By Joe R
Amidst a rather heroic amount of filler designed partly to introduce us to the half dozen or so women we've never, ever seen before, the twelve female semifinalists perform songs of their choosing. Some chose better than others.
Just Mandisa sings Heart's "Never" and rocks that shit out. Seriously, Ann and Nancy are some sort of good omen nowadays because Mandisa just shot herself up to the top ranks. Kellie Pickler continues to push her hard luck story onto an oh-so-suspecting public, but she's also showing signs of incrementally pulling her shit together. She pulls a Carrie (I know, right?) and sings some Martina McBride, and it's not all that pleasant, but the judges lie to us about it anyway. On the bright side, Kellie spends the rest of the episode jamming to everyone else's performances, which was lovely to see.
A freshly McNamara/Troyed Becky O'Donahue sings "Because the Night," words and music by Miss Natalie Merchant of Jamestown, NY. It's awkward, but part of that is because the song -- much as I love it -- doesn't fit this show too well. Still, Becky's a lot of not good here and her face is suddenly deader than Paula's, as if that were even possible. Ayla Brown is seven feet taller than Seacrest and loses her upper lip when she smiles, but I still like her. She sings the traditional Japanese soul hit "Reflection" by Japanese Woman Warrior Mu-Lan, and she's very good. And the judges take a rest this week from their campaign to sandbag her at every turn, so a good night for Ayla all around.
Paris Bennett continues to let her hair zig while we all zag. Meanwhile, she sings "Midnight Train to Georgia" (written and recorded by Carol and Mike Seaver in that one episode of Growing Pains that I still remember) with a ton of enthusiasm, including no less than fourteen "choo-choo!" arm motions. Girl's a performer, and the judges eat it up. Stevie Scott has a voice that blows right past me, and I know a lot of people find her wonderful -- my lovely and talented co-recapper among them -- but I don't like anything I hear her sing in her Melinda-Lira-proof video package. She sings a Josh Groban funeral song and it is high-pitched homicide the entire time. She's totally going home on Thursday. I'm sorry, Jacob!
Brenna Gethers is an absolute nightmare of a human being, as you all know, but she tries to fool us into thinking otherwise with the phantasmalogically boring song choice of "You Are the Sunshine of My Life," originally written by Anwar Robinson, or at least it should have been. So to make up for singing us what is essentially a minute-and-a-half excuse to check and see just what the preferred pronunciation of Irina Slutskaya is, Brenna and Simon decide to perform a one-act play of their own making in which not one second is authentically true. Heather Cox, Melissa McGhee, and Kinnik Sky are all the same doomed person and neither their newfound back-stories nor their boring as sin performances (Heather sings the fucking Tsingle, people) are going to change that.
Lisa Tucker is in no way sixteen years old and sings Jennifer Holliday with a lot of eyebrows and is judge-approved. Kat McPhee sings a song that was originally a multi-artist collabo between Bjork, Otis Redding, and Dave Brubeck, and I'm not sure what the song is all about, but what Kat is all about is being awesome. I like her more and more each week. And she gets the pimp spot and the judges adore her, so she ain't going anywhere for the time being.
So, predictions: Heather and Stevie will be eliminated on Thursday, unless Melissa McGhee's self-fulfilling prophecy of no screen time comes true for her, and I really hope it does. Oh, and I also predict that Paula will never be as chemically out of it as she was on this night. Girlfriend was looped.
Tomorrow: Jacob gets the Dawg Pound and continues to hoard every single second of Will Makar screen time.
In the beginning, there were the Winter Olympics. Well, not exactly in the beginning, but a long time ago. Like when Taylor Hicks was merely a teenager. But so historically no one ever really gave a damn about the Winter Games, at least not in this country, even though I seem to recall I was pretty psyched about the games in 2002, though I cannot for the life of me recall why because this year the only thing I could be bothered to care about was the princessy awesomeness of Johnny Weir. Anyway. The lone exception to this trend of profound not caring has always been women's figure skating, with its rich traditions of East German femmes fatale and American trailer park felons. So even though American Idol has its own history of crushing time-slot competitors into tiny little cubes, the fear of the red-hot drawing power of the figure skaters convinced the folks at FOX to cram every spare second of their schedule with AI to compete. The upshot: five hours of programming, two nights of two-hour performance shows, a one hour results show, and enough filler to rival...well, NBC's coverage of the Winter Olympics, actually. In a related story: Jacob, Sars, and I are looking to smack a bitch over at the FOX offices.
