Black and Decker then explain to us what the theme really is. They enlisted the help of classic pop composer Burt Bacharach to "work" with the kids and force them to sing his songs. Er, rather, "help them select which Burt songs to sing tonight." I don't like Burt Bacharach. Let me explain: I'm a very holistic music fan and generally pay little attention to technique or vocal difficulty. I'm interested in the emotional depth of the performance and the overall quality of the music, and whether it makes me feel anything. I like the lyrics for many of Bacharach's songs, which is funny, because he didn't write most of them. But the depth and subtlety of the lyrics are pretty much ruined for me by Burt's plink-plonking, smarmy, saccharine compositions. It is, indeed, a mark of a good performer who can not only hit the highs and lows of a Bacharach song, but also sell the lyrics. But because I'm not into the technical aspects of music, I'm instead annoyed by the dissonance between the lyrics and the composition. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to brush my teeth and go bite Gustave's "richly textured, bossanova-flavored, Dionne Warwick-vocalized" ass.
In a clip show, we meet the aging smarm-meister. Of course, the first thing they explain to us is that Bacharach was in the Austin Powers movies. Really, that's only a step above introducing him by showing all the commercials his songs have been used in. We see Burt croon away at the piano. The guy's got a head shaped like a light bulb. Black and Decker declare his work with the finalists as the collaboration of "two musical generations." Because, you know, Debra Byrd and Simon Cowell are Justin and Tamyra's contemporaries. They all practice "That's What Friends Are For" and sound awful and I hate that song so much. Christina is still there in the clips, so this all must have happened before last week's shows. Kelly (Eeeeeee!) calls Bacharach a genius and says his songs are "masterpieces." Bacharach says the kids are "good." Wow. Bring on the high praise. Heh. Burt thinks they all suck. He didn't even bother to attend the live performances. Justin hams to the camera that Burt is the "hippest senior citizen alive." Thanks for reminding me that Rosemary Clooney just died. Sigh.
Now that the clip show has put the fear of God in us with an awful practice, it's time to get to the actual torture of a live performance. We return to The Octagon of Judgment to hear the five finalists sing "That's What Friends Are For" together. Justin hammily mimes playing the harmonica at the opening of the song. They sit on chairs, refusing to harmonize or blend in any way, shape, or form. I can't even hear R.J. singing. Kelly gets her own diva note as they hit the halfway mark. They stand up and move to the front of the stage. The folks in the audience wave their hands back and forth as they were instructed to do before the show started. Actually, they do start harmonizing a bit, finally, about a verse and a half before the song ends, and it's not so bad. I thought it was awful the night I saw it, but now that I'm watching it again with the memory of the Wednesday-night medley still lodged in my brain like a tumor, it doesn't seem so bad. The audience cheers. R.J. gestures to somebody in the audience that he needs some more oil. Black and Decker have to point out that now they're going to pit these friends against each other, because FOX is afraid that its viewers think "irony" is something you get in vitamin supplements.
Commercials. Hey, an Austin Powers ad! What a coincidence.
When we return, it's finally time for the first solo performance. Kelly "Be True To Yourself" Clarkson (Eeeeeee!) will start us off. The clip show for each singer tonight features their practices with Bacharach and his opinions about each of them. Kelly (Eeeeeee!) called her mom to let her know that she's working with Burt. We see clips of her practicing "Anyone Who Had A Heart" with Bacharach, and he loves her voice and her singing. And himself. He tells the camera, "I like the song. It's one of my favorite songs that I've written." However, Kelly (Eeeeeee!) later changed her mind and decided to go with "Walk On By" instead. Kelly (Eeeeeee!) tells the camera that "song selection is key" (drink!) and she wanted something that was better for her. Burt says that Kelly (Eeeeeee!) is a great singer and has a great shot at winning the competition.
