Jacob: "On the cover of Time magazine are those eyeballs from Cats, but it looks like people in there. Is that from the actual poster or did Time magazine make up those people in the eyeball?"
Will: "Don't go see Cats."
Sometimes when Brian is out of town, or pretending to have the Ebola virus because he hates musicals, Will gives me Brian's ticket to things, theatrical things. He took me to Phantom Of The Thing and we sat right up front so you could see all the gears and set parts moving around, and that was awesome. He's so great to do that stuff with because he knows everything in the universe and he'll just lean over and quietly deliver these amazing blasts of info that I desperately want to know, like, "See that purple thing on the left? Three songs from now, it's going to burst into flame. At the same time, that staircase is going to be pulled up into the sky by a complicated system of pulleys and things, and be replaced by a giant cloud. Then a boat is going to come out of there with a bunch of rats on it. They will not be real rats, but gay dudes dressed up as rats. And if you look to the extreme left you can see part of the boat in that mirror from Act II. If we were in London right now, you couldn't see that corner of the boat in the mirror, because the Bideawee Royal Theatre has one meter more width in that part of the stage, which is called 'the aftcastle.' Do you remember when we saw that thing with the scary clowns and the made-up language? They kept the Chinese acrobats in the aftcastle. The aftcastle is bad luck because the woman that Patti Lupone replaced in The Undertaker's Garden was stabbed to death in the aftcastle, so now whenever you walk through there, you have to hold your breath and think about that Shaker song "'Tis The Gift" the whole time. Do you know that song? Good, it could be important if you are ever in the aftcastle. Repeat after me: 'aftcastle.'"
Syesha blows ALW's mind for some reason -- and agrees with him how "interesting" her choice is, which is just so Syesha -- and tells us confidentially that she's excited about this because she would like for us to know she has a personality. Girl, we know you have a personality, we just don't like it. You have picked the wrong hateration for this dancery. ALW says she's a weirdo and that it's a fun ride. "One Rock & Roll Too Many" is the name of the song, and I do not know it. But I will tell you this: Syesha looks amazing, as usual, and sounds amazing, as usual. What is not usual is how engaging and likeable she is. Writhing about, acting sexy-fresh, vamping around in her red dress, going sadly flat for entire lines, crawling around on all the bandmembers in a cute way. Her voice goes weak in some unnecessary places, but altogether the performance is pretty adorable and fun. I guess...
You know what, I don't think anybody would be surprised to find out that Broadway Diva X was a bitch. Whoever it is, possibly excepting Bernadette Peters who seems nice, you wouldn't be shocked. Theatre people are nuts, musical people are aliens, and although it's not necessarily true it wouldn't be freaky if it were true. So if you remove that from the equation, let's see what Syesha can do. You know what I mean? If I weren't so sure she was going to steal my table or step on my kid's toe for fun, I wouldn't find her so yucky in the first place. But since that's very Broadway of her to do, it doesn't matter. So it's okay to think that this was, for what it was, the best of all possible things.
Will says: "One Rock & Roll Too Many" is from Starlight Express, a musical about trains. Really. Trains that fall in love and stuff. [I was amazed to learn this fact.] She fucked up the beginning. This song was written as an Elvis pastiche. Syesha makes it a boring ass song about smoking pot. I wish she was dressed as a train. 'Cause she is a wreck. Did you know Clay Aiken is in Spamalot right now? [I did, but I still don't know what that actually means.] He's supposed to be good, too.
Randy basically says that, but takes even longer, focusing on how surprising it is that Syesha could ever, ever be likeable. He expects Syesha to be shocked that he liked it. Syesha will never be surprised by praise. Paula points out that it's not surprising that it's her favorite genre, because it is her "love." I don't know whether that is a noun or subject or direct object or what. Simon says it was sexy like Baker Boys, and one of his favorites. "You showed masses of personality that we haven't seen before," he says, and they go back to how she's more comfortable this way. She also points out that Ricky the conductor was dancing sexy as well, which was weird enough that I didn't want to mention it, and Ryan compares him to a Pussycat Doll. Whatever. Ryan hugs her and is very proud of her.
