Okay, first things first: Sundance has a fauxhawk, and Sanjaya's been menaced by a flat iron. Thank the good lord Phil decided to wear a hat tonight. As for the performances, Blake bums me out, to start, by (1) going into costume as a redneck improv character he plays, and (2) by telling us 311 is his favorite band. But then he manages to make me like his performance of 311's "All Mixed Up," and even though Randy and Paula have never heard of the numbers 3 or 11, Simon assures me Blake's a lock for Top 12. I'm less sure, but okay! Sanjaya's special talent is the hula, and at the very least he tries to bring a little more energy to John Mayer's "Waiting on the World to Change." It's still a non-event, but I think the weird hair and hula might have been enough to put a dent in those votes if Simon would've effing shut up about the weird hair and the hula, you know? Sundance sings Pearl Jam's "Jeremy," which has no business getting dragged onto this show. Chris R. takes a break from being awesome so he can be boring for a week, singing some weak Keith Urban song. On the bright side, his voice sounds pretty. Jared sings Stevie Wonder. Dressed in argyle. If this doesn't send him home, I'm not sure what will. Particularly when even Paula is giving him cogent criticism. Brandon sings that "I just want to celebrate another day of living" song, and he's great, as always, but Simon and I are awful nervous about what's in store for him on Thursday. And then Ryan offers to let Brandon blow him for a place in the Top 12. I don't know! It happened! Phil steals the exact same "secret" that Chris had last year ("Pssst! I wasn't always bald!") and then sings Lee Ann Rimes's "I Need You." And despite sounding like a drag Toni Braxton at the beginning with the low notes, he brings it home with the power notes. The judges ding him in all the right spots (!!), and Simon absolutely hated it. Sligh sings yet another song from a band the judges have never heard before, and this time it IS a Christian band. So my religio-racial profiling only had a two week lag. He manages to look convincingly nervous even though he's totally safe. Meanwhile, Ryan and Simon are once again engaged in a fierce hour-long battle of "No, you're a homo!" Emphasis on fierce! Going home? Jared and...Brandon. Damn it.
Ryan Seacrest starts talking about...whatever he talks about before the credits. Rules and regs. Programming notes. His theories on Anna Nicole's death. Let's be honest, none of us are really listening anyway. But as he's talking, and the camera pans up the staircase past the top eight guys, we learn the following things in rapid succession: Phil Stacey is wearing Henry Fonda's hat from On Golden Pond. Jared is wearing a beige argyle sweater like he's come to meet your parents. Sundance has molded his hair into a fauxhawk, which does a lot of things for his appearance -- none of them good -- but mostly just makes his face look fatter. Blake is wearing a short-sleeved tee that's making him look quite delicious indeed. But you probably don't recall any of that because OH MY GOD SANJAYA FLAT-IRONED HIS HAIR! We will get into this later, but suffice it to say, if you don't have one woman in your life whose hair is exactly like Sanjaya's right now, you are in the distinct minority. This is American Idol.
"We're live," says Ryan Seacrest, and as is usually the case on this show, I distrust the factual accuracy of what he's saying. Ryan introduces us to the boys, but I've already told you everything you need to know about them so far, so let's just keep it moving. Then we meet the Girl Pound and the judges. Randy has his name on his shirt, Paula's dressed like a flowery pirate, and Simon's back in his signature dusky gray. Ryan (stubble alert level: yellow) tells us why this is a big week -- we're announcing our Top 12 finalists, and also on Thursday we're going to hear about the Big Idol Event the producers have been threatening us with for two months. My mind immediately goes to how many more hours of recapping this is going to add to the workload, because I know how this show rolls. A day-long Idol marathon or 24/7 internet live feeds or something. But we'll get to the nuts and bolts of that on Thursday's show. For now, because FOX has only budgeted a mere hour tonight, we're kicking things to Blake.