Kelly (Eeeeeee!) heads to The Octagon wearing a red bustier and black flared pants, her hair pulled back and piled up on her head. Simple, but pretty. Kelly (Eeeeeee!) has decided to continue with the belting, and sings "Walk On By" as if it's an order from a drill sergeant, and not a melancholy passive-aggressive plea for attention, as it should be. You know, it'd be okay if she changed the mood of the song to make the meaning some sort of gesture of defiance, but when she also belts out the lines that indicate the singer's titular request is a big lie, it simply doesn't work. There's also a lot of warbling coming from her tonight, and she's usually the one who holds out the notes. Overall, an okay performance, but very unsubtle and too flashy. But she gets a standing ovation anyway.
Judges. Randy "Kelly, Kelly, Kelly"s that he doesn't think this was one of her best performances. The crowd starts booing, but Kelly (Eeeeeee!) tells Randy, "I understand," repeatedly, like some sort of reassurance that she wasn't entirely happy with it either. Still, he liked the performance. Paula brings up the song choice thing again and says she thought Kelly (Eeeeeee!) would have done a great job with "Anyone Who Had A Heart." However, she thinks Kelly (Eeeeeee!) did a good job and made "Walk On By" her own. Well, yes, but as I've said before, that's not always a good thing. Simon starts his comments with a tone of disappointment in his voice, telling Kelly (Eeeeeee!) that she's proven that she's more than just a good singer. But there is no "but" to his comment. Instead, he thanks her for entering the competition and admits that they didn't really pick up on her talent in the audition rounds. He tells Kelly (Eeeeeee!) that he's sure she's going to be a big star by the end of the competition.
Kelly (Eeeeeee!) heads up to Black and Decker, who ask her about her song selection and the change. She explains that she had never heard the ending to "Anyone Who Had A Heart" before and felt that it didn't fit her range. She agrees that it's a great song, but it just wasn't right for her voice, so she went with something that was more "bluesy." Hear that, Ryan Starr? Liking a song isn't the same as being able to sing it. Blah blah blah votecakes.
Commercials. When we return, it's time for R.J. "God Give Me Strength" Helton. Black and Decker narrate over the clip show that R.J.'s rehearsals with Bacharach "got off to a shaky start." Gee, what a surprise. They practice "Arthur's Theme," and Burt tells the camera that R.J. was really shy and worried that the song was too high for him. R.J. explains that Burt brought the song down about half a step and everything was fine. R.J. continues that he knew he wanted to sing "Arthur's Theme" because the first line is, "Once in your life you will find her." Wow, that was the most unconvincing insistence of heterosexuality I've heard. He's going to be disappointed when the song doesn't continue, "A girl who will accompany you on your first trip to a gay bar and make sure you dress hot." Having a near orgasm over the fact that the first line in a song is about falling in love with a girl is about as pathetic and transparent an attempt to disguise one's sexuality as dating Nicole Kidman. Burt concludes that R.J. had a real "sweetness" about him when he sang the song, and says that he was good.
R.J. hits The Octagon dressed like an accountant on casual Friday in a short-sleeved white button-up shirt and black slacks. I'd suggest that he's not gay given the way he dresses, but he still manages to dress better than I do, so I still have doubts. He plants his feet on the stage as if there are magnets under the floor pulling him down, and ski-dances and warbles his way through "Arthur's Theme." It's like every other R.J. performance: bland, non-charismatic, soulless, and mechanical. At least he doesn't forget the words this time.
Judges. Wait a minute. The people who used to be sitting behind the judges have been removed and replaced with Ryan Starr, Jim Verraros, EJay Day, and Christina. The hell? What happened to those other people? And what the hell happened to EJay? Are the mirrored glasses and Justin-sized afro supposed to draw attention away from his jaw? Eh, whatever; I've moved on to crushing on Adam Baldwin again, so no more embarrassing comments about the singing orc boy from me.
