Tuesday. Melodramatic Announcer returns to melodramatically recap the entire show thus far for us in thirty seconds. There's Tamyra, telling us she wants to be a "superstar." There's Anakin Boogie, flailing around like a dancing crash-test dummy. The announcer melodramatically declares about the finalists: "They didn't know it then, but four words were about to change them forever." Then we see Paula telling a contestant, "Congratulations, you're going to Hollywood!" Add "basic math" to the list of things that FOX has ruined. Jim tells the camera, "Thank you. You will not be disappointed." Well, that depends what your expectations are. If you're hoping for thin, mediocre performances, then you can look forward to Jim delivering in spades. Melodramatic Announcer melodramatically continues that the ten finalists were all moved into a giant mansion in Los Angeles and the stage altered to accommodate a live audience. We see clips of the house and the new stage. He melodramatically concludes, "One by one, they will sing. One by one, you will vote. And week after week, one by one they will go, until only one is left: The American Idol." I would hardly call jamming up the phone lines for two hours hitting redial as voting "one by one." And also, two people are getting voted off after tonight's performance. But nice try at the repetitive poetics.
Credits. I guess I was wrong when I stated that we wouldn't be seeing The Octagon of Judgment anymore. It looks like this "new" stage has been built around The Octagon. I suspect that the seating had been there all along, but they never showed that part of the studio before. They've added wings and runways and various bells and whistles to turn the tiny cabaret into a modest-sized auditorium. The color scheme is dominated by purple and blue. The monitor behind the stage has been upgraded about three sizes to dominate the back wall. There are holes all over the stage to hide equipment and serve as an "orchestra pit," though I doubt there's any such thing on the show, but I'll get to that later.
Black and Decker walk out from the back of the stage to The Octagon of Judgment to the cheers of a packed house. Ryan "Joystick" Seacrest is wearing a charcoal suit with a white shirt and no tie. Brian "I Can't Get To You" Dunkleman is wearing a black suit with a violet shirt and no tie. I'm bitterly disappointed with their boring attire. Also, Ryan seems to have stolen Jim's glasses. They greet the crowd, which seems to be about 90 percent teenage girls. And a bunch of them brought American flags to wave. Or rather, they were handed American flags by the producers and told to wave them on the show. Black and Decker blather about the new stage features and "full orchestral arrangements," which is absolutely not the same as the live "orchestra" they promised last episode. I'm fairly certain that all the music has been pre-recorded. If there were musicians performing live there, I can't imagine why they would hide them in the pit. It's not like a Broadway play, where a band could distract from the action or anything. It would actually enhance the idea of a big production. But, you know, if you just record the music, you don't have to pay the musicians evening rates or whatever.
Black and Decker crack an unfunny joke and nobody laughs. I highlight that last sentence and make a macro out of it. Blah blah blah votecakes. Black and Decker explain to the voters that "this isn't Survivor." Yeah, on Survivor, the winner of the contest walks out with a million dollars, whereas on this show, one of the judges will walk out with a million dollars, and the "winner" will likely be filing for bankruptcy in three years. Anyway, what Black and Decker meant is that, just as in rounds, you vote for the contestants you like most, not for the contestants you wish to go away. This week, the two contestants with the fewest votes will be eliminated, while only one will be dropped per week in the future until there are only two left for the final showdown.
Finally, it's time to introduce the kids. They all file out onstage one by one to the cheers of the crowd. I'll save sartorial observations for when each contestant performs, but I will mention that I actually laughed out loud when EJay walked out. Also, the boys seem to have developed a serious aversion to sleeves somewhere in the course of the past week. After the kids make their way out, Black and Decker explain that there will be "themes" for each week's performances from now on. Tonight's theme is "Motown." That's not so much a "theme" as a "gigantic chunk of American pop-music history." It's like describing "The Nineteenth Century" as a "theme" in a literature class. Black and Decker crack an unfunny joke and nobody laughs.
Now it's time to introduce the judges, as the kids file back offstage to prepare for their performance. Randy "You Haven't Done Nothin'" Jackson "yo, man"s one of his typical greetings and gives some nonsense about "America" being behind him. The crowd cheers. I don't even pay attention to what Paula "Beauty Is Only Skin Deep" Abdul says, because directly behind her in the front row of the audience are several young women wearing T-shirts with Simon "Stubborn Kind Of Fellow" Cowell's face on them. When they introduce Simon, the women directly behind him cheer, but the rest of the audience boos, like they were told to do by producers before the show began. Black and Decker even make the kids shout out a second round of boos. I wonder how many calories I can burn just by rolling my eyes for about ten minutes. ["After watching this sequence, I myself was suddenly wearing a size six." -- Sars] Brian asks Simon how much he had to pay those girls to wear those shirts. Probably far less than Brian has to pay a girl to take hers off. Simon gestures to the girls, but doesn't really give much by way of a response.
The shirt blather serves as a segue to a discussion about contestant fashion. Black and Decker crack an unfunny joke about their clothing and nobody laughs. The kids have a new sponsor, a [product-placed] credit card company, which allegedly gave the kids $2,000 a piece for a shopping spree. Insert time-wasting flashback montage of the kids shopping. Pictures of the [product-placed] credit cards. People try on shoes. A.J. swirls around to the camera and caresses the collar of his jacket. That boy's got a collar fetish or something. He probably masturbates on top of a pile of vintage '70s shirts. Kelly, Tamyra, and Christina all walk out to discover they're all wearing the same outfit. Ha, ha…cough. Justin (Eeeeeeee!) stands there wearing a see-through shirt. And yes, we get to see his skinny, chicken chest. Those of you who are turned on by that sort of thing can feel free to drool. He jokes that the shirt is more of a "Ryan Seacrest" thing. More shots of the [product-placed] cards as the kids learn how to be good shills. I find it amusing to imagine that instead of free money, that actually were given credit cards with $2,000 limits, and in two months time, they're going to get bills in the mail demanding payments with 19.9% financing.
Back to the stage, where Black and Decker crack an unfunny joke about Ryan's nipples and nobody laughs. It's time to get on the business of the actual performances. First up tonight is Ryan "What's Goin' On" Starr. Now that they've all made it to the final ten, the show makes an effort to go back and tell us a bit more about each kid in a little clip show. We're informed that Ryan is a "quintessential California girl," which doesn't sound much like a compliment, and I actually like California. Ryan drives down the Pacific Coast Highway in a jeep. She carries a surfboard out on a beach. She wears a wetsuit and carries the surfboard around at the water's edge, but we don't actually see her surf at all. In her strangely deep voice, she explains that likes to go the beach because of the peacefulness and the serenity. Her clothing never gets mauled by wild animals there. We see the Gap-esque clothing store where she worked prior to the show. She wears normal, unsavaged clothes in the workplace. One of her co-workers says that they were surprised to see Ryan's confident personality on stage, because she's "such a dork" at the store. Only a good friend would say something like that about you on national television. Ryan admits that "she's not cool at all" and reaffirms that she's a big dork. The overall impression from watching Ryan's profile is that she's Keanu Reeves's female counterpart.