The ever-stupid and arbitrary Better Know An Idol talking point this week is "Things You May Not Know About Me." Pity folks like Nicole Tranquillo and Amy Krebs are already gone -- I would have been nice to see them answer with "What my face looks like" or "What I'm doing here all of a sudden." What we don't know about Blake? "I love improv comedy, character acting, and Halloween is the best time of the year for me." Wow. Lot of information to digest there. I mean, I love improv comedians, of course, but there's a whole lot of real estate between Marilyn Hack and Agent Michael Scarn, and when Blake ducks out of frame and pops back up with goofy false teeth, a sideways trucker hat, and a greasy black wig, I'm leaning towards the latter. This would be "Jimmy Walker Blue," one of Blake's "characters" that he plays. Okay! Here's what we're gonna do. We're going to file that one way, way, way in the back, in a bin labeled "things we'll forgive you for just because you're awesome," along with Buffy Season 7, Monica Lewinsky, and Billy Crudup dumping a pregnant Mary-Louise Parker for Claire Danes. Never do that again, though, Blake. For serious.
Down on the stage, Blake's embarking on something else I'm going to have to forgive him for: 311's "All Mixed Up." Whatever, I have this knee-jerk reaction against 311, and I'm not entirely sure why, but it is very real. Although I do approve of their "kicking Scott Stapp's ass" policy. The production guys give Blake this cool echo effect, which is nice. And he's bouncing all around, which is also nice, because apparently all the guys I like this year are bouncers. He self-censors with some vocal entendres when it comes to "get off of your ass," which means Blake even makes kowtowing to the FCC fun and enjoyable. Randy loves how "current" Blake is, with "the whole hip-hop kinda reggae thing." Gettin' warmer, Jackson. He says he didn't even recognize the song, but it was "hot" regardless. Paula says she didn't know the song either. Hey, Randy and Paula? It's called 1996. It's also called a radio. Familiarize yourselves with these artifacts accordingly. Paula stayed interested, regardless, because it's Blake, and keeping you interested is what he does. Blake's like, "311? Might've heard of them? Pop-ska invasion of '96? Poor man's Sublime? Ringing a bell?" To no avail, of course. "I didn't understand a word you were saying," laughs Simon, and Blake laughs as well. Simon speaks some truth, though, when he says that the most important thing you can do at this stage of the competition is stand out from the crowd, and Blake's doing that quite well. "You will 100% be here week," he finishes. At the time, I wanted to believe him, but I had my reservations. Teach me to doubt Mister Simon Cowell, I tell you what.
Ryan takes the stage and clarifies that it was indeed a 311 song we just heard. He asks why Blake chose it. "Favorite band," Blake says. "Of all time?" Ryan asks, with a touch of incredulity that I can totally get behind. "Of all time," Blake confirms. Oh, Blake. That's another one for the forgetting bin, and it's gotten pretty damn full in the last five minutes. After the break, Ryan promises us, we'll be hearing some John Mayer and some Pearl Jam from Sanjaya and Sundance. That's the scariest thing I've ever heard.
After the break, Ryan's in the RC Cola Lounge between the two follicular monstrosities right now. Ryan asks Sundance's fauxhawk about all the crying he got up to last week. Sundance tries to pass the buck to Chris R., but then he admits to not being someone you'd want to watch Charlotte's Web with. Assuming we're not speaking of the Dakota Fanning version, I feel him, except there's a hell of a lot of difference between Charlotte's Web and Alaina Alexander. Ryan adds, "Or any Hugh Grant film," which is such a weird thing to say that even Sundance refuses to co-sign it. Stop revealing your bizarre private life to us, Seacrest. We are resolute in our not wanting to know. "Simon likes to think that's artificial emotion," says Ryan, "and it's only for the cameras." Sundance claims to not know the cameras were on him, which is...less than believable. Downstairs, Simon rolls his eyes, because emotions make him sick. Ryan then turns to Sanjaya's Rachel Hair and asks if he's surprised he's still around, considering last week he was ready to run screaming into the streets at the thought of another week of ridicule. He seems to say that that feeling has passed. I am, again, not very convinced.
Sanjaya's super-secret video tells us that he can dance the hula. Initially, the recaplet said that Sanjaya could hula-hoop, a mistake on my part that I think is understandable, since I averted my eyes during this while segment. Sanjaya's hips are none of my business, nor are they the business of America. He lived in Hawaii for four years, let's leave it at that. Onstage, Sanjaya's chosen to sing John Mayer's "Waiting On The World To Change," a song that's nice enough, or so I've gathered from the three seconds I hear before I switch to something else. There's nothing about Sanjaya that's halfway as interesting as Mayer's inexplicable puffy-faced charm or tabloid-baiting Jessica Simpson romance. Instead, we're left with the usual mix of boring proficiency and low-energy blandness. You can tell he's trying harder to do something interesting, and it's easily his best performance so far, but it's still stuck in the middle-school talent show. And losing to the trampy ninth-grade girls dancing to "Ain't No Other Man." They're not even lip-synching!