Judges, second try. Did you know that Randy and R.J. have the same initials? Fascinating. In the background, Christina looks really, really worried about what the judges are going to say. Randy says he thought R.J. sounded really nervous when he started, but ended well. Paula says that she thought the song fit R.J.'s vocal register really well. Simon tries to give his comments while Ryan Starr practically has spasm attacks behind him. The camera angle is such that her breasts are always in focus right behind Simon's left shoulder. Simon tells R.J. that he's "out of his depth" against the other competitors. Behind him, Jim starts shaking his head "no" with great exaggeration. Shut up, Jim. America voted you off the damned show after the first week of finals. So shut up. You suck. Shut up. Jim reaches over and hugs Ryan, who shouts out, "You suck as a judge!" Ryan, read my comments to Jim. Or have somebody read them to you. Also, shut up. Count yourself lucky we can't vote you out of the audience. Shut. Up. Simon continues that R.J. was "okay" and maybe some people like him. His usual comments. Suddenly, R.J.'s decided that he's heard enough of the broken record that is Simon and gives him a wave of dismissal, walking off before Simon can finish. At the American Family Association headquarters, an alarm goes off, warning their technicians that the behavior modulation filters on their prototype have started malfunctioning. They must have forgotten to recalibrate after fiddling with his "declarations of heterosexuality" subroutine.
R.J. heads up to Black and Decker, and Paula feels the need to point out R.J.'s snub to everybody. Yes, we know, honey. Just drink whatever tranquilizers they've put in your [product-placed cola] cup tonight and shut up. Of course, she says this admiringly, and Black and Decker feel the need to point out that Simon usually gets that sort of brush-off from women. Again with the projection. Black and Decker mention that the kids get to do all sorts of Hollywood things, including attending the premiere of XXX. They ask R.J. who he was most excited to meet there. There's a brief pause as R.J.'s programming blocks his first answer ("Vin Diesel. In the bathroom. And then again in the back of his limo."); instead he goes with Gwen Stefani. She's cool. And a girl! Blah blah blah votecakes.
Black and Decker tell a bad joke about how Ryan has help looking so pretty, and nobody laughs. Ryan looks like they put make-up on him to de-emphasize his tan. This is all just a segue to yet another segment on contestant makeovers. The kids were all sent (in their [product-placed cars]) to a department store named Sephora. They meet with some creepy, freaky woman named Charlie Green. She's got a butch, punk, bleached-blonde hairstyle and is wearing a red country-patterned frilly dress like a woman might wear to go square dancing. She says that it's a challenge to make over the three girls, because they're already so pretty. She sets Nikki down first and gives her the blue-eye-shadow, bright-red-lipstick look that any girl who has hit puberty is capable of reproducing. Seriously, what was the point? She looked just like this before. Charlie says that Tamyra is gorgeous and has perfect skin and doesn't need to wear a lot of make-up. Then she proceeds to put too much lip-gloss and blush on her. She gives Kelly (Eeeeeee!) colored contacts and a makeover to give her what she describes as a Brigitte Bardot "smokey-eyed" look. Kelly (Eeeeeee!) says that she hardly ever uses make-up herself, so she loves it whenever somebody else makes her look good. None of them kept these looks for their performances, so thanks for wasting our time.
And hey, there's no reason to leave the boys out. This is Hollywood. Justin and R.J. arrive for makeovers as well, though we don't get to see Charlie actually doing much of anything, because that would be gay. She asks R.J. if he uses moisturizer, and they cut away before he can explain that he uses Windex to wipe off any dirt and/or fingerprints from his casing. Charlie marvels over Justin's hair. Justin jokes that he has to keep the afro looking good because "otherwise it gets angry." One night he forgot to condition it and it ate the pizza delivery guy. Then Charlie gives them all gift certificates for a shopping spree. Dammit, this was all product placement.
Commercials. When we return, Brian starts reciting the theme to Love Boat, and the audience starts groaning out loud. Everybody hates Brian. Everybody. up is Tamyra "Promise Her Anything" Gray. She practices "A House Is Not A Home" with Burt. She's embarrassed by the fact that she isn't familiar with the original rendition of the song, only the remakes. Now, see, she knows that musical ignorance is not something to be proud of. Hear that, Nikki? R.J.? Anyway, Burt just loves him some Tamyra. He thinks she's going to put on a "tour de force" performance. Tamyra says she wants to do him proud with her rendition of the song. Burt concludes that he'd like to take her into a studio and record her right now.
