear more good singing after commercials.
So now Pizza Hut has cheese on the pizza, in the crust, and on top of the crust. I'm waiting for them to figure out a way to make the crust entirely out of cheese and just get it over with.
We return to see Kristin chasing after some girl who runs into the bathroom to throw up on the sink. Because she cares. And also so we can get it on camera. The girl's name is Teya Blackmon, 23, and she's wearing a fur cap. After she cleans herself up, she chats with Ryan, because apparently Kristin isn't allowed to do actual interviews or anything. Teya looks and sort of talks like Macy Gray. She's nervous, but she's okay now. She says she's going to make Simon love her. So we all know she's doomed. Doomed!
Teya brings a chair with her into the audition. Doomed! She sings awfully (of course) and starts miming along literally with the lyrics. Doomed! So very doomed. She's singing to the floor. She's declaring her love to the floor. I don't think she's singing an actual song. She starts taking off her overcoat. Maybe she's doing a stripper thing? That's the only way I see that chair working. Then she starts singing to the chair. She tells the chair that it's her fire. She can't deny that the chair is her fire. Paula goes first when Teya's done, and once again, she's all knowledgeable and articulate. It's like she's been taking elocution classes. They should have sent Joe Millionaire to whomever Paula went to. She tells Teya that she didn't make eye contact or "engage" with the judges at all during the performance, and her little skit came off as "wacky" to them. Randy tells her that she wasn't in tune at all during the "song." Teya starts crying. She says that normally she sings better than this, "but it's cool." She says she guesses she just wasn't meant to be the American Idol. She considers that perhaps she's meant to take care of her children. Yes, I would cast my vote in the direction of caring for the helpless beings that depend on her. As she carries her prop out, Simon snarks, "The chair, on the other hand, showed potential." Well, Teya did sing that the chair was her fire. Teya cries her way onto the elevator and tells us, "This is the real world," which is another reality show that probably rejected her.
up is Candice Coleman, 22, who sings "At Last." The real version, not whatever awful cover that Christina Christian bleated. She's also wearing a tan newsboy cap and sleeves that don't connect to her shirt. She has a really nice, deep voice and the judges love her. She's invited to Hollywood.
After that is Demian's NAMBLA boyfriend, Michael Craig, 16. He looks at least 25. He's got a five o' clock shadow, for heaven's sake! He's a Beverly Hills teenager, if you know what I mean. Out in the hall, Kristin asks him who his favorite contestant was from the first season. He totally disses her and picks Kelly (Eeeeeeee!). Bwa ha ha! Kristin starts whining that he didn't pick her. She's just angling for a hug from the man-teen, which she gets.
In the auditions, he sings "What's Going On?" He knows all about the peace and civil rights movements from the sixties. Because he was there. He has a pretty good voice and a lot of range, but he doesn't overplay it like E-Jay did. Paula loves his voice and points out that Michael looks and sounds a lot older than 16. They all say yes to Hollywood, even though Simon makes a point of saying that he doesn't like Michael's "Stand and Deliver" style of singing. Funny -- it didn't bother him when Christina did it. Ryan narrates, "At last, a decent man." Should I go with how that makes Ryan sound gay, or should I go with him calling Michael a man? Never mind. Michael heads off to catch the last half of happy hour at the hotel bar.
up is Karissia Miccia, 22. Out in the chairs, she tells Ryan that her family doesn't support her singing her career and told her they hope she doesn't get picked. They sound cruel until we see her performance, and then it's clear they were just trying to keep her from embarrassing herself. First of all, she's wearing white eye shadow, which makes her look like a zombie from a distance, and her singing is just all over the place. Except for the place where it would sound good. The judges decide that Karissia isn't a congenitally bad singer, like some of the other bad contestants. They think she has a good voice, but needs training. Even Simon agrees. Nevertheless, no Hollywood for Karissia. Out in the hall, Ryan tells us that Karissia is afraid to go home and deal with her family. She blathers on about how her mom doesn't want her to be a singer and yadda yadda yadda. We're never seeing you again and we don't care.
More bad auditions. Some guy impersonates Jim Carrey singing "Last Dance." Some guy with David Boreanaz's hair and a shiny, shiny face tries to serenade Paula. Some girl with ginormous candy-wax lips forgets the words and spits out "shit" in the middle of butchering "Sweet Love." Simon agrees with her assessment.
Commercials. I should be horrified that a movie about an evil tooth fairy is currently number one at the box office, but it knocked off Kangaroo Jack, so I'm not sure how I feel.