Even as Randy says this was a better performance than last week, he knows how ridiculous he sounds, because how could it not be? He cites a lack of the kind of energy they saw in him back in...auditions? Hollywood? Somewhere along the line. Paula is at an utter loss, and ever since she's pulled herself together, that's no longer a euphemism for "doped up beyond the point of comprehension." She makes note of the fact that all the guys are at least fifteen years older than he is, and says he really needs to work on getting better. Somehow. Simon...well, here's where Simon blows it. Provided you think he wants Sanjaya to be eliminated, and I choose to think he does. He starts out well enough, saying Sanjaya wasn't as bad as last week. If he'd have left it at that, he might have worked up the reverse juju you need in a situation like this. But no, because then he brings up the flat-ironed "Paula hair" and "hula-hooping" (that's where I got that from!) and how weird it all is. And it is weird. And I think if Simon had left it alone, America would have found it weird on their own terms. Now that he's mentioned it -- and even though Sanjaya looks like he's got a sense of humor about it -- they're going to be moved to rush to his aid. Again. Simon should know this by now. Ryan can't make it to the stage fast enough so he can start talking about hair. He points to Sanjaya's hair and Paula's hair and says they're "very different." "One of the two has extensions," he continues, "I'm not sure which one." The judges find this very funny, and Ryan basks in their approval.
Sundance's super-secret video is just a bunch of bullshit about how he's secretly thin and he just dons a fat suit when he takes the stage. Like, ha ha, he didn't really tell us anything. Look, Tubby, I don't care that you're fat. So am I. So's America. But part of the deal when you sign up for this show is that you put your ass on display (figuratively) for all of America to discuss and ridicule and talk about when they should be working. And if you're not at least going to give us one genuine thing about yourself that we can laugh at on morning radio or The Soup or whatever, then what good are you?
Down on the stage, more bad shit is going down. We'd already been threatened with Pearl Jam, and I got a little queasy, because they don't belong on this show. Not because they're so awesome (they are, or at least they were in the permanent 1993 I sometimes live in) but because you look like too much of a moron singing their songs on karaoke. That's like the Bob Dylan people. Blow this in the wind, dickhole, I want some "Bette Davis Eyes"! But I thought at least there were some Pearl Jam songs you could sing here and maybe make it out with your dignity intact. The one about the elderly woman in a small town selling cigarettes and memories. But: no. Sundance is singing "Jeremy." The one about the kid who kills his classmates. Sundance self-censors the lyric about "seemed a harmless little punk." I'm pretty sure I'm offended. This is offensive. Partly because it's so dumb. Yeah, call upon grunge nostalgia in order to better sell yourself to the teenage people who vote for this show. Can't lose! Also, he sounds like shit. Also also? It's "King Jeremy the Wicked ruled his world," not "ruined his world," you fucking moron! Sorry, normally I don't care much about Sundance one way or another, but this shit is just embarrassing for everyone, including me.
Randy notes the numerous pitch problems, but then opts for the lie that Sundance "put [his] Southern rock spin on a Pearl Jam joint." That is an untruthitude, your honor. (Sorry, I've been on jury duty all week, so it's been nothing but legalese at home as a result. person who hears me say "strike that" gets a free slap in.) Paula Paulas about how midway through, Sundance kicked it to his "Sundance thing," which is his "unique quality," which I think is the same thing as his special purpose, but I don't want to think about that right now. Simon saves my sanity by saying he didn't like it as much as last week. He says Sundance lost his charm and became a "very generic bar singer." He didn't like the song either, which was a total given. That song has got to be everything Simon has ever hated. Sundance shakes a finger at Simon and goes, "One of these days!" Like Simon didn't just praise him last week. Shut up, Sundance. Ryan takes the stage and asks if Simon is saying Sundance should stay away from all rock songs. Not all rock songs, says Simon, just the ones that depress the shit out of him personally and aren't also shouty. Meanwhile, Ryan's pointing to Randy for a rebuttal, and Simon goes, "You're not Larry King!" Because I guess Larry King...points at people when he wants them to speak? OH! Speaking of which, who saw the old Idol kids on Larry King this week? Diana DeGarmo, Bucky Covington, and Elliott. Which is scary enough in its own right, but combine that with Elliott's new look? Hand to God, I didn't recognize him for a full five minutes. Teeth capped, beard left wild and untended, hair hilariously afro'd out...'70s-era Don Henley would totally approve. Anyway, Ryan gives his best Larry King impression, which is the same as everyone else's ("Caller, you're on!"), and kicks it to commercial.