Tamyra heads out to The Octagon to sing "A House Is Not A Home." As I said before, her hair is relaxed and piled up on top of her head. It's more elegant, but honestly, it's such a common look. I think the afros made her stand out more. She's wearing her typical giant-sleeved shirt in the earth tones. Actually, the whole shirt is giant this time and doesn't expose her belly. And she's wearing jeans. She kind of looks like she's trying to transform herself into Christina. What's up with that? Simon already loves her.
Tamyra's singing is not quite as solid as it usually is. She goes flat in the lower end of her register, and there's a little too much warbling and vibrato. She's feeling the song a little better than Kelly did hers, but not nearly as much as somebody who is, say, ten years older, and has had more life experience. She ends on a good, solid note, but does that thing that Christina did where she runs the fingers down the side of her own face. Really, was she waiting for Christina to get voted out before busting out this look or what?
But the audience loves her and cheers. Oh, Paula's crying. Somebody check her dosage. Thanks. Randy "Tamyra, Tamyra, Tamyra"s that she sounded a little nervous tonight. Then he gives his usual "you sang your heart out. You did your thing. You made that song your own" commentary. For some reason, Tamyra says, "Don't do that," but the camera's on Paula and we don't know who she's talking to. I pretend that she noticed Brian staring at her ass. Paula compares Tamyra to Barry Bonds. For a moment I worried that Paula actually knows more performers than I do before I realize that she's talking about a baseball player. And this stuff is coming out of her mouth after she allegedly hired her own writer? Simon resorts to extreme hyperbole while Ryan plays with her boobies in the background. He says that Tamyra's singing was "on par with Whitney Houston and Celine Dion." I guess with Christina gone, he actually has to take all that undirected exaggeration and give it to one of the other performers. Actually, I thought she was better than Celine, but not as good as Whitney. Of course, I think R.J. is better than Celine, so don't listen to me. Simon concludes that it's one of the best performances on television that he has ever seen. Better than when Britney danced in her underwear with that snake?
Tamyra heads up to Black and Decker, who bring up Simon's comments from last week that he was surprised that Tamyra had yet to be discovered. They ask her how that happened. She says that it was a matter of timing, and it just wasn't her time yet. I seem to recall reading that she was afraid that the pop market was oversaturated with female singers and she was worried that she didn't stand a chance. She might not have even been trying to be discovered. But Black and Decker can't have us going to commercial thinking about Tamyra's performance. No, they have to draw attention to themselves. Ryan quotes face-cancer Nelly by observing that it's "getting hot in here." Brian says that they'll hose Ryan down during the commercial break, and Ryan actually gets up and hams around the stage, demanding to know where his hose is. Simon keeps it in a jar by his bed. Now calm down, you attention-starved, camera-whore monkey of a man. Go sit down. The show isn't about you. And shut up. Both of you.
Commercials. When we return, Brian is alone on the stage, pretending to have a conversation with somebody in the audience about getting together later. Ew. And ick. And also, given the angle and direction that he's facing, I think he's talking to Ryan Starr's breasts. Kill it. Won't somebody kill it? Now that Josh has finally been voted out of the house on Big Brother III, Brian Dunkleman holds the title of most repulsive person currently on reality television. Brian warns us again that American Idol will be coming on tour to a town near you, so keep an eye out for information. If they ever get their shit together. Based on the relative lack of information about this tour that they've been promoting for two weeks, I've seen wandering carnivals in the parking lots of strip malls that have better planning.
Brian tosses it back to Ryan in Pimp Central, there to introduce Justin "True Love Never Runs Smooth" Guarini. I swear, during all the finals, the only people Ryan has introduced from Pimp Central have been Justin and R.J. Ryan asks if Justin likes singing love songs. Do fish like to swim? Does Ryan like to be on television? Try a hard question.
In the clip show, Black and Decker explain that "The Look Of Love" was the "obvious" choice for Justin. And he learned a couple of weeks ago never to turn away from the obvious choices. Burt thinks it's a good song choice for Justin: "He is a very soulful singer, and very, very good. He can bring a very fresh approach to the song." Justin says he was stunned at the opportunity to work with a pop legend and had to work to "keep it together" the whole time. Burt says Justin has a lot of potential.