Black and Decker introduce Ryan to the stage and inform us that she'll be singing "If You Really Love Me." Her outfit is typically bizarre. She's wearing a belly-baring black top and red low-slung jeans. Her outfit is "accented" with a black-and-white striped bowtie tied on to her right shoulder, with others tied at points down her arm. She's also wearing a black-and-white striped shirtless collar with a red bowtie attached to the front, like an Art Deco Chippendale.
She walks out singing, and I'm immediately distracted by the awful, awful CGI graphics scrolling across the giant monitor. It looks like a camera panning down the bridge of a guitar, while music notes flutter about here and there. Flying toasters would look more professional. A scrolling purple marquee screensaver with the performer's name in 500-point Comic Sans MS would look more professional. A blank screen would look more professional. And even worse, the whole CGI animation is about five seconds long and just keeps recycling and recycling and recycling.
Anyway, Ryan's singing. She's her typical confident self with her booming voice. However, this song really highlights how limited her range is. She's just stuck down on the whiskey-voiced end of the scale. She sings lower than all the boys. When she gets to the chorus, we also discover that there are phantom back-up singers in the recording. Ryan's voice just gets lost in the brass and back-up singers. It's not that she's not loud enough. It's just that she's just at this pitch that blends in with the other singers. If she doesn't make it as a solo act, I think she could have a great career as a back-up singer. That doesn't sound like much of a compliment, but the world needs back-up singers, too.
The crowd cheers after her performance. Somebody holds up a sign that reads, "Ryan is a Starr." The judges are now sitting directly in front of The Octagon to render their opinions. Nobody says anything we haven't heard before. Randy says she ran out of steam a little bit toward the end, and Paula observes that she got a little bit behind the music, but they both loved the performance. Simon says that he thinks Ryan has grown throughout the competition and that she "looks like a star." So, compliments all around.
Ryan dorkily runs over to a little set-up on the left wing of the stage where Black and Decker have a spot for post-performance interviews. Not that they ever have anything of interest to add. How does Ryan like performing before a live audience? She loves it. Host Ryan skeevily asks Contestant Ryan how many celebrities have hit on her since she appeared on the show. Contestant Ryan says "none," because leering Brian doesn't count as a celebrity. Black and Decker say that "that will probably change tonight," like having a celebrity drool all over you is automatically a good thing. We're not all starfuckers like you are, Host Ryan. Pun unintended. Ryan starts to leave, but Black and Decker have her sit back down as they toss it to commercials, so Brian can stare at her chest for a little while longer.
Commercials. When we return, Brian is alone onstage in front of the cheering crowd. He soaks in the applause that he'll never ever get on the basis of his own talents. He blah blah blahs about the final show and how it will be "packed with celebrities." Considering they promised us a "live orchestra" last week, I'll take that promise with an entire of carton of salt. And that's even taking into account FOX's rather specious definition of what a "celebrity" is. I predict the kind of cavalcade of stars not seen since the opening of Britney's restaurant. Anyway, if you care, tickets are available to attend final show.
It seems as though we haven't gotten rid of Pimp Central either, so we're obviously at the same place we were before. Host Ryan is hanging out in there with the kids. Apparently the kids have some sort of "warm-up" song to try to stave off the nerves. Whatever. Anyway, the finalist is R.J. "Nowhere To Run" Helton. Ryan asks R.J. how he deals with nerves. R.J. says he prays. We'll find out later that he probably prayed for the wrong thing.
As R.J. heads out to the stage, we get his clip show. R.J., it turns out, was adopted, and his parents have always been very supportive. The family moved around a lot because of the father's career. No indication what the career is or anything, and there's no captioning identifying anything so much as his parents' names. Crafting compelling, organized documentaries is for those losers on cable. R.J.'s a big mama's boy. His own mama says so.
Black and Decker introduce R.J. and tell us he will be singing "I Can't Help Myself." You know, considering how Foreshadowing really just phoned in his work all throughout the regular television season, he's really going out of his way to be clever for this show. R.J. heads down to The Octagon wearing a black sleeveless shirt with a wide, gray cross down the center and jeans.
He starts singing, and it looks like somebody has taken pity on the boy and taught him to make his bobbing and bouncing look a little more like actual dancing. They've taught him to keep his upper body still and grind his hips around a bit instead. Now he looks a bit like he's snowboarding, rather than skiing. He still barely moves onstage, and his physical presence doesn't match the energy of the song. In front of the stage, Host Ryan has jumped down from his interview chair and is dancing with some girl. Camera whore! Ryan, I mean, not the girl. R.J.'s singing is his typical solid but not particularly remarkable warbling. And yes, I giggled when he sang, "When I call your name, / Girl, it starts a flame." And we haven't even gotten to EJay yet. R.J. gets a picture of a cityscape as a background graphic.
Judges. Idiot Ryan draws attention to himself as he makes his way back to his interviewing seat and confesses that "[he] got excited." Yeah, well, keep that sport coat buttoned so that the rest of us don't have to see. Randy blathers on some more about loving R.J.'s initials. If you don't have anything to contribute, just don't say anything. Then Randy praises R.J.'s singing. Paula says that R.J. is a natural on the stage. No, really. She thinks that glazed, wide-eyed expression on his face and awkward shuffling is good stage presence. Simon, thank god, disagrees. He thought the performance was average compared to R.J.'s singing last week. A-ha, and now I see why Simon always pauses in his critiques after he makes a negative comment. He's waiting for the crowd to boo. They nearly miss their cue, but catch it at the last moment and register their disagreement. Simon continues that R.J. just didn't have any stage presence, especially when compared to the other contestants. Randy tries to bring up the judge fight that they've had, but Simon recognizes that they've milked that dead horse dry and cuts him off.
The crowd cheers for R.J. as he heads over to Black and Decker. Ryan draws attention to his dancing again. Brian actually amuses me for the first time ever and totally ignores Ryan to continue on with the interview. Brian asks him if the other kids treat R.J. any differently because he's the "wild card." No, they're all just the nine nicest, sweetest, friendliest kids in the whole wide world.
The contestant is Nikki "The Way You Do The Things You Do" McKibbin. In narration over her clip show, Black and Decker insist that Nikki is the "American Idol wild child" because she has pink hair and has a penchant for red plaid and leather pants. We're also introduced to one of the possible consequences of Nikki's "wild" life, a four-year-old son named Tristen. That's how the closed captioning spells it, and since the show doesn't provide any name captioning for these other people, I'll just have to go with it. We see adorable little Tristen pretending to play a guitar. Nikki says that she's glad that she's different from all the other contestants in regards to fashion and music interest, et cetera.
