The Very, Very Awesome: Phil's version of "Missing You," (John Waite! Or Tyler Hilton!) was pretty passionate, and strangely resonant. Especially if you didn't look into the depths of his creepiness while he was singing. I can definitely see why they keep putting him first or last: he's a very dramatic performer. He reminds me of the similarly bald man from Iceland (Finland?) on last season of that other show, where they sing songs you've ever heard before. Brandon sang "Time After Time" for his grandma, inducing Simon to his most cynical, wonderful behavior in recent memory: in the space a few seconds he dedicates things to Brandon's grandma, his own grandma, your grandma and puppies. After Phil's dedication of his own performance to the events of 9/11, it was kind of called for.
Bad Surprise 1: Unfortunately, Chris R managed to out-Blake Blake with a great rendition of "Geek In The Pink," by Jason Mraz, which is at least five things I once promised always to hate, starting with Chris R. Blake's "Virtual Insanity" was irritating, although it still involved Blake; he did more of that stuff he does. Also not great: how Sundance did a great job singing "Mustang Sally." This pissed me off for two main reasons: the first is that I miss Judd Harris, and the second is that -- during the performance -- I realized that Sundance combines everything I hate about Bo Bice and Taylor Hicks, which leads inexorably in a mathematical proof ( ([B+T(*r]/h - H, where B = Bo, T = Taylor, h = height, H = facial hair, and r = dumb as hell) to the fact that about four months from now, Sundance Head is going to be your American Idol, and until then he's going to be singing songs like this and "For The Love Of Money" and other non-songs of this nature.
A Nice Surprise & Other Things That Happened: I finally get AJ! His "Feelin' Good" (previously by lots of ladies including Michael Bublé) puts a whole new spin on his diva act. Jared sang "Let's Get It On," Nick sang "Fever," Chris S was nothing special singing a song called "Trouble" about his wildly hot girlfriend, and Sanjaya sang "Steppin' Out With My Baby." Only the last one was memorable, and not in a good way.
Every week the pressure increases, every vote is vital, this time it's personal. Does Ryan even know what he's saying? I think Paula got ahold of the teleprompter and just put in a bunch of nonsense. Then Ryan congratulates "our" Jennifer Hudson, who won an Oscar, and the judges somehow take credit for this Oscar. Then all the men walk onto the balcony past the camera, and Phil still looks like a dead thing, and Sundance still looks like an idiot. Out in Suffragette City, Leslie looks beautiful and doomed. Randy tells the boys that they need to be better than they were last week. Futile. Simon grins as Paula babbles about how they just need to have fun and believe that they are celebrities, even though they are not really, just as she's been doing for decades. Speaking of celebrities, Ryan says, Simon is "huge" and "worldwide," and Simon just giggles and says to leave it at that.
To whom will Phil dedicate his performance of John Waite's "Missing You"? The victims of 9/11, apparently. Also, he's in the military as a singer, which allows him to give what he has to give, for a great cause. Things are cynical and stupid for awhile, above and beyond how stupid this whole "dedication" thing is, with lots of pictures of military dudes and how great they are, and a whole lotta GED talk from Phil and his gross bald self. Luckily, he sings like a bastard, and it's even more fun if you're not looking. If you are looking, I suggest playing a game I call Ugly Phillip, where you replace parts of his face one after another with the powers of your mind until you can stand to look at him. A little hair on top, the semblance of chin, rounding off those V'ger-looking ears, etc. Use your mental agility to do the tricks for Phil that his face doesn't yet know how to do, because he deserves this at least for being so talented. I do love to hear him sing, and he has a lovely smile and a kickin' body, but the rest of it is a mindfuck.
Randy thanks him for putting it on blast; Paula thanks him for his tone and for sounding like the radio; Simon congratulates him on the horrible video and unoriginal voice, and also one really good part where he sang really loud. He's not unique, just very very good in a karaoke way. Ryan wonders about the effect of Phil's likeability, and Simon reassures them both that Phil will be back week. Randy reminds him that he is "hot" and "in the mix." Phil's face does a whole lotta stuff while Ryan talks about telecom mergers that don't matter whatsoever. Jeff Foxworthy is like the Blake Lewis of this episode; he's over in the corner to celebrate white trash stupidity some more, and they keep cutting to him. You know what's hilarious, is the failure of our public school system and the brain-dead machine cogs it turns out, generation after generation! I love to laugh about how grown adults don't know what a "trapezoid" is, don't you? I wish I had my copy of The Bridges Of Madison County with me right now, so I could read it now that I'm done with The DaVinci Code. Let me tell you, that was some high-effort reading. I can't wait for the day I crack a book and realize I can no longer read at all! It's like they're sending you a message begging to you accept and revel in American mediocrity, in all areas of life! Wait, they are!