Justin hits the stage to perform "The Look Of Love." He's wearing a white hippie-poet type of shirt that looks like it actually came from the women's department. My mom had a shirt just like it back in the '70s. He's also wearing brown leather pants. The thing about leather pants is that you have to have the right lower body to pull it off. If you're too skinny -- and Justin is too skinny -- the loose leather gets wrapped up and wrinkled around you, and your legs look like beef jerky. If your legs and hips are too big…well I don't think I need explain that image. Ben Browder can work some leather pants. Justin Guarini…not so much.
Justin wastes absolutely no time with the eye-fucking. And it works well with this song. What doesn't work so well are Justin's rather flat vocals for the first two-thirds of the song. If you're not watching the screen, Justin's performance is very boring and thin. He really is dependent on stage presence to cover his flaws. And that's not necessarily a terrible thing; God knows how many fun performers we'd never hear from again if we didn't make those sorts of allowances now and then. Don't expect me to give up my Madonna CDs. But I'm not going to pretend that Justin's singing is as good as Tamyra's or Kelly's.
The crowd applauds. For some reason, we get a close-up of a man in the audience holding a picture of Justin with a woman. I think that's his stepdad holding a picture of him with his mom. Why? I have absolutely no idea. Judges. Randy "Justin, Justin, Justin"s compliments for Justin's outfit. Randy says he used to dress like that. I hope he's kidding, but given his role in the '80s rock scene, he may not be. He thinks Justin sounded nice, but didn't think the song choice challenged him vocally. He says Justin needs to cut loose with the vocals if he wants to compete with some other people in the competition. Paula, of course, thinks that Justin's vocals were just perfect and that he was at ease onstage. Then she runs up and starts licking Justin's leather pants. Well, she might as well. You know she wants to. I don't know why, but Ryan and Jim have switched places behind the judges. I think Simon has fallen out of love with Justin. He points out that Justin's performance was okay, but he followed somebody who was spectacular. Justin just smiles and accepts Simon's comments, noting that "okay" is better than saying the performance was bad.
Justin heads up to Black and Decker, who ask him to provide America with some hair tips. He jokes that when he gets up in the morning, he has to talk to his hair and "soothe it," to keep it from eating the mailman or whatever. Black and Decker ask him for an example, and he mimics telling his hair that everything's okay and to relax. Then he gets embarrassed, but he's still funnier than Black and Decker. ["I don't really care for Justin, but that moment was kind of cute." -- Sars] Blah blah blah votecakes. Brian explains that voting is a two-way thing, "like a street." Ryan gives Brian a hysterical "what the fuck?" look. Seriously, are the kids voting for us, too? If that's the case, I'm in so much trouble. Brian blames it on the teleprompter. I'd feel sympathy if I weren't sure that Brian probably helps write all this crappy host dialogue, since he's the "comedian."
Before tossing it to commercials, it's time for tonight's [product-placed cola] clip show. The kids are all going to attend the Teen Choice Awards (on FOX, the tools loudly remind us). Ah, the Teen Choice Awards, the high-school sophomore class elections of the award genre: stupid, pointless and boring. In clip shows, the kids all prepare and pile into a limo. In the limo, R.J. says that he's hoping to meet Jennifer Love Hewitt. Everybody starts laughing, because R.J. is gayer than an Easter bonnet. Cut to the red carpet outside the show, where Jennifer Love Hewitt waves her dinners around to anybody who will give her the time of day. Some celebrity I don't recognize tells the camera that she hopes to meet some of the American Idol finalists. The kids wander around and pose and so on. Black and Decker promise to show us more of their appearance at the Teen Choice Awards tomorrow night. I just realized how stupid these folks are. They told us last week that the show was this past Monday. It wasn't; it's this upcoming Monday. Back at the stage, Brian tries to resurrect the street joke. Ryan jokingly tells him to shut up, but I don't think he's joking. I think Ryan hates Brian and thinks Brian is dragging him down, like Ryan has any actual future anyway.
Commercials. There's a parody of the American Idol auditions, with Justin Timberlake getting chewed out by a faux Simon. Heh. Shut up, Bill Bellamy. You're not funny.