Then Nikki comes out to the stage dressed like a restaurant hostess. Looks like Irony has found some summer work, too. Nikki's wearing an oversized white blouse and black pants, and a choker necklace that isn't particularly flashy or remarkable. She's also wearing big, clunky shoes, and has to shuffle her way down the ramp to the stairs to keep from falling.
Nikki's song for this evening's competition is "Ben," that Michael Jackson love song for a rat. Her voice is terribly flat, and remains so throughout the song. The phantom back-up singers aren't particularly helpful either. They repeat the last three words of each verse after Nikki sings them, and that never really sounds good. It makes the song sound like a commercial jingle, like "Ben" is a brand of floor wax. She gets rippling water as her screensaver background. Nikki pronounces "Ben" as if rhymed with "pin," which confuses the closed captioners, so they think she sang "me." In fact, the captioners think the song was titled "Then," not "Ben."
Judges. Randy says he didn't like her song choice because it didn't show off her alleged "wild child" persona. God forbid she try to climb her way out of the box the judges and the show have firmly stuffed her in. I mean, it's not like rock performers ever sing slow, melancholy songs or anything. In her clip show, Nikki commented about dressing differently and having different music tastes from the other finalists, but she's said nothing, ever, that indicates that her personality is in any way "wild." Paula says that she didn't see anything in the performance that was "authentically Nikki." Man, these judges really made snap judgments about Nikki and just refuse to let go. She's not a "wild child." She never was. Give it up. Simon agrees with the other judges and tells Nikki that she looks like she's been through "a daytime TV-show makeover." Blah blah "rebel" blah. Simon says he hopes Nikki makes it to the round, but this performance didn't really represent who Nikki really is.
Nikki strides carefully over to Black and Decker to keep from falling down. Too bad she and Kristin hated each other so much; Kristin might have taught her how to walk comfortably in giant clunky heels. Black and Decker ask Nikki about the song choice. She says that it was the only Motown song that means anything to her; her mom used to sing it to her as a lullaby. I think I would have esteem issues if one of my parents sang a song meant for a rat to me. Nikki insists that it was tough for her to find a song from that era, because she's more of a "rock and roll" performer. On one hand, several posters have pointed out that there are several edgier Motown songs she could have selected, not to mention the fact that other musicians have covered Motown songs and made them rock and roll. On the other hand, with the pre-recorded arrangements, I don't know if she even had the option to add a rock sensibility to the music.
Black and Decker crack a stupid joke about fame and nobody laughs. This serves as a lead-in to tonight's "[product-placed cola] Moments." All the lighting on the stage turns red to match said cola's can color. They show clips from the kids' photo-shoot with Entertainment Weekly magazine. EW get their name mentioned because they've written nice things about us. Yes, I'm petty that way. The kids pose and sign autographs at the mall.
Commercials. When we return, they repeat the entire Melodramatic Announcer clip show from the beginning of the show in its entirety. The entire thing. The only change is a mention somewhere in there that three contestants have already performed. What kills me about all this padding is that the kids still aren't singing the entire song they've chosen. It's essentially just verse-chorus-bridge-chorus. I wonder if it saves the show money or something.
Back to the live stage. Black and Decker crack a very lengthy, very unfunny, math-related joke involving the number of contestants and eliminations, et cetera. The joke flops onto the floor and dies, stillborn. Then Black and Decker crack an unfunny joke about the first joke dying, and that dies, too. Is there such a thing as "comedic malpractice"? These two need their licenses revoked, stat, before they kill more jokes. Blah blah blah votecakes. Black and Decker crack an unfunny joke about counting votes, and it dies. And then they beat the corpse of the first dead joke for good measure. Man, these two are awful. How hard is it to make a room full of giggly teenagers laugh? At this point, Black and Decker armpit-farting "I Heard It Through The Grapevine" would be a comedic improvement.
up is EJay "Ain't That Peculiar" Day. Hee. That outfit! First, though, is the clip show. E-Jay works at the stage revue at Six Flags Over Georgia. They show him singing with a bunch of other performers. Clearly, having to wear a hideous red tuxedo every day as a work uniform has permanently damaged E.J.'s fashion judgment. They show Eeh-Jay wandering around Six Flags wearing the top half of a Boy Scout uniform and jeans, looking like one of those dancers who got Elton John in trouble back in England a few months ago. A woman at Six Flags compliments EJAY's performance. They show him at home with his family, just to prove that he wasn't created through Sauron's dark magic. The clip show concludes with a final look at EJay's Six Flags performances. He ends a song with a diva head-snap flourish that would do Jack McFarlane proud.
Back at the stage, Black and Decker introduce EJay and tell us that he's singing "My Girl," like that's going to butch him up for us. Eeedge-ay could sing Andrew W.K. and still set off fire detectors. The outfit. He's wearing a black sleeveless shirt. And underneath that, he's wearing a white sleeveless shirt. And then he ripped a huge scar across the chest of the black shirt so we can see the white shirt underneath. I think he's wearing girls' jeans, but he fills them out better than Mark Scott did, so I can't be sure. As accents, he's got a red belt, and to top it off, a black newsboy cap. Now that I describe it, it doesn't sound as awful as it looks. It's all the cap, really. If he took that damn cap off, the rest wouldn't look so ridiculous.
Once again EJay has decided that there's a chance he may never sing again, so he's going to fit as many notes into this one song as he can. Why hold one note when you can run through fifteen? His singing is better overall than it was in the semifinals, but he really, really needs to learn better judgment with the vocal gymnastics. He takes the song places it really shouldn't be going. He gets a cheesy sunset as a background animation. EJay's got pretty good stage presence. Actually, he works the stage better than all the guys, save Justin (Eeeeeeeeee!). And I still think he's hot. Shut up. He's got nice arms.
Judges. Randy says that EJay's the best singer they've heard so far. Paula says he was "pretty damn flawless." Simon takes a moment to criticize the awful editors who put together EJay's clip show. Now that I think about it, they never even talked to his family or friends, like they did for many of the others. Ryan interrupts them to snark at Simon for mocking the editors, and an unamused Simon tells him to shut up. You can tell Simon finds the hosts to be incredibly tiresome. The crowd boos, even though they haven't laughed at a single one of Black and Decker's jokes all night. Brian shouts, "Why don't you go back to France?!" at Simon. No, why don't you go back to whatever dumpster behind a comedy club that spawned you in the first place? Simon says that EJay has a good voice, but isn't what he believes to be "an American Idol." The crowd boos, and EJay shoots back that he disagrees, and it's up to the voters to decide. The crowd starts cheering; Foreshadowing watches from the wings and chuckles.