Speaking of, Sundance tells Ryan in the red room that he has been tasked with becoming less "crappy." AJ hopes that he'll be able to "redeem" himself this week; Jared talks about his suit and how he's channeling Marvin Gaye this week. Mom and Dad are the meaningless recipients of this performance's honors: Mom got him out of the bed and forced him to go to auditions, which he didn't even know about; Dad introduced his son to the concept of music. His parents are very cute and explain his total hotness. What is less explainable is the total lack of hotness in his performance of "Let's Get It On," which is a sexy song in a Paula kind of way where if enough people tell you it's sexy, the power of conventional wisdom is stronger than your cliché resistance. A person with very little cliché resistance is Jared Cotter, who hops around weirdly and sings the song with a maximum of drama and a total lack of emotion. He's like watching one of those little 16 year old perfect angel contestants who don't even know the meaning of the words he's singing, and just does the moves he thinks should work. It's boring and not interesting;, but there are worst things to look at in this world, and that's like all I know how to say about Jared Cotter.
Randy notes that it was "pitchy" and that the weird move where Jared ran has palm down the entirety of his face like a murderer, he calls that "McSteamy." What does that mean in this context? Then Paula about dies about how hot he is and mentions how you don't have to "push" that song -- no pun intended, she says, which is just so gross -- and Simon takes over. Randy and Paula laugh at the idea of Simon understanding the concept of "pushing" or "getting it on" or what "it" is. Simon tells him it was kind of Love Boat, and Jared says it would have been a good episode. And because this show has a vested interest in us getting Pavlovian whenever anybody speaks words at Simon, there's a ten minute celebration of Jared's cheekiness. Pretend to fight authority just like they want you to! It's hilarious, and nobody gets hurt! Straw man arguments to make you feel powerful, while Simon C and TPTB remain in control! Our President is stupid, but now that I've said it I feel satisfied! I'll say it again, Air America: our President is stupid! I feel so much better now, like I've really taken part in the political process. Boo, Simon! Boo! Two Minutes Hate!
Then things get really weird and even faker as Ryan -- again, reading off the teleprompter and not in love with what it's saying -- jokes about "the things we've all done" to that song. Simon calls bullshit, but he's so... It's like the whole of that movie The 40-Year-Old Virgin happening in fast forward, where Ryan pretends to be a non-virgin and Simon gently chides him about this pretense, and then Ryan backtracks super fast and starts with the numbers, and the whole time Jared's standing there with a giant grin and his tail wagging and not a thought in his head.
up is AJ, whose parents are totally supportive of their diva child. There's a great clip of them dancing in the crowd last week. Man, if AJ were my kid I'd totally drive him all over the place and buy his little outfits, whatever. I don't usually like the "I like gay kids" contingent of people because it's a creepy way of sidestepping the issue and turning them into little nonthreatening babies, but on the other hand he's very likeable, and on the most important hand, even AJ's sexlessness is like getting frisked in a Tom of Finland nightmare compared to Sanjaya's utter ineffectuality. So he sings "Feeling Good" in a divalicious, awesomely gay freakout, and his voice sounds awesome, and the crowd is like, "That was good, undeniably, but...I have questions?"
Randy congratulates him with some mixed-message praise; Paula loves the voice and the band -- which was awesome -- and loves how he's expanding; Simon tries to put things delicately. "That was actually nearly good," he says, and calls out the tuning problems in the middle, but notes that we've now seen his personality. "You looked strangely comfortable doing that," Simon says, confusing Paula, and then begs Ryan not to bother him about the obvious gay thing that just happened when he said that. As Ryan does the numbers, you can hear Simon go, "He knows exactly what I'm talking about." And I think he does, but mostly I think he'd better. There's a thin line between the kind of gayness that sells and the kind of gayness that is scary.