When we return, some little girl is up onstage, giving Black and Decker some cookies. I suppose it's too much to hope that some clever person put laxatives in there and made them look like chocolate chips. ["I was hoping for good old-fashioned rat poison myself." -- Sars] After stealing this kid's lunch, Black and Decker send her back to the seats. up is Nikki "Nikki" McKibbin. Black and Decker diplomatically narrate that Nikki's singing style presented a "challenge" to Bacharach, what with the whole faux-rocker thing. As Nikki practices "Always Something There To Remind Me," Bacharach observes that she has a "bite" and "edge" to her voice. He thinks this song has enough of a rock edge to please her. Wow, it so doesn't. But Nikki went along with it, so okay. Nikki says she adds a little "rock and roll" to everything she does and sings everything "The Nikki Way," because she doesn't know any other way. Sadly, "The Nikki Way," doesn't always coincide with "The Way That Is Pleasing To The Ear." Burt concludes that he's sure that Nikki will do "absolutely fine" with the song. Be careful not to fall over yourself in your rush to praise Nikki there, Burt. You might break a hip. ["Hey, at least his comments partially drowned out the sound of her practicing, which…okay, I've stepped on the tails of a few cats in my life, and I've still never heard anything close to that shit." -- Sars]
Nikki heads out to The Octagon to sing. She's wearing a black sweater with lace-up sleeves and fringes and ow, ow, ow, ow, OW! Sorry, but she started singing before I could finish writing the description of her outfit. Let me pause. "…and gray, patterned pants with a gray wrap." Okay, hold on; I'm going back in. Ow, ow, ow some more. Nikki is terribly, hideously flat. She's awfully flat all the way up to the first rendition to the chorus. She sounds a little better after that, but the whole performance is essentially ruined. There's no coming back from a start that bad. She goes for the stage presence, dancing really, really badly and heading down the stairs at the front of the stage to get closer to the audience. She doesn't interact with them or anything; she just stands there and sings for a few seconds before running back onstage. She limps her way through the performance and ends on another held flat note. Just…ow. When she's done, little Tristen rushes up to the stage to give his mommy a flower. Aww. Cute. I'm sure a family member put him up to it, not Nikki. She kneels down at the front of the stage and gives him a kiss.
Judges. Randy "Nikki, Nikki, Nikki"s that he loves Nikki's kid and her wardrobe, but thought her singing was bad. He tells her that she's out of her league at this point in the competition. Paula agrees with Randy and adds that it wasn't the best song for Nikki to choose. Yeah, she totally should have picked one of the songs Burt composed for Blondie or Joan Jett. Oh yeah -- shut up, Paula. After welcoming Paula to "the dark side," because Paula has never ever criticized a performance, ever, Simon tells Nikki that her performance reminded him of Adam Sandler's character in The Wedding Singer. He concludes that she just wasn't good enough. Jim shouts, "We love you!" to Nikki, as do some other fans.
Nikki heads up to Black and Decker, who point out Tristen again. He really is a cute little boy. Blah blah blah votecakes. After showing clips from the evening's performances, Black and Decker send us out with another stupid joke revolving around being emotionally naked versus being physically naked. Shut up! This show is not about you! Blah blah blah votecakes some more. During the closing credits, we see Tristen crying in the audience for some reason. He misses his mommy. Sniff!
Wednesday. Melodramatic Announcer: "Tonight, one of these five finalists will be sacrificed to our dread lord, Nyarlhotep."
Credits. Black and Decker head out to The Octagon of Judgment to greet the audience. Ryan starts shrieking along with the crowd. Either he's gotten into Paula's meds, or they passed the bong around backstage. He's bouncing around and acting extremely goofy. Maybe they just told him backstage that Brian won't be coming back season. Anyway, Black and Decker reveal that more than fourteen million votes were cast last night. Yikes. Brian blathers that folks who didn't vote shouldn't complain when their favorite singer gets voted out and is flown home "in coach." You call that punishment? Make them fly Southwest if you really want to torture the losers.