Ryan's standing on a balcony that is new to the semifinals studio (right?). It's actually the RC Cola anteroom with the one wall ripped out so it overlooks the stage now. I really like it, mostly because watching how the contestants act while one of their own is performing is maybe my favorite part of semis. Who's being fake? Who's being less fake? Who's being only a little bit fake? Who's being Constantine? Ryan explains the process of this round to us (two nights of performances, separated by gender, fans call in and vote; on Thursday, two men and two women with the lowest votes will be gone) and says we're doing it "ladies first" this week, like it's chivalry and not a shrewd marketing move to neutralize the Sasha Cohen fan base.
Then: a decade of filler. Honestly. Ryan makes a joke about crying cowboys and the Brittenum twins -- because yeah, we're the assholes for caring about that stuff when that was literally all that aired a week ago -- and then introduces the twelve women set to compete tonight. They've all clearly been instructed to walk past the camera, smile, and wave. And I certainly hope the boys will be expected to do the same, lest this all turn into some A League of Their Own "a lady reveals nothing" sexist bullshit. Of note: Becky O'Donahue has had Botox and/or has completely forgotten what to do with her face when there's a camera on it; Ayla Brown needs to stuff some tissue under her upper lip like that one bird-faced girl on Top Model Cycle Four; and Brenna Gethers knows exactly what she's doing at all times. Ryan then intros the Dawg Pound, which is so funny because more than half of them were not even alive to remember Arsenio Hall. Then the judges and Ryan go the "Know Your Current Events" route by bringing up how mean Simon has been this season. I love when they do this shit. It's like they're holding a press conference in the middle of the show. Even if Simon's answers consist of content-free smug expressions and Paula's answers are content-free bewildered gibberish. If it's good enough for the White House, you know? Anyway, Ryan and Simon go as follows: banter, banter, Brokeback, banter. Ryan does note how uncommonly harsh Paula has been this season -- which I do think is probably accurate -- and Paula is the most coherent she will be for the two hours when she says that nowadays "everyone in the audience is a critic," and then she and Simon bicker about that being his line and she's already turning her back to him, which is among my favorite Paula Tics (see what I did there?) because it's very pre-school "if I don't see you, you're not real." Randy says this year's Idol will be a "boy," which is what he says every year, I think. But this year it's true because Ace is totally winning.Done with the filler yet? Oh no. Because now we have to remind ourselves "how the girls got here." This is dumb in several ways, because it's just a series of clips of various girls walking in and out of auditions, without any real dialogue or singing or any story progression at all. So unless you've already been watching all season, none of this makes sense to you. But if you've been watching all season, why the hell would you need the video package? And then? Commercials.
Kellie's going to be singing "How Far?" by Martina McBride (of course), and she says she knows the song is supposed to be about an "intimate love relationship," but since she's never had one of those before, she's going to think about the relationship she has with her dad. That sounds squicky, but from the few lyrics I hear ("how far do I have to go to make you understand / I want to make this work so much it hurts"), I can see where she's coming from. It's sad. And if the show wasn't mercilessly shoving it down my throat, I'd probably be pretty moved by it. The performance isn't very good. There are good parts to it, but her voice keeps trying to climb up to where it needs to be and it's not making it. She continues to shake her head back and forth constantly, but her aimless arm movements are getting more under control, so you don't notice how awkward she is anymore. ["Leaving us free to focus on her hypnotizingly inbred eyes-too-close-together issue." -- Jacob] She's also noticeably less nervous, which is a big step. Still, when the judges sugar-coat the hell out of their critiques, like they do right now, it comes off like total lies. We know they're selling her and her "likeability factor." Honestly, Paula says "personality" about a thousand times. Simon repeats his "nice girl" comment from her audition. The underbelly of what the judges are saying, however, is "your vocals are pretty mediocre, hon, so you'd best keep dedicating songs to your childhood trauma." Which is gross.