EJay heads over to Black and Decker, who crack an unfunny joke about nobody wanting free pictures of Simon. Nobody laughs. They ask EJay which crowd is better -- this crowd or the crowds back at Six Flags. Since the crowds in Six Flags are probably only at the revue to get out of the heat and digest lunch so they don't throw up when they ride the coasters, it comes as no surprise that EJay praises the crowd that has been ordered to cheer him on. The crowd cheers. We keep seeing three folks in the audience who are probably family, but there must be a captioning strike in Hollywood or something, because they aren't identified. They ask EJay how he thinks he did. He thinks he did well. Brilliant interviewing.
Commercials. When we return, Black and Decker blah blah blah about the voting some more, then ask the camera people to show the kids waving their flags in the audience. Brian points out to Simon that there aren't any Union Jacks in the crowd, as if these kids actually spontaneously showed up with the flags, and not that the show's British producers didn't hand them out. Simon snarks that the two of them are so predictable. Well, of course. Everybody's been ordered to be mean to you, so yeah, it's predictable. They argue some more, and Simon tells Black and Decker to shut up yet again. He looks like he's very close to unbuckling his belt and getting all "abusive dad" on the two of them right there. Brian observes that Simon has told him to shut up twice, and holds up two fingers as an illustration. That also happens to be the British equivalent of flipping somebody off, so you can decide for yourself whether or not Brian is actually clever enough to pull something like that. I vote no. Paula says Simon has "mad Cowell" disease. Randy says Simon is lonely. Paula awkwardly stutters out that when Simon was a kid, his parents ran away from home. I'd feel more sympathy for Simon having to put up with all these morons if it weren't increasingly obvious that Simon is an active participant in all this behind the scenes, encouraging the insults because it keeps him in the news. I think it's all incredibly fake -- every stupid, poorly delivered insult.
up is Tamyra "Heaven Must Have Sent You" Gray, here to save us from all the shitty arguments. The clip show features Tamyra attending church and clapping along with the gospel choir from the pews. I'm kind of surprised she doesn't sing with them. She tells the camera that when she needs to "replenish [her] energy," she turns to prayer. You know, if I didn't like her so much, I'd find that statement annoying for a million reasons. Like, take a nap and leave God out of it. Anyway, Tamyra doesn't strike me as somebody who has problems getting her energy up. The minister tells the congregation to pray for God to give her the strength to perform, and also to smite that one creepy vampire boy. Tamyra also gets support from her adorable younger brother, named Treven. Again, I'm relying on closed captioning for the spelling. He says he wants Tamyra to become a superstar, and Tamyra laughs and hugs him.
Tamyra hits the stage to perform "Touch Me In The Morning." She definitely dressed for the theme, with a hip retro afro. Her outfit is all coppers and browns, with a metallic, belly-baring shirt with giant floppy sleeves like she's prone to wearing, and brown pants.
Again, I'm at a loss for words trying to recap Tamyra's singing. She's just that good. She starts singing as she walks down the runway toward The Octagon. Even the screensaver background loves her, giving her non-cheesy clouds scrolling across a blue sky. Her stage presence is terrific. She trills a few notes, but holds plenty of others, giving the song some good variety. It's just an awesome, flawless performance. She's definitely my favorite finalist.
She gets a big standing ovation from the audience. In fact, they keep cheering over Randy as he tries to give his comments. Randy says that Tamyra looks and sounds like she could be "exactly what the 'American Idol' is all about." Paula calls Tamyra's performance "flawless," then stands up to give the referee's touchdown gesture. She sang Diana Ross, not Hank Williams Jr. Sit your ass back down, Paula. Simon mocks Paula, telling her, "You can't get away from the cheerleading, can you?" Paula snarks back that Simon wishes he could date one. Randy snarks that Simon wants to be a cheerleader. Do they have a twelve-year-old boy backstage who writes their snaps for them? They actually make me wish Joan Rivers were around. Simon tells Tamyra that the female contestants on American Idol have totally blown away the female contestants on the British version, and she's the reason why. The crowd cheers. He adds that if they were to judge this competition on voice alone, Tamyra would win. Then he adds that two people are going to be voted off tonight, and he'd like to cast his vote against Black and Decker. I'll take that as a shout-out. And I agree, if by "voted off," Simon means "sacrificed to an active volcano to appease angry gods."
Tamyra heads up to Black and Decker to talk about how great her performance was. They mention that Tamyra sang at her church for the first time, which I find so odd for some reason. Maybe she just never had the time to devote to the church's choir. It turns out she was really nervous about it, because she says she's very quiet and reserved there. Ryan mentions that he went on the shopping spree with the kids -- which I don't believe, because he would have mugged around for the cameras as much as he possibly could in order to get on the air -- and mentions that Tamyra actually took a belt and wrapped it around her neck as a choker. Brian wonders why he wasn't invited on the shopping trip. Do you think the girls don't notice you staring at their breasts? That's why you weren't invited. They're probably afraid he'd drill holes in the dressing room walls to spy on them.
Commercials. The Pulse: Pouring kerosene on America's flames of paranoid fear.
When we return, Black and Decker don't even bother with any dumb jokes before informing us that Justin "Give It To Me Baby" Guarini is . I didn't add an (Eeeeeeeeee!) to the end that time because the live audience was kind enough to provide the sound effect on my behalf. In a his clip show, Justin (Eeeeeeeeee!) tells the camera that his parents got divorced when he was a kid, and he bounced back and forth between his parents in Atlanta and Philadelphia. None of that has anything to do with anything we hear . He got his love of music from choir performances. In an interview, a man and woman -- who are not identified -- explain that Justin was the only kid out of 441 to perform a solo. Don't understand? Neither do I. There are 441 kids in the choir? Which one? When was this? He's the only one to ever perform a solo in this whole choir, ever? It's called "context," show producers. Look it up. And get somebody to provide some damned captioning to identify these people. I'm guessing this couple is Justin's mom and step-dad. Justin (Eeeeeeeeee!) says that the positive responses he got from his singing made it clear to him that it's what he wants to do.
Justin (Eeeeeeeeee!) heads to The Octagon to perform "For Once In My Life," and I worry whether or not I'll even be able to hear him over the shrieking. He's dressed pretty much like Tamyra's male equivalent, with the same copper and brown shades. His shirt is various shades of brown and orange, with eclectic paisley patterns all over it. I kind of like the shirt. Shut up. He's also wearing brown pants.
The audience is on its feet before Justin (Eeeeeeeeee!) even starts singing. His charisma immediately gets to work as Justin (Eeeeeeeeee!) disco-steps his way confidently through the song. The audience starts clapping after about half a verse. His singing is solid, but not flashy. It's all about the stage presence. Justin (Eeeeeeeeee!) pretty much ignores the cameras and focuses entirely on the audience, which is exactly the right thing to do, but leaves millions of home viewers out of the loop on the eye-fucking. Justin (Eeeeeeeeee!) points at people in the audience and eye-fucks them. I can't tell from the angle, but I'm pretty sure he takes a moment to give Paula another good eye-fucking as well. He dances around some more. He owns the stage entirely. None of the other male contestants on the show can even come close to his level of stage presence or charisma. They don't even bother with a new screensaver as a backdrop for Justin (Eeeeeeeeee!).