Sanjaya, who talks and when he talks I can't really pay attention, wears his grandfather's wedding ring for some reason, and for him will be performing "Stepping Out With My Baby." The performance is nervous and stultifying, even given his sweet voice, but he's dressed like an idiot, like I can't even...there's a giant medallion, and a stupid hat, and a horrible ponytail with frizzies all over. He's not awful, he's just that Anwar kind of boring. Like, imagine Anwar, but less...edgy. Okay? Isn't that kind of terrifying? There's no there, there. He smiles weirdly all the way through, like a nervous kid, which is what he is. Randy calls him "weird," and basically cheesy and lame, which is, again, exactly what he is. Paula chatters at length, and finally Simon asks her whether she liked the performance, and she refuses to say so, but wants him to celebrate his youth. I hate his youth, it's offensive. Simon calls it a "ghastly lunch" after which the parents make the children dress up and sing. Which is totally what it was. "Very weak, a little weird, and it made absolutely no impact...I don't get why you did that." Sanjaya babbles about his grandpa, which earns him a random round of applause, and then Ryan asks him to repeat what he just heard. Sanjaya...doesn't know what they are saying, and talks nonsense, and finally Ryan relents and lets him chill.
Chris Sligh dedicates "Trouble," which comes in second in the No I Really Really Love Women Sweepstakes to that Bryan Adams song, to his gorgeous wife. I don't believe that Chris Sligh doesn't like women, but I do think it's a weird song to sing, just like when Taylor sang it. I don't get it. It's like showing us your bald spot. He talks at length about how much he loves her, and he will never let her go, and then sings the song, and it goes like this. "Trouble, trouble, trouble, bmwah-blee since the day I was born, worry, worry, worry, worry shmuah shpedeedle, I have been saved by a woman, I have been saved by a woman, I have been saved by a woman, who will do something, and there are other things she does, which I will now list." It's boring, he's got very little hustle, but he sounds great. I sure do find this song obnoxious. Randy tells him he was good last week, but was good this week too, and to rely on his skills, in case he was thinking of not doing so. Paula likes how he dedicated it to his wife and tells him to watch his pitch and not get ahead of the music. Simon calls him a very good singer and makes Chris's wife laugh about how Chris dedicated a song called "Trouble" to her.
Things again go south: Chris randomly and kind of embarrassingly shoots for sincerity, all, "Well, I've been saved by a woman, so..." okay, which is just strange and that kind of fake romantic on which the song is based, but then things get weirder when Simon goes, "Well, so have I," but I don't think he's being sharp about it, I think he's responding to the weird sincerity with weird sincerity of his own. And all of this would just be kind of like awkward, but then Randy and Paula starting hooting about how gay Simon is, and Simon locks eyes with Ryan as Ryan ascends the stage, and like...it is just so tiring, these two with their hateful weird gay storyline this season. I'm used to it being just me. Ryan and Chris talk about Taylor doing the song, and how he did it differently, and then Ryan pretends he knows what marriage is, more clichés, and then the numbers. Then Ryan says something about "the Benjamins," but I'm not recapping that shit.
Nick dedicates "Fever" to his girlfriend, who he finds to be "fun," and with whom, one might say, he "just clicks," and even though they weren't together on Valentine's Day, now he's going to sing this song, which is like the Ultimate Valentine, a couple weeks late. In the audience, she's bored; on the couch, I am bored. He has a wonderful voice, and there are dimples, and sparkly eyes, but his irises are black like those X-Files kids, which bothers me not in real life but is creepy on TV. Also, this song is boring and played out. If Madonna covered it, we're collectively over it. This is a handy rule of thumb, and I offer it freely to the contestants on this show and all others. He's bland, boring, lovely and can sing wonderfully. But how can you remember him? I can't even remember who I'm talking about.
Randy loved the return to his vibe and smoky thing, Paula loves his wonderful tone and was reminded of one of his 19 auditions on which he spit, and Simon thinks a song that's that played out requires more charisma than Nick brought. Also, he's wearing a suit that is boring, and Ryan asks him to play stylist, and they get gay all over each other, and Randy loves it, and Ryan is so happy about how the dedications to girlfriends and wives mean that they will receive whatever favors or free passes one hopes for as a married man or a man who dates women. Such a huge question mark over that, I don't even know what he's thinking. Like they'll forgive you for macking on dudes, or spending too much on seaweed wraps, or eating all the nachos while watching Oprah. Whatever Ryan is scared of getting in trouble for, that's what they're getting out of. In like every sense.
Blake is dedicating "Virtual Insanity" (I know, I know) to his parents, who are inspiring with their work ethic and talent bequeathal. I find Jamiroquai almost unbearably irritating, so I'm sure that this has an impact on my enjoyment of the performance. However, I have heard the song, and what it sounds like is this. And what the video looks like is this. This is so Chris R., this shit -- Blake, you're meant to be from the future, not from 1996. Also, Blake's ass is magic, and these pants are Muggle pants, and that is frustrating also. He slides around on stage and sings sweetly and awesome, but it's so boring. Randy is convinced nobody in America has ever heard of Jamiroquai, which God how I wish that were true. Paula calls his choices smart, and his stuff unique, and congratulates him on being Blake. Which is deserved. Simon disagrees, saying that while he loves Blake, he found the performance copycat -- it was -- and after a great middle, his last part of the song was out of tune. I don't disagree in that Blake is capable of doing about a thousand times better than this, but is still a thousand times better than everybody else, so what do you do? Ask him to live up to his own standard, or assume that everybody else is sucking enough that he can coast?