Kellie's Ryan Time is spent telling stories of Grandpa Pickler and how the women in town all want to make him sandwiches. Ryan I don't think can ever laugh authentically, which makes this pre-packaged story seem even more so. I think Kellie is wearing an Aztec sun on her shirt. Or maybe a Mayan sun. Lord knows I can't tell Central American indigenous religious symbols apart. Anyway, Kellie says "Pick Pickler" again, like that's a catch phrase that will do anything but annoy the piss out of people.Ryan and Becky are back in the RC Cola Lounge, and I swear to you her face has this plastic sheen to it. She was way gorgeous up until now, but she's having a moment here where...maybe it's because her mouth actually turns down when she smiles. Maybe that's what's giving me this "face waging war against itself" feeling. I still like her, but I worry. We learn her sister's name is Jessie. They don't make out or anything. Yet. So Becky's singing "Because the Night." Which...who wrote that song again? I can't recall the several dozen emails I got about it. People, I already knew. Trust me. Becky says this song was on the first CD she ever owned, and that same thing is true for me as well, so Becks and I have a thing now. She doesn't say which album, so it may well not have been the 10,000 Maniacs Unplugged album like mine was ["She sings it an awful lot like Patti Smith, but...that could just be a symptom of whatever makes her sing like that, so zero sum." -- Jacob], but that version was an obsession of mine forever even if I never did figure out all of the words, what with the crazy spinning and all. "In a vase until the morning comes"? The hell does that mean? Between Natalie Merchant and Tori Amos, it's a wonder I ever understood a lyric at all in my youth. And if you ever managed to dig past the slurry delivery, you wound up at songs about "back when I had my out-of-body experience among the women of the gold rush..."
Ayla is really good with the song. Probably the best she's been on the show, but I like her already. The teeth-bared smile is still kind of frightening, but everything else is working for her: the voice, the emotion, the crowd. You can see Kellie up in the balcony intensely singing along, which is cute. Ayla comes close to blowing the last big note, but she pulls it out. The song is perfect for this show, because it's all about "This is me and I'm turning into my own unique, special person, and watch me hit this high note!" The judges are nice to Ayla and don't start any bullshit about how she's privileged and has everything and will throw a basketball right at Pickler's face if you don't watch out. They're all like "we thought you'd suck and you didn't! Yay!" Paula likes how she added vulnerability to the performance, and then she pauses for a hundred years while she thinks of something else to say, and when she can't, she just repeats herself. Ayla says she used the judges' criticism from back in Boston to improve herself. She says, "I've got a lot to work on," in this matter-of-fact way. I kind of love her. Simon says she's a hard worker (true) and that there's a limit to where her voice can go (also true), but this week she shed her robotic tendencies. Wee Seacrest gets Ayla to admit how she had a Fedorov moment with the song -- you know, how it touched her soul and connected with her on a deep emotional level and is actually the story of her life. Paris sets up her video journey with her hair in Princess Leia buns. So I guess the SuperWeave3000 from the AI website didn't take? Do you think Jay Manuel tried and tried to convince her to keep it in? Anyway, Paris's journey was riddled with family members and crying. I love how everyone's getting boiled down to one trait tonight. Much easier to keep track of. The song is "Midnight Train to Georgia," which is where she's from so the "family" theme makes sense. The hair in the performance is different yet again. Feathered like you would not believe. A lot of posters said "Tootie from Facts of Life," and that's totally appropriate, even if I did go with "early seasons Vanessa from The Cosby Show," personally. Damn, this girl is bouncy. And I don't mean in the "wardrobe malfunction" way, even though Paula will eventually go there. I just mean Paris is hoppin' all around the stage and bouncing in place and making the "choo-choo" motion a hundred times. It's a lot of fun. She plays to the Dawg Pound and the Suffragette City balcony, alternately. Will Makar is having the most fun of anyone. He's so great. Paris is very theatrical, and I wonder when Simon's going to mention that. She's very into pointing at people, be it Will and Kevin in the Dawg Pound or the viewers at home. Randy can't seem to get off the subject of her lineage, ever, and is enthusiastic. The guys LOVE her. I'm digging how, in this season full of Heather Coxes and Becky O'Donahues, the sixteen-year-old guys who populate the male half of this competition are all madly in love with teeny little Paris. Paula notes the "show-woman" stuff, and she and Simon both arrive at the "Fantasia" point. Simon pulls out "the likeability factor" again, though this time it's for a good performance. Ryan points out to Paris that Kevin is totally in puppy love with her, and then he asks about her diary. Girl Talk with Ryan Seacrest, everyone!