They just leave it at the default field of stars.Needless to say, the crowd shrieks for about half an hour after Justin (Eeeeeeeeee!) is done. They keep showing some guy in the audience, whom I'm guessing is his dad, but of course, he's not identified. Time for the judges, if the audience will calm down long enough. Randy starts telling Justin (Eeeeeeeeee!) how great he is, blah blah blah. Justin (Eeeeeeeeee!) says it was tough performing after Tamyra. Yeah, try to imagine how tough it will be to follow both Tamyra and Justin (Eeeeeeeeee!). Who's going to be the poor shlub to get that spot? Randy asks Paula if she can even formulate a coherent sentence. By way of response, Paula "faints" and collapses onto Randy's shoulder. Oh, that's just terrific; her uterus must have fallen out again. Somebody get some Super Glue. She sits up and makes that babbling sound you make by flapping your lips with a finger. Simon says that's the smartest thing Paula has said so far. Right as usual, Simon. Justin (Eeeeeeeeee!) defends Paula and tells Simon to back off, adding that he and Randy will go after him. Somebody's just a wee bit too confident about his standing on the show. I would love to see his facial expression if Simon were to turn around and say that his performance was awful. But no, Simon has to feed Justin's confidence even further. Simon says that everybody's been hyping Justin Timberlake as the "hottest star" to come out of America in a while, but argues that Justin needs to watch his back for our Justin (Eeeeeeeeee!). Who's been hyping Timberlake lately? How very 2000. "Hottest star"? Hardly.
Justin (Eeeeeeeeee!) soaks in the audience's cheers some more before heading over to Black and Decker. They try to blather about voting, but some girl from the audience shrieks, "I love you, Justin!" If any readers make it out there to the show, I dare you to shout, "You guys suck!" to Black and Decker while they're alone onstage. Then Ryan picks out some girl nearby in the audience to run up and kiss Justin (Eeeeeeeeee!) on the cheek. Man, those two are presumptuous. Did they even think to ask Justin if he was okay with that? Justin (Eeeeeeeeee!) looks a little surprised, but obligingly bends down on the stage to let her kiss him on the cheek from the audience floor. Then he hammily pats his cheek and then his own mouth, like he's transferring the kiss or something. Cheezy. Black and Decker volunteer Justin (Eeeeeeeeee!) for more kisses following the show. What ? Are they going to auction off a competitor?
Five girls stand and cheer for Jim following his performance. The rest of the audience just claps politely. You know that's not a good sign. You can tell from Jim's resigned facial expression that even he knows it was awful. Randy starts by giving some big, long speech about how they're trying to find the best talent in America. Isn't it enough that we've got the narrator and Black and Decker reminding us of this after every commercial break? We know! We're watching! Also, the best talent in America didn't even show up for this contest, because they're too busy actually working to make their dreams come true, instead of hoping it gets handed to them in a contest. Randy starts blathering about working with Whitney and Mariah, but Simon interrupts him with a loud snore, because he doesn't like anybody getting more attention than him. Randy's point is that Jim was really, really, really bad. The crowd boos, even though they all really thought it sucked, too. Paula, of course, is an idiot, and tells Jim that he "doesn't have to take it" from Randy, like there's anything Jim could possibly do about it. She gives this utterly incoherent speech comparing the contest to the Olympics, and contends that Jim is an Olympian. Whatever. Have you ever watched the people who are sixteenth place in figure skating in the Olympics? They can't even cross the ice without falling down. It's hardly a compliment, and it's also stupid, and just shut up, Paula. I never liked you when you had an actual musical career, and I like you even less now. I think I liked you the most when I had never heard of you. She concludes that this wasn't Jim's "golden moment," but he should still be proud of himself. Simon picks up where Paula's Olympic comparison left off and points out that the two people before him ran the musical equivalent of 100 meters in ten seconds, while Jim ran it in five minutes. Simon says that he's sure Jim is a nice enough guy, but they're looking for a star, and Jim just isn't it. Jim bobs his head in resignation and thanks them for their comments.
He heads over to Black and Decker, who try to pretend that Simon and Randy are the only people who thought Jim's performance sucked. They ask him if the repeat criticism from Simon and Randy even means anything to him anymore. Jim answers that their opinions do matter to him. He concludes that he wants to please everyone, but sometimes, "you can't win 'em all." I think he kind of knows that he's toast.
Commercials. When we return, Black and Decker repeat for us that tonight's theme is Motown and blah blah blah votecakes. up is Kelly "Mustang Sally" Clarkson. In her clip show, we see Kelly goofing off in her tiny hometown in Texas. Clearly fame hasn't gone to Kelly's head. I don't think it's possible for fame to go to Kelly's head. She's got some sort of hormone in her cerebrum that blocks fame from passing into her brain cells. She tells us how her friends still all see her as the girl who would show up at school wearing her pajamas because she just got out of bed. Kelly hangs out at a creek that reminds me of the time some friends and I went canoeing out in rural Missouri and ended up stuck in a campground full of neo-Nazis. Anyway, one of her friends tells us how she showed up for school one day and forgot her shoes because she was running late. Kelly tosses around the football in the creek with some friends and makes silly faces for the camera and generally acts pleasantly goofy. She insists that her friends and family are the most important things to her.
Kelly heads out to The Octagon to sing "You're All I Need To Get By." She's wearing the exact same burgundy corset that Angela Peel wore in the semi-finals. Her dress, though, is longer and frillier, though it's still black and has a leg-revealing slit in one side. She also has huge, black lacy sleeves that hang down, kind of like those that Tamyra usually wears.
Man, Kelly's got such a big voice. It sounds so strange coming out of her body. Like Ryan, she's still got her whisky-sounding belting qualities; however, Kelly's got a much better range and is capable of working her way up to hit some big power notes. She definitely doesn't get lost in the phantom back-up singers. Her stage presence is okay, but she seems a little stiff. Not as a bad as R.J. or Jim or anything, but not as good as Ryan.
The crowd cheers loudly for her performance, and a few people rise to their feet. She heads up to the front of the stage for the judges' comments. Randy starts the way he usually does, by repeating the contestant's name about six times, then calling her "man," before getting to his actual comments. Randy tells her she sounds brilliant. Paula says that the public has really embraced Kelly's personality, dorkiness and all. She loves Kelly's personality, her spirit, and her voice. Kelly jokingly covers her ears when it turns to Simon's turn. Simon tells Kelly that she's "raised the game" for the other contestants. Kelly looks shocked at the compliment. I don't think she has to worry about Simon forgetting who she is any more. Simon concludes by absolutely butchering a Texas accent in telling her, "Y'all did a great job."