And now the bullllllllshit, with Jason Castro singing "Memory." And you know what, it makes total sense. His whole thing is to take something completely worn out and stupid like "Somewhere Over The Rainbow," pretend he's Jack Johnson, and blow the mind of the genre itself. So if you look at the whole catalog, it was either going to be that song about how you shouldn't cry for despots with their arms in the air, or the song about the homeless old woman cat who -- correct me if I'm wrong -- goes to heaven in a spaceship. Those are the only two choices for Jason. I hope he plays a banjo!
Ryan and Jason discuss his lovely linen suit, and the work of ALW, which Jason is proud to have recognized but...then, I don't know. Jason talk. Even Ryan is annoyed by Jason's inability to have a damn conversation. ALW is like, "A man! With dreadlocks! Singing my shitty song!" Then he explains the song to Jason using the word "glamourpuss," okay, and Jason laughs just between us that he didn't know it was a cat singing it. Which, why would you know that? Why would you just guess, from looking at the song, that it was about an old lady cat on a spaceship? I ask ya. Jason and ALW agree that he's going to fuck this up masterfully, although ALW admits that it's possible for Jason -- by ignoring everything the old creep says -- might actually be awesome on it. I already hate it, so I'm willing to sit back at this point. I'm kind of warming to old ALW, though. He seems clever.
So: "Memory." This is like...a violation of a violation. You know I like TS Eliot, right? I mean, even if you didn't know that, you could probably guess, because of the particular kind of jerk I happen to be. Love him. My dream is to recap The Wasteland like it's a TV show. It would be one million pages long. But so I hate "Memory" for many reasons, and now this is Jason attempting to sing the song while embodying the spirit of a homeless person who is a cat who wins the space lottery. And since it is Jason, this involves sounding like he's been stabbed in the abdomen, because that's always how he sings.
What I didn't expect is that it would be so effing boring. I can't even summon up anything to say. Randy calls it a "trainwreck" right out the gate, but for the wrong reasons: he says it's a weird song for Jason. Which is the point of Jason. So whatever. Paula points out that this is a diva song we've all heard a billion times, but still thinks it was a good choice. I don't disagree, because it's the same thing he does every week, to the point that I don't really care what he does after this, because every song he will ever sing will sound like what he's already sung. Then Randy randomly says how beautiful Jason is. Simon thinks Jason can agree that this was the longest two minutes of the universe. He compares it to a kid being forced to sing at a wedding, and says we are all equally miserable while he was singing. Jason's completely confused by all of this, firstly because he's Jason and is always completely confused, and secondly because he did the same thing the last ten weeks in a row. Ryan calls Simon "our resident glamourpuss" and asks how we can possibly reconcile today's Jason with the identical Jason of days past. Simon says he doesn't give a fuck who people vote for, so get out of his aftcastle, and then Jason once again irritatingly repeats "this is American Idol" along with Ryan, just like he always does. Whoever told him that was cute, I will hit him or her.
Ryan's with a total GILF in the audience talking about who knows what, and then it's time for Brooke to meet ALW. I have such a sense of foreboding whenever Brooke comes onscreen now, I imagine something akin to living on the San Andreas Fault. "Is this it? Is this the big one? Are we all going down?"
And yeah, she nearly cries just from being on the stage with ALW, and he tells us she doesn't get the song at all, and then ALW tells Brooke who Eva Peron was, and what "You Must Love Me" is all about, and then she throws all that nervous crazy-person energy into the song, and he's amazed and calls her a "natural actress." No arguments from me. With the amount of crazy going on inside Brooke these days, you could power the sun. Still, I like how that little video package had its own arc, like she wasn't getting it, and then ALW held hands with her, and they came to an understanding, and he loved her like you must, and now she's going to no doubt embarrass herself.