When we come back, Ryan chats with Travis Tritt, who's in the audience for some FOX-related self-promotion or another, I would assume. Or...oh, Randy Jackson's producing his album. Thrilling. Chris Richardson is , and his super-secret video says that he used to be a big ol' fatty. Only totally not. He played football, he was thicker, but the facts in evidence (see? Slap me.) do not support the claim that Chris was in any way fat. There's one photo taken from, like, under his chin where he looks a little jowly, but come on. He was as delicious forty pounds ago as he is today. Unfortunately, delicious or no, he's chosen to sing a Keith Urban song tonight, which means it's time for me to start thinking about things other than this show right now. Groceries I need to buy...movies to add to my Netflix list...how I'm going to remind myself to switch the clocks this weekend...Social Security. Stripped of all his usual excitability, Chris is instead tethered to a stool. The song's super-boring, and his voice isn't built to make it any less so. The bright side is that the quiet allows him to work on this very gentle tone that, while not note-perfect, is undeniably pretty. I think he's played his fan base exactly right with his song choices these last three weeks. The theme weeks are gonna be a bitch for him, and ultimately his downfall, but so far, so good.
Randy also likes the way Chris switched it up this week. He says each week Chris shows up and puts the boys on blast. "This kid is in it to win it!" Keep making Chris smile like that, Jackson, and we'll be just fine. Paula says Chris "adapted well" and that his voice is suited to the "pop country" style. Look, lady, I've said many times that I am happy that you've managed to pull yourself together, if for no other reason than we don't need CNN taking 24 hours of breaking news coverage to cover your dramatic overdose. But you are giving me nothing to work with as a recapper these days. Can you at least go back to dressing like a homeless stripper? Or randomly crying? I don't need you falling down or anything, but I can just come back every other week and marvel at how there's no drool at all on your blouse. Help me out, Paula. Simon seems to have fallen into the "good not great" camp, which I think is fair. "Not the best vocal," he says, and kind of "cutesy," and his voice was a bit nasally. Hi, Simon, this is Chris. He's very pleased to meet you. Simon doesn't think we've heard the best of Chris yet, which is a compliment if you think on it for two seconds, and while it was "timid and safe," Chris "sold it."
Ryan takes the stage and opines that Simon shouldn't be using words like "cutesy." Because "cutesy" has apparently been classified as a verboten "pink" word in The Trying To Pass Handbook. Meanwhile, Ryan wants to know how Chris lost all that weight, and rather than say, "By bouncing around like a goofball like I've been doing for three weeks," Chris is instead interrupted by Simon, who thinks Ryan should not be asking sensitive questions about people's weight. Or something. But he's using the same tone of voice he used back when he was warning Ryan to stop undressing Will Makar, which is confusing. Does Simon think discussing weight loss is untoward? Or does he sense that Ryan's about half a step away from feeling Chris's six-pack and wants to ward off any danger? Ryan finally says, "Let the old man judge; let the young man interview," which seems to satisfy Simon just fine. They are the weirdest two people on television.
Back up on the balcony, Ryan's talking to Jared about the Jared Cotter Sex Face and how "people are talking" about it. Oh, totally. I can't go to the corner to buy a coffee without someone asking me my opinion of the Jared Cotter Sex Face. So then Ryan turns to Sligh, Blake, and Brandon, and they all wipe their hands down their faces a la Jared. Blake actually gets into it, like, licking his finger and everything. Maybe the problem with the Jared Cotter Sex Face is Jared himself. Jared's super-secret is that he used to play college basketball, for a Division II team he doesn't name. We see footage of him on an outdoor court, and while he stands tall among Lilliputians like Seacrest and Sundance, he can only barely dunk a basketball, so it's no great shock to know that he gave up hooping to try his hand at singing and making ooky faces into various cameras.