Randy yells about Jamiroquai for awhile, and Ryan asks if Paula and Simon are dating all of a sudden, and Simon suggests that perhaps he and Randy are dating, and Paula screams, "Blake! Run for your life!" but instead of doing so, which would have been a good idea, Blake tries to explain the last fifty years of turntablism and production to Ryan, but doesn't have a lot of words at his disposal suddenly, so he calls what he does -- which is mimic the sound of scratching in the middle of his vocals, which is weird and kind of awesome, but very specific and like a parakeet that sounds like a car alarm in effect -- "vocal entendres" with a wrist fluourish, "vocal scratching," "vocal turntablism," and only the last is okay, and then Ryan does some vocal scratching, and Blake does too, and everybody watching turns a little bit more white.
Brandon's wearing pink and chose his song in accordance with his dedication, which is to his grandmother. His face is great to look at, isn't it? Everybody's so short this year, too, it makes me feel like a gigantic giant. You could hug like seven of them at once, or crush them if you were so inclined. Brandon's singing "Time After Time," which with its Nadia connotations should have been the first sign that Leslie was doomed, looking back. It's beautiful. You know that show The Book Of Daniel? I really, really loved that show, and on one of the last episodes, there was the most beautiful vocal arrangement of this song I've ever heard. I'm kind of not impressed by this version, but it's Brandon, and he's got a great voice and wonderful control, so I'm trying to be cool. Randy says it was just okay, and Brandon explains that he was putting his heart in the song and giving it to the judges; Paula agrees: she felt his heart. I think it was great, I don't really know what the problem was. She then goes off the rails about the dedication, and Randy says he likes that part. Simon hates this whole vibe, calling Brandon's excuses and alibis "rubbish," asking instead that Brandon live up to his potential instead of being all "I was feeling this song," and you know, I get it. It's that whole "How Deep Is Your Love" thing again -- if you can blow up all crazy like Sabrina or Melinda, you've taken away everybody's excuses for being low-key.
Brandon mentions that it's his dad's birthday, and Simon gives a shoutout to his mother, whose birthday is in nine months. It's like the coolest thing he's ever done, just with his frustrated hands in the air like, "Oh, it's your dad's birthday? That's fucking awesome, people should vote for that instead of your lame performance! I love puppies! I'm wearing blue jeans today!" Which, seriously. The dedications are obnoxious and cloying, and Phil started things off in such a stupid, ugly way that everything else comes off ever more wrong than it is, which is already powerfully stupid, and for Brandon to stand there and say not only that his lackluster performance is less important than the feelings in his heart, but also that it's his dad's birthday, I mean... Surely Simon can be forgiven for his occasional revulsion when the true nature of this show is revealed. Not only was it deeply satisfying to see Simon make fun of people's stupid grandmothers, about whom we have already heard too much the last three seasons, but also just to point out that every time you do that, or Josh or Sundance has a kid, or somebody shoots his whore wife and then himself through the throat, this show gets a little dumber and a little closer to Montel Williams and a little further from being entertaining. Even though grandmas are nice in theory, and the military is nice very much in theory, and all of these things are heartstring-tugging to one extent or another, they have nothing to do with singing, any more than...pictures of Antonella sucking dick, or rubbing her cooter on our national landmarks, or even just taking a dump, have every bit as much to do with singing as Brandon's stupid grandmother, or Sundance's ugly baby, or 9/11, and this show has always been appalling, but I mean: this is fucking appalling. Pandering like this, for ratings, leads directly to celebration of the worst things we're capable of, and I would hope that a contest such as this show purports itself to be a celebration of the opposite. We knew about McKibbin's daddy issues, but we didn't have to hear about them, and the most we were ever asked to step inside Justin Guarini's life was the contemplation of his hair. It's bullshit, this. Meanwhile, Leslie Hunt has lupus and is in seemingly constant medical danger from a thousand directions, and still triumphs: but all we hear about is crack babies, and dads in jail, and functional illiteracy. It makes them more relatable, I guess, but that doesn't speak better of them: it speaks worse of us.