Also, I do not know this song, but I do love Brooke. [Will: "OMG, you just fucked up. That was a good move because it fits the song and makes me feel sorry for you. You fucked up on purpose."] Right out the gate, though, you can tell she's crazy just by the faces she's making...and then she fucks up and apologizes to the band, and they start over! Again but with the whole band! I don't like that. So then she makes more fucked up faces and looks like she's going to vomit madness and scary all over the place, and I don't care. The verses scrape the bottom of her range a little bit, and I mean, this is a song written for Madonna who has no range, correct? So isn't that kind of embarrassing if you have to start too low? Her face doesn't even look right anymore, it's so clenchy and strange all the time. Also, this song is bullshit. It's got like this lame unoriginal part, and then it's loud and lame, and then quiet again. It's like a whole musical's amount of emotion every five seconds. And then at the end Brooke holds out her hand toward the camera and once again tells us to love her. Guess what, lady.
Randy thinks it wasn't great, and she makes that effin' face, and he congratulates her on listening to ALW and believing what she was singing. Paula pauses a loooong while before telling her that stopping at the beginning was lame, and that she's been good on the show and will be very successful. And she congratulates her -- this I really like -- on not overacting, just being strong Brooke and vulnerable. Simon loved the drama at the beginning, but was made nervous by her continuing freakout for the rest of it. He tells her she's going to be disappointed when she sees it. Yep. Out in the audience Rick Schroeder apparently thinks Deadwood is still on, and he'd love a piece of that action. Simon congratulates her on starting over, calls it brave actually, because what are you supposed to do when you forget the words? Um, remember them. She keeps her trap shut the entire time, I should mention that: she doesn't say a damn word unless directly addressed. They keep chatting about how great she is, except on Tuesdays when it counts, to the point that Ryan's like, "I love her too, but come on." So then he wishes her luck, and up is Archuleta. I didn't even see that shit coming.
Ryan awkwardly brings up some awkward tweens to awkwardly hug David, which is supremely uncomfortable for everybody. But just in case we think that's Ryan's idea, he pats David on the arm as they're going to the ALW video, all, "Yeah, good chat we just had." ALW is again struck by a boy singing a diva song. I mean, has he seen this show? The only thing he really has to say is that David is a sweetheart, and it pisses him off when David closes his eyes when he sings. He then repeats this advice, that David should open his eyes when he sings, about a hundred times.
Then David sings some unholy crap called "Think Of Me," which sounds like Dan Fogelberg and Harry Chapin sodomizing each other in Care-A-Lot, the land where the Care Bears live and do their work measuring and increasing the total amount of caring in the world using the Caring Meter. I don't know where the blame lies, or where the song stops and the Archulepsis starts. I know there is a kind of World Music arrangement with some drums, and some stupid key changes, but that's a six-of-one situation because this song and David are like two sides of the same Care Bear Stare. Eyes open, kid.
Randy calls it "really cool," so we're done with Randy. Paula calls it "absolutely perfect" and a "risk," so we're done with Paula. Simon, baby, come on. Help me out. "Pleasant" but one of his weakest performances. Thank you, Simon. Unmemorable but will get him through to week. Which is what David Archuleta is allllll about. Man, I'm still so mad at that song I can't even think straight. What a fucking liberty. Oh, and now it's Carly coming. I'm betting that, if my theories about Carly are right and she's the kind of dork she seems to be, this is going to blow the roof off the place.
She sings "All I Ask Of You" to ALW, and he immediately stops her and makes her sing "Jesus Christ Superstar." Now we are talking. Carly's like, "That was a good call, Lloyd Webber." He's like, "Come on, sing a song you can sing" and tells her to stop being girly. Which, I mean, if you're ALW, you've had Carlies singing all Broadway at you every second of the day, you're going to get tired. I honestly assumed she was going to sing that song about the girl in the French Revolution who's in love with the guy who's in love with the girl who washes the street or whatever, but ALW didn't write that song, so I can still think I'm right about that one. And ALW would have been just as cheesed off by the Broadway Dreams Of Carly if he had written it, so we end up in the same place either way.