Down on the stage, Jared's chosen to switch it up and bring something new to American Idol: Stevie Wonder's "If You Really Love Me." I have officially stopped feeling sorry for anyone who gets eliminated after singing a Stevie Wonder song, so this strikes me as rather good news: a guilt-free Jared elimination. Nice! Not to mention that infernal beige argyle sweater, which is just double-bagging it at this point. No one, I repeat no one, feels bad when the guy in the argyle gets the boot. Oh, I forgot, "it's a singing competition," so I suppose I should talk about that: it's boring. Boring as any Stevie Wonder song we've heard on this show. He's poison, people! And yet they keep coming back for more. Randy, as per his contract, says he was nervous about Jared stepping on the hem of Stevie's garment, but he thought Jared did a pretty good job with it. Paula starts by saying this is just her opinion, but Jared needs to work on "coloring up" the way he sings, that he doesn't need to just power through the song, but to do some different things with it. HOLY SHIT! Paula just gave a negative opinion independent of the other judges! Directed to a GUY! Has this ever happened before? Strike what I said about Paula three paragraphs ago, I am so proud of her. Who would have thought, when she was tipping off stools on Poughkeepsie local news and falling asleep at the judges' table during auditions that she'd have rebounded like this? Of course, we'll spend all season waiting for the other shoe to drop, but that's half the fun of this show anyway.
Simon looks askance at Paula, and I'm worried that he's going to give her shit for being negative and send in her a shame spiral that will inexorably end at the bottom of a bottle of Beefeater, but thankfully that's not what he says. He says he can almost make out what Paula's trying to say, shockingly enough (we're with you there, dude), because Jared's performance "wasn't very original." He says a performance like this gets "lost in the shuffle," and while Jared is popular, he was "disappointing." No "wow factor" is the final verdict. Ryan hops up and asks Paula if, despite what she said, Jared deserves to be in the Top 12. She considers it for a second and very carefully says, "So far, yes." That's certainly going out on a limb, considering "so far" we've only seen five contestants. Randy is equally cagey about placing Jared in the top 12, but Paula stands by her feeling that Jared needs to pick it up quite a bit. Jared says "if he's around week," he'll be sure to work on that. I'd start holding my breath, if I were him.
After the commercial, we're back upstairs with Brandon and Phil. Ryan points out that the judges have been "underwhelmed" thus far tonight. What are their ideas for combating this trend? Brandon, in his white Members Only jacket, is essentially planning on doing his best and crossing his fingers. I think if we could transfer some of Chris Sligh's canniness to Brandon, he might be a lot better off. Ryan asks Phil about how he stays loose or some similar meaningless crap, and Phil's like, "I love the judges! Passionately!" Ryan detests this kind of suck-uppage and asks Phil for his true opinion, and if you remember how ingratiating Phil was with the judges two weeks ago, you know we're in for some bullshit answer about how the judges are always right and he wants them all to love him. I like Phil and all, but that's a shtick you want to play once. "Pretending" to act like a suck-up doesn't really work when that's all you do. Then you just actually become a suck-up.
Brandon's super-secret is that he's a "classical piano player," even though the clip we see is of him playing a keyboard. Not that it matters, because it makes Brandon even more awesome no matter what. Love a guy who can play piano. Onstage, Brandon's chosen to sing that song from a band whose name I could just look up, but I won't. You know the song, the one that goes "I just want to celebrate another day of living..." It's a more exciting song than Brandon's chosen the last two weeks, but I'm not sure how much more exciting. This is one of those songs you figure you've heard a million times anyway, so it's not anything special. And I think the worst thing about it is that it's not a vocal showcase, which has been the actual chief criticism of Brandon thus far, more so than the low-key songs. We know he has a powerful voice, we just haven't been able to hear that power yet. Randy loves the song, and despite some weirdness at the end, he thought it was solid. Paula thought it was a great deal better than that, dubbing it "phenomenal" and saying he's now proving why he's on this show. I don't think he's there quite yet, but I sympathize with Paula's wishful thinking.