Chris R. dedicates "Geek In The Pink," by the ambitious and smug Jason Mraz, to his grandmother, and to crystal methamphetamine, and to Accutane. Luckily, he manages to take a pile of things I hate -- Chris R., Jason Mraz, bouncing up and down, FedEx, and the smell of gasoline and Camel Wides -- and turn them into...absolute gold. He's fabulous. The words of this song are so obnoxious ("Well let the geek in the pink take a stab at it/ If you like the way I'm thinkin' baby wink at it/ I may be skinny at times but I'm fat fulla rhymes/ Pass me the mic and I'm a grab at it") and yet they do not matter. I have no idea. I always said that Missy Elliot would have killed for Blake Lewis, but it's only this week that I would switch that to Chris R. He's remarkable. If I didn't feel sucked into his stupid life by the way this show works, I'd say he was one of the best. As it is I'm just waiting to hear about how he was raised by his grandmother until the day that she was shot during a holdup at the Piggly Wiggly, and now he has to raise his thirteen brothers and sisters with only the money he can raise dancing for quarters on the streets of his town, but he's working on learning how to fix air conditioners by mail, or possibly become a paralegal or get his Associate's Degree in business or web design. Just like you and me, one of these days!
Randy calls the boys out on behalf of Chris's amazing performance and says it's better than the original version, which I can only assume is true. Paula asks about how his grandmother would feel about the song, and grandma loves dancing even though she would have liked country. Paula sticks a pink valentine sticker on Simon, calling him the geek in the pink, and Simon calls her worthless before congratulating Chris, rightfully, on the best performance of the night. Chris does a funny little dance and is very likeable for a moment. God, if I have to revise my opinion of these people I don't know what I'll do. This show is not for thinking!
Luckily, Sundance is , and there is absolutely nothing he could do to make me stop hating him. Or apparently to lose. He talks about his son for a million years and doesn't know what he's talking about, and starts to cry. If you think seeing Sundance fucking cry silently for a million years is really really interesting, I've got a show for you, and it is called American Idol. His performance of "Mustang Sally" is full-on Bo Bice/Taylor Hicks pointless, singing a song that will never sound original and singing it in a very unoriginal way, which is what we like best. He sounds good for what it is, which is like if your dad had a band on the weekend, which is what's going on here, which is again what we like best. Of course Paula's shitting it the entire time, because her lack of imagination is matched only by Sundance's own. I don't know what to say about it. It's Sundancy. He Sundances it up all over the place. If you've never had an original thought or heard a song from the last fifty years, it's super fucking exciting, I guess. It's a Hallmark card full of empty sentiment, just like everything this week. He might as well have dedicated it to the Baby Jesus. He thanks America.
Randy licks him up one side and down the other, which is not a lot of real estate but does taste like beef jerky; Paula congratulates his awesome range, which is valid, and says it's the best vocal from him so far, which is also valid. Simon thanks him for not being weird and creepy like he was last week, but points out that he can do better than this. Which he can, but the point is that he doesn't have to. Sundance talks about how he's a mime and stuck in a box, and Ryan loves his dedication, and also says that his son has probably grown old and no longer loves him, and they see a picture of the baby with a stupid goatee, and whatever. Nobody really finds it funny except Sundance, because he is a cretin with hairspray in his gross Tutankhamen beard.
Recap: Phil was amazing and awesome and earned the opening spot. Jared was like a dead person wanting to get "it" on in a world of no sex. AJ was feeling good about going home to Camp True Directions. Sanjaya was stepping out with his complete pile of fake BS. Sligh was saved by a woman for one million boring years and still seemed kind of like he ended up on this show by happy accident. Nick was...oh, there he goes. Don't know. Blake was kind of like watching something wonderful happen, but not really caring. Brandon was amazing and beautiful, and brought one of the most powerful performances of the night, but didn't get his propers. Chris R. was freaking amazing, which is confusing, and Sundance was inordinately successful, which is sadly not that confusing, and he's still going to win this stupid show. Ryan loves "watching the guys dance" and "pulling up their pants," and he gives them tailoring advice. Simon rolls his eyes as Paula calls the night a touchdown. Ryan calls Simon out on how much fun he was secretly having, and Simon is adorable and bashful about it, and then Ryan kicks it to the voters of America, thanking us in advance and reminding us that Jeff Foxworthy speaks for ignorant white trash everywhere, just like this show. Tomorrow, Joe R is hanging with the ladies, and then I will bring much wailing and gnashing of teeth, and bad tidings of a cursed song that you must never sing again.