Time to introduce the judges. Ryan calls Randy "one hundred percent pure beef." Wow, USDA standards have really gone down. Ryan teases Randy by repeating his name several times and telling him how much he likes Randy's initials. This is your host on drugs. Actually, it's an improvement, so let's have him toke up before each show. He introduces Paula as "the rose between two thorns." Paula's necklace is made out of those little magic interlocking rings. Ryan concludes, "And finally, the prick…ly Simon Cowell." Well, there goes the G rating. Simon genuinely laughs at Ryan's joke. There's a girl behind Simon wearing a shirt with an airbrushed picture of Randy Jackson on it. I hope she's forced into therapy after the show. Black and Decker introduce the final five, sitting over on the couches. Tamyra's hair is still straightened.
Now's the part of the show where they recap last night's performances. Paula compliments Justin's performance. Randy compliments R.J.'s performance. Simon thanks Kelly for entering the competition. Paula compares Tamyra to Barry Bonds. Simon hyperbolizes that it was one of the best musical performances on television. Simon tells Nikki that she sucks.
Cut off the bottom inch of a couple of candles and stuff the wax in your ears; it's time for another group performance. Tonight, the kids sing a medley of Bacharach hits. They start with "Do You Know The Way To San Jose?" and sing the lyrics about how aspiring stars end up parking cars and pumping gas. Whoever planned that is fucking brilliant. The girls sing "I Say A Little Prayer." Kelly's wearing too much make-up. Damn you, Charlie Green. This is your fault. They all sing the chorus, and actually harmonize rather well there. Then Justin and R.J. butcher "This Guy's In Love With You." Their voices just don't blend. Nikki gets a solo of "Close To You." She's terribly flat. After a verse, they all switch to "Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head." Kelly gets a solo of "Anyone Who Had A Heart," and she really, really should have gone with that song on Tuesday. I think she could have handled it. Tamyra gets a little solo of her own during the chorus. They end the medley with a jangly chorus of "What The World Needs Now Is Love." The entire medley was fragmented and just did not mesh well at all. Even worse than the group performance of "American Bandstand."
Commercials. When we return, Ryan is eating Doritos and giggling at the pattern on his own shirt. Just kidding. But only barely. He teases Brian for nearly flubbing his lines telling us all to check out the official site, and giggles for a little bit. Duuuuuude! Bloopers are so funny!
Now's the time on American Idol where they pad, pad, pad! The [product-placed car] skit tonight is about the vagaries of fame. The kids are all in their car, heading toward the studio. Suddenly, Kelly tells Tamyra to stop the car. She mentions that she can hear a huge crowd of fans cheering. The sound guys mix in some recorded cheering to simulate shrieking fans. Justin insists that there's no reason to be afraid of the "fans," and sets out to prove it by getting out of the car and heading over to where they allegedly are. He walks over to the corner of a building, waves to some "fans," and insists that everything's just fine. Suddenly, the "fans" pull Justin behind the building, and a production assistant throws out pieces of shredding clothing for about ten seconds. Justin eventually "breaks free" of the "fans" and runs back around the building, shirt shredded, hair full of leaves, face covered with lipstick remnants of "kisses." He jumps back into the car. They all start driving away as Justin describes the horror of being "mauled" by his "girl fans." Then he decides that it was actually "fabulous," and asks Tamyra to stop the car again so he can go back. Wow, wasn't that "entertaining," and "interesting"? Doesn't it make you miss the high production values of Making the Band?
Yay! Now it's finally time to start with the booting. Since they're down to five contestants, they're going to reveal the bottom two now, rather than the bottom three. Nikki is first. Nobody liked her; she's in the bottom two. That, of course, means that the two people mentioned are safe, because they've got a commercial break to squeeze in. Yup, Kelly (Eeeeeee!) and Tamyra are the two, and they're both safe. That leaves either Justin or R.J. to join Nikki up on The Octagon of Judgment. And we'll find out who that is after this commercial break.
We would all be dead if it weren't for plastic. Yay! Plastic!