Simon...okay, well first Simon calls him "Travis," which certainly does nothing to add any credibility to what he's about to say. Unfortunately, he's kind of correct when he says Brandon hasn't "represented himself" well thus far. He clearly thinks Brandon's a phenomenal singer and is frustrated that he hasn't stepped up and really shown it yet. And, most importantly, he thinks that song may "give [him] a problem this week." If I'm being honest, I thought the same thing. I thought he was a goner. I guess Simon's words here woke up whatever fan base Brandon has. Paula's super-giddy to Simon, all, "I thought you were great, Brandon. For Brandon is your name, Brandon." Ryan, thank Christ, doesn't pick up on the Travis thing at all, so we're spared the haughty lecture about how we're supposed to remember people's names, Simon. Which actually would have been an awesome opportunity for Simon to call Ryan "Brian Dunkleman," so now I'm kind of sad that didn't happen. Ah well. I'm sure this won't be the last time Grandpa Simon forgets a name. Ryan asks Brandon how badly he wants to make the Top 12. Brandon gets weirdly breathy/whispery and goes, "More than you know!" I'm 99% sure that was adrenaline talking rather than creepiness. But, as if willfully trying to prove me wrong, Ryan goes, "You would do anything, right? ...Almost anything. It's Hollywood, man." And then Brandon cocks an eyebrow like it ain't never been cocked before, because: seriously. Ryan Seacrest just took a seat on the imaginary casting couch and unzipped his imaginary fly right there on national television. What the hell is he thinking sometimes? America don't care for jazz, it's true, and it also don't care to see Ryan Seacrest's True Hollywood Story. Not now. Maybe not ever. Keep it in yer pants, dude.
Phil has chosen to steal his super-secret from Chris Daughtry last year: he didn't always used to be bald! Well, considering your wildly prominent eyebrows (the theme for the guys this season, apparently), we'd discarded alopecia as a possibility, so we kind of assumed that was the case. But Phil prattles on about how he used to have long hair! And then he had to cut it! But it didn't look good short! But then it did look good bald! I'm sorry, I don't think even exclamation points can do much to make this an interesting story. Okay, so Phil's singing "I Need You" by LeAnn Rimes, which is weird in and of itself, because it never works out when boys sing girl songs on this show. But it's also weird in this particular case because of how scary and awful Phil's opening low notes sound. Like he's a drag queen embarking on a too-ambitious rendition of "Unbreak My Heart." I'm pretty much ready to vote him off right then. Awful! An assault on my ears! But then, much as he did with the Edwin McCain song, Phil pulls himself out of his tailspin and really hits his power notes in a way that's very pleasant to listen to again. The falsetto doesn't work nearly as well as he needs it to, but he's at least saved himself from a completely bad performance.
As his pretty wife claps nervously, Phil faces the judges. Randy's like, "...Interesting." Then he busts out the Steve Perry comparison, at least with regard to the power notes, but he says Phil's lower register needs work. I'll fuckin' say. Paula essentially repeats everything Randy says, but makes more sense. ...I know. What else can I say about it at this point? Not his best performance, is the verdict. Simon "didn't get it at all." But since Randy and Paula have already covered the pertinent vocal criticisms, Simon's focused on the old man hat and Phil's "big eyes." Hey! Lay off the eyes, Cowell. Randy hyperventilates: "Eyes! Eyes! He can't change his eyes!" Phil: "Simon, I'll change my eyes if you want me to." Shut UP, Phil! God, I'm trying to defend you here. Be obsequious on your own time. Simon tries to clarify, and I think he's trying to dance around the alien head issue, which is dumb, because the hat covers that up pretty well. He just thinks overall it was a shitty performance, and I can't disagree too much. Simon extends his critique of Phil to all the guys, who have been disappointing at a time when they should be upping their game.
Ryan takes the stage and tries to start something, asking Phil why he was just "staring down" Simon. Oh, heel, you little purse dog. Phil just says he appreciates what the judges are saying, but he really loves that song. Ryan asks if he still thinks it was the right song choice. "Obviously not," Phil says, plainly. "All three of them agreed on that." This is what I do like about Phil -- he's willing to take the judges at face value and say, "Okay. That wasn't great. Give me a week to recalibrate." Good attitude. "If you make it week," Ryan asks, "will you squint?" That's funny, Ryan. That's one for you. Phil tries to come up with a funny reply but he can't, so he lamely says, "I may surprise you, Ryan." Mission: aborted. How much is that my worst nightmare? Coming up completely empty when Ryan Seacrest lobs a softball across the middle of the plate? Ouch. Simon starts to needle Ryan about...something. His brand of moisturizer, I don't know. But Ryan goes, "You're using 'cutesy,' gazing into his eyes...show's almost over." Sigh. "No, Simon, your words and actions are more stereotypically homosexual!" "No, Ryan, yours are!" "Nuh-uh!" "Yeah-huh!" "You were staring at Blake's butt!" "You offered to let Brandon give you a hummer!" "Queen!" "Fag!" When the revolution comes, I'm killing these two bitches first.