Oh, so before Stevie's Ryan Time is done, he makes a note about how, yet again, we have a girl who is taller than he is. Poor wee Ryan. The entire world is an affront to his masculinity. So, this is scripted, but he turns to her and says, "I'm taller than Tom Cruise." To which Stevie responds, as written, "You might have a chance with me." I absolutely thought she said, "You might have a chance with him," which would have qualified for official "would've been funny if it were off-the-cuff" status. Not to mention the neutron bomb of meta that went off the second Ryan uttered Cruise's name. Isn't Ryan who Tom Cruise would be without the self-loathing and creepy religion? I mean, Ryan's got self-loathing, but it's mostly of the "I'm never not cheesy" sort, not the "well, would a fag star in an action blockbuster? I bet they wouldn't!" sort.
Ryan shouts out to the Dawg Pound and Chris and Ace are, of course, practically in each other's laps. Then he brings out Brenna, who is looking slightly less Fauxsario Dawson than she usually does. He mentions how she's always posing and in response, she poses. I like that she doesn't think she's being cute. She thinks she's being a diva. A bad diva, like how they used to talk about Whitney Houston before we all started feeling guilty for making fun of such a wretch. Well, the royal "we." Lord knows I'll still bust out a "show me the receipts" or "poor people smoke crack" joke, but I'm mean like that. Brenna's video package reminds us of her awful ass. "Bling bling and shine on!" I did sort of love that part. Brenna's got me twisted, because she's repellant but also crazy entertaining. She's always selling: tonight she wants to show her softer side, so she'll be singing Stevie Wonder's "You Are the Sunshine of My Life." Yak. She starts soft-focusing about growing up poor and how her middle name is Mima, as in "me" and "ma," who was all she had. Ha! Suck on that, Pickler. Brenna totally just made that up on the spot. She's dedicating this song to her mom, because she's diabolical. This is an awful song, regardless, and Brenna manages to sing it even worse. Sometimes she sounds like she's voicing a Jim Henson character. Like when you want to do a Kermit the Frog impression so you talk out the back of your throat? Like that. It's mostly just a boring song, and it would have been a completely disastrous choice if it had not served to set up what's to come. Randy hates the song choice, as he should, and also says that he doesn't want Brenna messing with any of this "nice" crap. You're an asshole and you should act like it! Paula disagrees, because she's not in on Brenna's secret plan to earn a "get out of jail free" card. She thinks the softening was necessary. You're an asshole, but pretend you're not! Brenna seems to like Randy's line of thinking (funny, as it was her line of thinking all along) and promises to "give 'em something to talk about." (Randy: "That woulda been a good song.") Simon gets it more than anyone, because not only does he tell her to be the jerk she naturally is, but he also gives her a wide opening to show off when he says "that was completely and utterly horrible." Brenna: attitude. Brenna (to audience): "Yeah, y'all can boo!" Audience: "[Boo!]" Brenna: neck swivel. Simon says she's like a wild cat with gloves on. Randy: "And a coat." Simon: "And a hat." Paula (sotto voce): "And a muzzle." Everybody, now! Simon's like "muzzle?" and Paula immediately retracts and acts offended, like she never said it (cells just regenerated again). Simon calls it a performance you'd see in a "ghastly hotel." Paula's now in on it, too, because she tells Brenna to lay into Simon. Brenna: "No, it was not a ghastly hotel performance, Simon. It was a different side. And if you want me to bring the claws back out, they will come back out!" And then she makes a hissing-cat noise and pantomimes clawing Simon's face. Had me right up until there, honey. The hissing was too much. Otherwise, I thought it was a brilliant orchestration by Simon, Brenna, all of them, to get her to the point where her personality disorder has become an imperative.