Kelly rushes over to Black and Decker, where they briefly mock Simon's sorry attempt at an accent. Brian interviews Kelly while staring at her breasts. Seriously, he does. He mentions that she's been "quarantined" at their group house. Apparently, Kelly gave this whole kick-ass performance while suffering from laryngitis. Wow. You really could not tell, but that might have been why she wasn't so active on stage if she had to concentrate more than usual to hit the notes. She and the contestants prayed over her voice, et cetera, because she claims it was totally gone yesterday. She calls the performance a miracle. Let's not go that far. And apparently they must have some extra time, because they drag out the interview to try to get Paula to give some more comments about how Kelly has "grown" in the competition. Here's a suggestion for future shows, guys: Let the kids sing the whole song. Paula calls Kelly a "pistol" and has an "aura of energy" about her. She even invokes Simon's X-Factor to describe Kelly. And they're still stalling for time, so they invite some guy in the audience who apparently has a crush on Kelly to come give her a hug. This geeky boy rushes up on stage, and she obliges him with a hug. Then he gets down on one knee and kisses her hand. Everybody cheers. She gives him another hug before he runs back down to the audience. Black and Decker finally send us off to commercials.
When we return, Black and Decker blather on about the voting. God, just shut up. up is A.J. "All I Could Do Was Cry" Gil. In his clip show, we meet A.J.'s mom and nine siblings. A.J. is wearing a giant crucifix on his necklace to try to convince us that he's not of the undead. His efforts are hampered by the fact that he's wearing a heavy black turtleneck sweater outdoors on a hot summer day. His mother tells us that A.J.'s shy. Black and Decker narrate that A.J.'s dad is a traveling minister, leaving A.J. behind as the "man of the house." God, how I hate that phrase. Like Mom really needs her teenage son's help running the house just because he has a penis. It's all so very 7th Heaven. A.J. says that his mom prayed for a good performance from him, and for A.J. to be able to attend one of Dad's sermons without bursting into flame.
A.J. heads out to The Octagon to sing "My Cherie Amour." The closed captioning calls it "My Sharee Amour." Idiots. A.J.'s wearing this hideous black jacket with (of course) a giant collar and yellow stripes that look like they're actually just strips of tape, and a pair of dark blue jeans. He falls behind the music with the opening "la la"s and is a little flat. Not a good start. He gets the same awful musical note screensaver background that Ryan did. His singing is definitely better than it was in the semifinals and he seems a little bit more comfortable on stage, but he's still terribly blah. He also can't hold a note steady. He trills everything. He plays to the cameras and pretty much ignores the audience.
Still, he gets plenty of cheers for his performance, and a few folks in the audience rise to their feet. Randy starts off the judging by commenting that A.J's performance was "very nice," but didn't really blow him away like some of the other singers'. Paula never ceases to amaze me with the witlessness of her comments. She compliments A.J.'s ugly outfit. Well, I suppose after seeing the cloned outfits of R.J. and Jim and the walking disaster that was Eeeh-Jae, A.J. does look dressed like an actual guy his age. Paula points out that A.J. had trouble staying in time with the arrangement, but compliments his "nice, pure voice." She agrees with Randy that perhaps it wasn't his best performance. She starts saying, "But you did a real, real--" and Simon interrupts here to finish, "Good job?" Paula denies that that was what she was going to say, then stammers around for five minutes because she was totally going to say "good job" and now she can't think of anything else. So she insists that she was going to say that this was the second-best performance she's heard from A.J. So she was going to say, "You did a real, real second-best performance"? Shut up, Paula. Simon smiles and tells A.J. that he thinks he's a nice person and hopes that he achieves his dreams. But everybody knows the "but" is coming and it's going to be a doozy. They actually cut to some woman in the audience who is wincing in anticipation of what Simon is going to say . No idea whether or not she's any relation to A.J., because there's no captioning. Simon says that he cares "passionately" about who is going to win this contest, because stripper girlfriends are expensive to keep, and he needs to make sure he signs a good cash cow. He insists that he wants the "audience to be proud" of whoever wins the competition, whatever the hell that means. It's not like we're all his vocal coaches or anything. All we do is press buttons on a phone. Anyway, he says that, based on A.J.'s performance tonight, if he were to win, it would be "a disaster." The audience boos, and Paula once again insists that A.J. "doesn't have to take that" from Simon. And what are his alternatives? I repeat: Shut up, Paula.
A.J. heads over to Black and Decker, who repeat Simon's comments. They ask A.J. if he thinks he "proved" himself to the American public. A.J. responds, "No, I agree that I don't deserve to win this contest. I encourage all of you at home to vote for Justin or Tamyra or one of the other singers." Really, what do they think A.J. is going to say? He says that he hopes so. He makes some big speech about nobody seeing his performance in Pasadena on the show, and I haven't got a clue what he means; Paula did mention that his performance there was his best, so maybe he's worried that the voters haven't seen his best singing. He concludes that he respects Simon's opinions and they'll just have to see what the voters decide. With that illuminating piece of information, Black and Decker send us off to more commercials.
When we return, it's time for our last contestant, Christina "Three Times A Lady" Christian. In her clip show, we learn that Christina is a product of South Florida's Caribbean culture. We see her sipping coconut milk directly out of a coconut. She explains this to us, because we don't know what a coconut is, I guess. Christina's parents are from Trinidad, and it looks like the entire Christian family has been given free rein to swim as much as they like in the "pretty" end of the gene pool. Her father (I'm assuming) says they knew that she would be a star from the moment she was born. Wow. No pressure there. Christina sits photogenically at the edge of some pond and babbles about all her friends thinking she's a star, even though she insists that she's the same old Christina she's always been. I wish one of these kids would say something like, "Yeah, I'm a big star now, and I'm going back home to rub it everybody's face." Just for variety's sake.
Christina hits the stage to sing "Ain't No Mountain High Enough." She's wearing a paisley-print, belly-baring peasant blouse and a full-length denim dress that's a little too tight in the thigh area, making it a little hard for her to walk down the ramp to the front of the stage. Whose dumb idea was it to design the stage so that the performers all have to walk down an incline to get to The Octagon? It's almost as though they actually want somebody to fall down. Never mind, I think I just answered my own question.
Christina's singing, fortunately, has much less bleating than it normally does. But there's still just too much. Her voice does sound stronger than it has in the past, anyway. If she could just get rid of the vibrato, I'd probably actually enjoy listening to her. Her stage presence isn't much to speak of, particularly in comparison to the other female contestants. She just kind of stands there and rotates around to sing to various parts of the audience. Of course, I don't think she can go bouncing around the stage much in that dress, anyway. Out in the audience, Paula and Randy dance together while the rest of the audience stands and claps. Christina gets evergreen trees as her background graphic.