When we return, Ryan mugs for the camera on some bad street with steam coming out manholes. The Detroit Chamber of Commerce votes to approve a resolution condemning the show. Ryan segues to more bad auditions. Randy rants about Detroit's Motown history to some skinny white girl who couldn't possibly know, understand, or care. Some girl says she heard that they think the singers in Detroit are bad, so she's going to focus on dancing around while singing Christina Aguilera. A girl does the chicken dance. Some guy tries to do the entire dance routine that goes along with "Tearing Up My Heart," and manages to suck in both respects. Simon tells the guy that his hair, which sticks up in wild, untamed spikes, was the best part of his audition. It is cool hair. Paula says he was good from the waist down. Paula, you dirty, dirty girl!
And we have Minaux Le Roi, 20, who is French, yet is somehow made up like an actor in Disney's Aladdin Live Stage Revue. So, of course, he's an Elvis impersonator. That naturally follows, doesn't it? He comes in to sing "Love Me Tender." He still has his French accent. In his version, the lyrics go, "Love me tender, love me long." If this doesn't work out, he can sing the jingle for Trojans. It would be better than that annoying "Trojan Man!" crap. The best part is the confused arm gestures. At one point he gives a dismissive wave: Love me tender. Or not. Whatever. After he's done, Simon mentions that Minaux was fired from his job at a store for singing. Minaux agrees that he was. Simon snarks that he's going to open an account there. Minaux claims he has a little bit of a cold. Yes, that was it. It was the cold.
Ryan voices over about them still not finding enough talent as we see shots of contestants napping while they wait. Ryan walks over to some guy who pretends to be sleeping. Ryan pretends to wake him up and tells him it's his turn to audition. The guy pretends to be all groggy and not know where he is. Ryan pretends to trick him that he's auditioning for Survivor. Shack pretends to hurl the Stonecutter Homer figurine that Strega gave him in Las Vegas at the television. Except for the "pretending" part. Then the guy goes in to audition, and has an awful breathy voice, and poses like an angry pro wrestler while he's singing. No Hollywood for him. Ryan should have tried to trick him into eating gross stuff.
Commercials. We return to meet Foxy Boxing champion Lady Tiger, who obligingly jabs at the camera, then peels down one of her boots to show us the tiger tattooed on her leg, visible through her fishnet stockings. Actually, there's hardly any net to the stockings at all. They're dolphin-safe fishnet stockings. She has her cute little boy with him, and explains to Ryan how she fights and works as a waitress to raise her son alone. Lady Tiger says everything like she's a really bad Saturday Night Live host reading directly off the cue cards. She tells Kristin that she's won forty-five fights. But she thinks she can sing better than she boxes.
But she can't. Which is kind of sad, really. The way the show's been working, having her give us this whole sob story is supposed to make us think she can. But she can't. Her real name, incidentally, is Nicole Porcaro, 23. She sings and dances awfully to "Finally." Paula has a diplomatic smile plastered to her face, but Lady Tiger is just awful. When she's done, Simon tells her she didn't make the grade. She seems okay, but when Simon says she wasn't good enough, puts her hands on her hips and spits out the line of the initial rounds: "I beg to diffa!" Simon volleys back, "Well diffa." Awkward pause. There is no comeback for that, is there? Finally, Nicole says, "I do diffa." Yes, you sure do. She says that she has a great voice, but she had to sleep on the cold street. Which, of course, is different from everybody else how? And did she make her kid sleep on the street? I hope not, but who exactly is going to tell the boxing champ that she shouldn't do that? Anyway, the judges all pass on Lady Tiger.
Out in the hall, Lady Tiger babbles on for forever about how the judges didn't see something hot right in front of them and how we'll all see her album someday. And we'll buy it too, if we don't want a tiger tattoo up our asses. She starts babbling on about some competing boxer and uses her screen time to toss down on this bitch. Or something. Did I phrase that right? Ryan asks what happened to the boy's daddy. Lady Tiger explains that Daddy was a corrections officer who was murdered in 1997. Wouldn't Nicole have been 17 then? I suppose I shouldn't dwell on that too much, because she's probably lying about her age anyway. And gee, didn't it just get heavy in here? She talks about how the guy was her soulmate and now he's gone and she goes on and on and when did this become that scene in Six Feet Under they have every episode with the friends and family of the dead guy of the week? After making mockeries of all these contestants, it's almost like the show is pointing the finger at us and accusing us of being the ones responsible for destroying people's dreams. The camera continues to roll on Lady Tiger as she starts to cry and tells us that "you ain't goin' nowheah in Detroit," as her little boy smiles and points at the boom mike. She gives this incoherent soliloquy directly out of Scenes That Could Have Been In Tennessee Williams Plays But Aren't about not getting an education and never being good enough. Then she sweeps her son up in her arms and tells us that she's got dreams, and she's a Christian, and she's gonna follow those dreams. The cameraman follows her briefly as she and her son head off down the street to make the auditions of Tiger on a Hot Tin Roof.
But enough awkward feelings of guilt and melancholy! They picked twenty-two people in Detroit. In the episode, we head out to Atlanta and Nashville. And that's where we meet Keith. I can't wait. I'm totally giving him the (Eeeeeee!).