When we return, they reveal that…oh wait, another clip show. Jesus. How cruel. It's a continuation of the kids' appearance at the Teen Choice Awards. The kids wander down the red carpet. There's Keanu Reeves. There's Joshua Jackson with big, floppy hair and a full beard. He looks just like me! Bwah. No. Although we do both have the exact same hair and beard now. Weird. There's a bunch of stars I don't recognize. The kids look forward to meeting stars. Nikki is photographed to Seth Green. Kelly (Eeeeeee!) tells the camera that she just adores Seth Green. So when we all have that national slumber party with Kelly (Eeeeeee!), she'll be able to talk about Buffy with us. R.J. says he really wants to meet Jennifer Love Hewitt. He must have heard those rumors that Jennifer has served as a willing beard for more than a couple of celebrities. In an amusing editing decision, they cut to Jennifer, telling the camera that she'd love to meet Justin. She calls him a hottie. She warns that she might "tackle" him if she sees him on the red carpet. Run, Justin, run! She might smother you with her giant boobies! They show clips of the kids' appearance on the awards show. The set looks like Ron Jon's Surf Shop exploded. Paula introduces the kids. Celebrities cheer. The kids pose for photos. Kelly's wearing shredwear. R.J.'s wearing a sleeveless shirt. They head back to the limo. The end.
Now, finally, they're going to reveal the second member of the bottom two. Man, if they're going to have two clip shows on every result show from now on, I'm going to have to dip into Ryan's stash to make it through this. Anyway, the second potential rejectee is R.J. He heads over to join Nikki at The Octagon. And we'll find out who is going home -- for about five minutes, before embarking on the same media tour that all the other rejectees have inflicted upon us -- after this commercial break.
When we return, it's time for the bad news. Black and Decker mention that each of the bottom two received more than two million votes each, so it's not like nobody liked them. Although, if the boards are any indication, about a million of the votes each of them got were from people trying to eliminate the other person. Anyway, rather then pulling their usual trick of calling out the name of the one who has made it on to the week first, they simply tell R.J. that he has been eliminated. Nikki's the one who starts crying. I think she's tired of this whole competition, knows she's not going to win, and really, really wants to go home and see her kid. The two of them share a hug, and Nikki heads back to join the other finalists.
Time for R.J.'s final words. He thanks all his fans and supporters, and his family. Then he thanks Paula and Randy for their support, pointedly leaving out Simon. The audience laughs at the snub. Back at the American Family Association, technicians discover to their consternation that hackers at Hubris Records have infected R.J. with a virus in order to try to get him to sign a contract with them. As we all know, Simon was the one who voted R.J. out, and nobody else in the country believed that R.J. had a thin voice and all the stage presence of a six-year-old singing at his first recital. Why, if it weren't for Simon, R.J. would have won this whole thing, instead of, say, getting rejected in the semi-finals.
R.J.'s clip show features him singing and telling us that his dream is to sing and to "be known." How ambitious. He hugs his mother. He wears a white suit. Oh my god, they show Randy and Simon's fight in R.J.'s clip show. How hysterically tacky. He wins the wild-card slot. He declares his heterosexuality again. He says the experience made him a stronger person. And apparently a bitter one, as well. Welcome to the bitter queen club, R.J.! Have a martini and tell us all how skeezy Brian is.
Back on the stage, Black and Decker ask the judges for their final comments. Randy blah blah blahs that R.J. should continue to follow his dream. Paula says, "Your talent has earned the position that you've made. This is such a wonderful stage you're on. I want you to know, R.J, that I love you more than your initials, and in this business, where most people fly coach, you fly first class." Uh. I'm not quite sure where to put the [sic] in that statement. This is what happens when you use Botox as a sandwich spread. Simon, taking the high road that was left off of R.J's map, tells R.J. that he took his criticism like a man and he did well to get this far. He tells the other finalists that they have to "believe" that they can win this competition. He congratulates R.J. again for getting this far.
The kids run out to hug R.J. as Black and Decker remind us all to watch again week, before forcing a crying R.J. to sing them all out. That really is a creepy thing to do. And of course, just as with Ryan, he gets cut off after about three words, so it really serves as nothing more than a final humiliation.
week: Nikki vivisects a kitten on stage in the hopes that the voters will finally let her go home.