The audience continues to stand and cheer for Christina when she's done. Randy loved Christina's performance and her outfit. He asks her if she was nervous. She responds that the clapping crowd made her feel more comfortable. Paula says that Christina's a beautiful girl with tons of poise and quiet confidence. Why doesn't anybody ever talk about her singing? When they get to Simon, he admits that he has a "crush" on Christina, which explains why he doesn't ever seem to notice the flaws in her singing. Simon says that Christina's obviously such a nice person, and he hopes that she does well because it proves that "a nice person can be a pop star as well." Add another mark to the Contradictory Comments From Simon scorecard. Didn't he bitch that they were all too nice to each other? I guess Christina gets to be nice because Simon has a crush on her. And nobody commented on her singing at all.
Christina heads carefully up the ramp on the other side of the stage to Black and Decker's interviewing area. Black and Decker crack a stupid joke that Simon isn't a pop star because he's mean, and nobody laughs. In the interview, we find out that Christina has been getting sick as well, so there was more prayer and blah blah blah God saw her through. They ask if the kids have been "partying" or whatever. In his head, Brian imagines that Kelly passed on her illness to Christina through deep tongue-kissing. They have more time to fill, so Ryan says he wants to clarify something to Simon, who is no longer paying attention to anything happening on this lowly mortal plane. Ryan snarks that Simon's not watching, but Simon points out that there's no point watching anything Black and Decker is doing. Man, I wish I had that option. Also, Simon scratches his nose with just his middle finger, possibly flipping a bird right back at the boys. Again, whether it's intentional or not is a mystery. What Ryan wants to clarify is some gold metal straps that are peeking out of the top of Christina's jeans. Why is it so important that Simon watches this? It looks like tacky thong straps, but Christina explains that it's actually a belt -- her grandmother's belt. Why is she wearing it under her dress so that it pokes out over her hips? Aren't belts supposed to hold something up? ["Maybe it's a chastity belt." -- Sars] Ryan jokes that Simon made him ask about it, and nobody laughs.
We get one last clip show of the final performances. Some of the clips must have come from the dress rehearsals, because half the girls aren't even wearing make-up. We cut back to the stage, where all the kids are back on the floor, as Black and Decker encourage us all to vote, vote, vote! The kids in the audience start flipping open their cells and dialing, even though they're on the west coast, and supposedly won't be able to vote for three more hours. Stupid show. And in the dumbest ever sign-off on live television, Ryan spends the last five seconds of the show asking the kids in the audience if they got a signal on their phones. Couldn't you have waited until after they had gone off the air? It's not like that's something the viewing audience needed to know. Idiot.
Wednesday. Melodramatic Announcer warns us that "two dreams are about to end right now." Apparently the performers who are eliminated are then drawn and quartered by a team of horses, and their heads are affixed to a pike and displayed in the lobby of Simon's record label.
Credits. They have an audience just for the results show? How idiotic. Really, who wants to attend that? Black and Decker head out from the back of the stage to The Octagon of Judgment. They quickly introduce us to the ten finalists; they're sitting on couches on the left side of the stage where Black and Decker's interviewing alcove stood during the performances. EjAyy is wearing yet another silly newsboy cap.
Black and Decker explain that the voters made more than eight million calls, and claim that it was the third busiest day ever for AT&T's domestic long-distance network. For some reason, I find that news terribly sad. I'm not sure why. It's not like all the calls prevented more important calls from being made or anything. They remind us that two people will be cut from the finalists' ranks tonight. Only one guy in the audience even cares. The rest are hoping they'll be called up to bid on the price of set of skis in the hopes of winning the chance to play Plinko.
But before they get to the fifteen minutes of show padding before they actually cut somebody, Black and Decker have some awkward news to share. Last night, after the show had ended and the contestants were doing interviews, R.J. fell off the stage and hurt himself. Black and Decker downplay the injury and claim that R.J.'s "doing fine," but R.J.'s just sitting over on the couch trying like hell not to move anything. The rumor mill says that he sprained his back, which has never happened to me, but I imagine that it's a very, very unpleasant experience. It should put an end to his awkward onstage movements. Or any onstage movements, for that matter. The audience cheers for their brave little toaster of a contestant. Somebody holds up an "I [heart] R.J." sign. Black and Decker ask R.J. if he'll have the strength to perform week, assuming he isn't cut tonight. Oh, man, wouldn't that be cruel? Throws his back out and then gets cut the day? R.J. insists that he'll find the strength to perform. Brian tells R.J., "If your back still hurts after the show, I'll hook you up." Should I add "illegal use of prescription drugs" to Brian's growing list of likely vices?
Now that R.J.'s injury has been sufficiently glossed over, let's bring on the padding! They show clips from last night's performances again. For most of the contestants, they just show the performances; but they also show the judges' comments for Tamyra, Justin (Eeeeeeee!), Kelly, and Christina. Make of that what you will.
And now it's time to introduce the judges. There's a cardboard cut-out of Simon where Simon would usually be. Everybody pretends that this is normal. I've already started clenching my fists at the awful, unfunny scene that I instinctively know is going to be unfolding. Randy and Paula make unfunny comments about how somebody is "missing," and how this will allow Paula and Randy to "shine." Randy says that there's "a little less ego" on the sofa tonight. Yeah, well, I'm sure you and Paula have enough "bullshit" to spread around in its absence.
Then they get to "Simon." Brian says that Simon looks "a little stiff," and wonders if he's been hitting the Botox. I'm not sure if my television is going to survive this scene. I keep slapping the side and shouting, "Be more funny!" like Homer Simpson, but it's not working. Ryan points out to Brian that it's actually a cardboard cutout of Simon, in case the rest of us were too stupid to realize it. God, I hate these results shows. Brian wonders if Simon was deported. Thump! Be more funny! Ryan says they're not allowed to talk about why Simon isn't there because of "ratings or something." Is that some sort of acknowledgment that Simon is one of the show's big draws? Black and Decker decide to pretend that the cutout is the real Simon. Thump! Be more funny! Brian asks Simon how his hosting has been so far. "Simon" has a hinged mouth, and Paula leans over to play ventriloquist. She operates "Simon's" mouth from behind and, in a deep voice with an awful British accent, tells him, "Don't quit your day job." Thump! Be more funny! Brian says that this is his day job, and "Simon" suggests he switch to a night job. Thump! Be more funny! And look at a fucking clock, you nitwits. Day starts when the sun comes up, not when it goes down. Morons. Ryan asks "Simon" what he thinks of Ryan's fashions. "Simon" responds that he prefers Ryan's "beach muumuus, [his] fishnet stockings, [his] high heels." "Simon" adds, "And by the way, Ryan, once again, you left your panties at my place last night." Thump! Be more original! "Simon" tells Brian that he's beginning to like Brian's ass. Which one? The one he sits on, or the one that sits on his shoulders? Thump! Be more funny! And nobody likes Brian's ass, anywhere on earth. There should be a law against Brian's ass. Then Brian's creepy, violent tendencies come out as he walks over to "Simon" and knocks it on the floor. Then Randy's creepy, violent tendencies come out as he gives it a good kick. Then he and Paula dance around in celebration. Thump! Be more funny! Somebody in the audience manages to get possession of "Simon" after it's kicked off the stage, and keeps it. Black and Decker clarify that Simon's back home on business (and making sure that the British press is still talking about him) and will be back week. Paula mimics Simon saying mean things to the flight attendant about being unoriginal or whatever. Thump! Be more funny! I would rather be watching Road Rules right now, instead of these four morons. I would rather be watching Baby Bob, for God's sake. I'm surprised they don't call Simon in England to ask him if he's got Prince Albert in a can.