"What don't we know about Chris Sligh?" Ryan asks, after commercials. Considering how carefully he's chosen to mold his image, I'd guess quite a bit. What he chooses to tell us, however, is something boring about his hair. It used to be short! Yes, he wasn't actually an eight-pound baby with ten additional pounds of 'fro attached. Folks, I'm not usually one to impart life lessons, but if you're admitting that the most interesting thing about you is your hair? You're already losing. Except Taylor's gray hair won this show last year, and so once again the very existence of Taylor makes the world not make sense. Rather than see a photo of Bald Sligh, we just see a photo of Phil with the face morphed into Chris's face. Stop that, show. Seriously. Chris assures us that his hair is as it naturally is; he's never had a perm. I don't know about you, but I'm relieved to know that.
Onstage, Chris is singing a song that goes, "We all want to be loved!" to start. My research tells me it's a band called DC Talk, the rockingest Christian pop/rock/hip-hop group ever to be affiliated with Jerry Falwell's Liberty University. "Tell me what's wrong with that," Chris sing-asks. Nothing at all, dude. Don't be so defensive. It's actually a pretty generic song. It's not exactly asking you to accept anyone as your personal savior or anything. Chris's performance in particular is...not that great. Kind of shouty, uninspired, ahead of the beat (...again, though this is the first time I've noticed it independent of Paula), and rather boring. He's got a wonderful voice, but it doesn't really do anything on this song. Ooh! I hope Simon calls it "indulgent"! Chris keeps carrying around the mic stand Bice-style, which makes me think he should have just joined a band and bypassed this whole show to begin with. Randy delivers the backhanded compliment that while the guys sucked tonight, Chris was the best of that group. Paula...didn't like it! Independently of everyone else! And Chris is a guy! AGAIN! Better watch your back, Cowell. There might be a new favorite judge in town. She doesn't do a great job of explaining herself, but I think it has to do with Chris staying in his isolated little corner of the musical world and not opening himself up to the style of pop music that wins this show. Which I think is going to become the essential Sligh dilemma. Will he step outside his box in order to succeed, or will he continue to be too cool for everyone else and niche himself into an early exit? Paula says he's not taking enough risks with his voice, either. He asks her if she thought it was better than last week, because he's trying to build from one week to the . He seems earnest enough that I think he's probably honestly just trying to do the best he can. But a sliver of that comment sounded like he was saying he's consciously holding back and trying to make each week incrementally better than the last until he's able to slay us with the blinding awesomeness of his full potential when he makes the final two. I suppose I dislike Chris just enough that I believe that could be true.
Simon says Chris was just fine at the beginning, but he shouted the middle of the song and wasn't that great. And Simon didn't think the song was "hooky" enough. Catchy hooks are the devil's playthings, Cowell, and don't you forget it. When Ryan takes the stage, Chris takes the opportunity to acknowledge that he didn't sing a well-known song, but he thought the message, the "we all want to be loved" part, was just cynically universal enough to dupe American into voting for him. In paraphrasing, I may have included a word or two that Chris did not. Ryan reads the numbers and the goes to shake Chris's hand. Chris is like, "Hold on. You gotta give me a hug, dawg. You gave everybody else a hug!" Ryan pretends he's sufficiently uncomfortable with touching other guys and slap-hugs Chris. Simon makes googly faces and Ryan goes, "He gets excited." I'm too tired to even comment on them again this week.
Rundown! Blake's biceps singing 1996's most annoying song and making me kind of like it anyway. Sanjaya barely singing at all. Sundance being offensive to nearly all my senses and screwing up lyrics and sucking. Chris being the sensitive poet for the night. Jared trying to make argyle interesting. Brandon letting his giant smile be his umbrella but otherwise choosing songs unwisely yet again. Phil singing the good parts of his song and hoping you've forgotten the other stuff. And Chris preaching to the converted but probably not winning him all that many new fans. up: the girls! It never ends...