With that miserable nonsense over with, it's time to turn attention back to the actual performers. I never thought I'd miss looking at A.J., but after those last five minutes, I'd cling to him for dear life. Black and Decker point out that this is the last time the ten of them will all be together on the show, and asks if anybody slept last night. Brian creepily asks if any of the contestants slept together last night. Thump! Be less icky!
And it's back to the padding. Black and Decker explain to us about the five-story mansion the kids get to live in, and we see clips. There are thirteen bedrooms and thirteen bathrooms, but the kids end up having to share rooms for some reason. Black and Decker are there, too, making nuisances of themselves. Brian harasses the pool man. Thump! Be more funny! There's some unfunny bit where Ryan tosses dozens of rolls of toilet paper at Brian because he's such a piece of shit. Actually, he says it's for the thirteen bathrooms, but I prefer my explanation. The kids arrive, and cavorting ensues. There's a pool. There's a pool table. There's foosball. There are beds. Cavorting. Cavorting. And some more cavorting.
We come back to the stage so that Black and Decker can throw us to commercials before revealing who's going home. Brian flubs his lines and then jokes about being drunk. Ryan pretends to search him for a hidden flask as the send us off to commercial land. Thump! Be more funny!
When we return, finally we get to the first cut. You know, I thought they'd do this by revealing who was moving on in small groups, like three in the first section, another three after the commercial break, then revealing the two who would move on out of the final four. Not only is it less tacky, it essentially makes its own padding, and we don't have to deal with the awful skits so much. But no, we're just going to reveal who got the least amount of votes out of all ten. The kids all hold hands as Black and Decker drag it out for ten minutes before revealing that Ee-Jhaey got the least votes and will be sent home, thus ending another embarrassing crush for me, not to mention the challenge of trying to come up with new ways to spell his name.
E.Jay heads over to Black and Decker with a resigned smile for his final clip show before getting sent back to Mordor. EJay tells the camera he wants to be an American Idol because he's "unique" (well, that's certainly true) and has talent. The clip show reveals what a baffling, inexplicable journey EJay's had. He gets cut, then brought back in. For some reason, the judges all love his singing and he gets voted into the final ten by the viewers. But then the judges all loved his singing again last night, yet he gets the least votes of all? Very strange. He says that when he gets onstage, it's "either knock 'em dead, or don't knock 'em at all. Or knock 'em down and eat their faces." The kids all clap politely for him, except for R.J., whom I'm assuming must be in some real pain if he can't even clap. Black and Decker send EJay back to the mines. Maybe Gandalf will come rescue him and take him to a nice brunch somewhere.
Commercials. And then more commercials disguised as show content. It's time for the [product-placed] car shilling. Apparently each kid got the use of one of these cars "for the summer." They couldn't give them the cars to own? The things look like they cost about three dollars to manufacture. Cheapskates. The kids wash a car. There are water fights. Kelly and Ryan fight with a hose, and you just know that Brian's going to have those three seconds etched forever into his TiVo. The kids all get wet. Yay! Wet, nubile young adults! Black and Decker joke about getting copies of the tape. I shudder in horror.
It's time to find out who will be cut . But now they're changing formats. Rather than revealing who got the least votes out of the nine remaining finalists, they're going to reveal which two contestants got the least votes out of those who remain, thereby milking the tension even more and essentially handicapping the person who isn't ejected by causing them even more stress before his or her performance. The way it works is that Black and Decker are going to repeat comments from the judges' critiques for each candidate from the night, and then tell the candidate whether or not the voters agreed by calling in (or not calling in, as the case may be) for him or her. They're doing it in random order. Because I'm about to hit page infinity with this recap, I'll spare you the recap of Black and Decker recapping what the judges said. Kelly gets a thumbs-up from the judges and the voters. Jim, who is staring sullenly at Black and Decker, got a thumbs-down from the judges, and the voters. He's one of the potential rejectees. Continuing on, R.J., Christina, and Justin all get the big thumbs-up. Black and Decker get to Nikki, who is noisily chewing gum. The judges didn't really like her song choice. The voters didn't go for it either. She's the second potential rejectee.
Nikki and Jim both join Black and Decker up on The Octagon of Judgment. But before we find out which of them is going to be rejected, let's watch some commercials! How gutless is it that Ortho Tri-Cyclen has to indicate that all the couples in its birth-control pill commercial are married?
After about thirty commercials, we return for the final cut. Jim stares sullenly off into space. Nikki wears too much blue eye shadow and continues chewing her gum. She's wearing blue vinyl pants. Jim is wearing another sleeveless shirt. He kisses the side of Nikki's hair as Black and Decker drag out the moment. Finally, they reveal that Jim got what he wanted. People didn't give him the sympathy vote, so he's been cut. Nikki gives Jim a great big hug. Ryan Starr seems particularly affected by Jim's ejection. She's totally in tears.
Nikki heads back to the couch with the other kids as we get Jim's final clip show. Jim jumps into Host Ryan's arms when he's invited to Hollywood. Jim with his deaf parents. Jim with kids. Jim making it to the finals. Sad music plays like Jim just died of cancer. Poor Ee-dghay didn't even get the sad music.
Back at The Octagon, Black and Decker ask Jim if he has anything to say to his fans. He thanks them for "making [his] dreams come true." Yeah, I've had dreams of public humiliation, too, but I'd hardly thank the people who made it a reality. Black and Decker ask Jim what his best memory from the show was, and he responds, "There's nine of them, and they're all over there," as he gestures to the sofa. Of course, there's only eight over there, since EJay was whisked off by a Nazgul in the studio parking lot or whatever. Seriously, they don't even let him back on to say goodbye to the other finalists. Black and Decker ask the judges if they have any final words for Jim. Randy and Paula both encourage him to continue to grow. They let Jim go back over to the other kids and hug them goodbye. The other eight all crowd around Jim and give him big hugs. Justin (Eeeeeee!) gets terribly close to one of the holes in the stage, and Black and Decker warn them all to watch their step. Man, that must be one poorly designed set. They send us off with the sight of Ryan Starr hugging Jim for about an hour, and remind us that another elimination will take place week. See you then!