By Miss Alli
Okay, how did I wind up agreeing to recap the good auditions? It's like getting stuck with the one episode of ER where nothing shocking happens in the last five minutes. Sigh.
Muppet-Boy begins tonight's festivities by promising that, tomorrow night, we will actually see the beginning of the dreaded non-audition portion of the season, also known as "the part dominated by forum bannings." It's always interesting when you start a show by saying, "I swear to God, this is the last time you're going to have to watch this kind of stuff." Tonight, though, they're going to keep it up with the auditions for one more tiresome night, and show us some of the finalists they haven't gotten around to showing yet. I think they're looking to avoid another Kelly Clarkson fiasco in which the winner rises up from obscurity such that when she hits the final thirty-two, everybody's left going, "Who?" Muppet-Boy promises some "fantastic unseen auditions," as well as some that are just too weird not to put on TV. Also, there will be some horrible auditions, of course, epitomized by the guy they show right here singing "I'm Too Sexy" with a French accent while spanking himself. Wait, are they saying he didn't get through?
Hey! It's Liquid Metal Man or Woman! With extra words! Like Road! To! Hollywood! This must be a super-special episode!
When we start the show proper (if the word "proper" belongs in the same recap as a guy spanking himself), Muppet-Boy says that the national auditions are over at last. We have gone from stadiums filled with desperate attention-seekers to only the 117 very most desperate. He points out that we've already seen some of the lucky ones...now, we will meet some more.
Our first case study is Elizabeth LeTendre, who introduces herself to the camera by lying on her back and lifting her foot over her head so her leg is lying on the ground beside her ear. That is...gross. You should respect your limbs enough not to make them do things they're obviously not comfortable with. Anyway, Elizabeth vows to puke as she waits in line, do we get to see that part? Of course not! Unfair! She applies lip gloss and blows kisses, which is really not too promising, unless you're auditioning people for the part of the little "ladies first" girl in a stage revival of Free To Be You And Me. When Elizabeth gets into the audition room, she explains why she's there in part by describing herself as "quite charming" in a way she might convince me is genuinely ironic and gently self-deprecating if she hadn't done the foot-over-her-head thing or blown so many kisses. Anyway, she sings "The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face." The first held note takes about a beat and a half to settle on a single pitch. She's good, but I am skeptical about vibrato in all but the best singers, as you know, and she has it in spades. She also breathes quite a lot in the middle of phrases. And, finally, she is yet another who has obscured a beautiful melody with unnecessary flourishes. Randy, feeling my pain, gives her a flat no. Paula says yes. Simon says that Randy, in addition to losing weight, has lost his hearing. Simon, you see, liked her, because she's young and hot, and Simon thinks that means you have a good voice, as we all know by now. Elizabeth sucks up to Randy about how good he looks as Simon laughs at the hilarity of his own joke. Simon declares Elizabeth "great." I find it fascinating that Simon will let a girl like that go through with no problem, but other girls, he declares to just be typical "types." I found Elizabeth's smoky, breathy, high-school-talent-show thing to be adequate, but nothing special. She certainly didn't sell the song, in my opinion. She, like a lot of girls her age, sings every song like it's about somebody breaking up with you at the prom. Paula interviews (wearing another sample from her Pimp Hat Collection) that she liked how Elizabeth was "confident without being cocky." A quality I would have called "cutesy without being interesting." Asked by Muppet-Boy outside whether she expected to get through, Elizabeth stage-whispers that she did, which is fine -- nothing wrong with confidence -- but which is not as aggressively adorable as she thinks it is.
up is Briana Garcia, who explains that she and her brothers started a band, and then her father died. So...I guess now that he died, they don't have the band anymore? I don't know. Auditioner life stories often contain logical gaps, I find. Like how you get from "I've always been shy" to "That's why I'm singing 'Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy' in leather pants and a hoochie shirt." Anyway, Briana calls auditioning "a 'thank you' to [her] dad." He always wanted her to sing awesome songs like "A Moment Like This," I guess. One other thing -- can you imagine if your brothers and you had a band, and then you went on American Idol? They would so beat you up and take your lunch money. Briana, by the way, has the same hair that Josh Jackson had at the beginning of the second season of Dawson's Creek. You remember the frosted tips? Yep. That's Briana's hair. Quite short, and all frosty-frosty on the ends. She is also wearing black suspenders with her white tank top and jeans, and she walks like a truck. I think she is actually a forty-year-old bar owner in disguise.
Briana announces that she will be singing "Uninvited." Interesting choice. Not a horrible song, but I can't imagine trying it without accompaniment. When she gets going, you learn that she's got a bit of an aping problem, in that she's copying the Alanis phrasing a little too precisely, as is often the case. (It's not always a bad thing -- I once knew a guy who did James Taylor songs so perfectly you wouldn't know the difference with your eyes closed, which was by far the best thing about him, particularly compared to his personality.) At any rate, Briana is now asked by Simon what would happen if, should she get through, she had to sing Neil Sedaka. She visibly cringes. These are the people I don't get -- what are they expecting to happen? It's going to become a rock contest? Don't show up and be all resenting Neil Sedaka. In fact, pop-wise, Neil Sedaka is about the best you're going to get. In fact, I would think Neil Sedaka would be seen as possessing the best possible pop quality; namely, "Not Diane Warren." Simon tells Briana that her reaction confirms what he thought -- she'd feel like she was compromising if she did that. She insists that she can do other things. Asked for fifteen seconds of something else, what does she come up with? "At Last." No, no, no. That proves nothing. The girl who sings "Uninvited" is exactly the same girl who sings "At Last," at least in this context. He should have made her sing, like, "Wind Beneath My Wings" or something. They're trying to get her to prove she can sing stupid things, not torch classics. Anyway, she's all "At Last," with significant pitch problems at first, but then less as time goes on. Simon calls her "a very confused young lady." Simon and Randy both say yes, with Randy saying that he thinks she can find her way. Paula says she should stop being "tortured" by her "ability to be unique." Great advice, Paula. Now, quickly, into the homogenizer! She is going to Hollywood. Randy interviews that Briana's "look" didn't match her "talent," by which he means, "From the way she was dressed, I thought she'd sing more like a guy."
, we meet Micah Reed. He says in a confessional that he will undoubtedly blank and lose his nerve when he actually gets into the audition. Well, at least he's keeping a positive attitude. Once Micah is in there, Simon asks him why he came. Micah claims that he's there because when he watches the show, he thinks, "I can sing better than anybody on that show," among other things. Well...this will be embarrassing for him, in all likelihood. And what will he be singing? "Old Time Rock and Roll." Eh. When he starts singing, it's so high in his range that he's really yelling to get the notes out, which is kind of how the song is supposed to sound, but somehow, it's very pinchy coming from him in a way that it isn't when Bob Seger does it. He's got talent, and he does seem pretty comfortable, but he's one I'd be very curious to hear singing something else. Simon tells him that he thinks that Micah is a legitimate kid who likes rock, unlike Patrick, who he always thought was a big phony. All the judges tell Micah he's getting a yes, but Simon cautions him that he may have to "sell [him]self out a bit" if he really likes rock. Micah nods obligingly, but to make himself feel better, Simon asks him if he knows "A Whole New World." Hee. Heeee hee. He sings some of it for the judges. His voice is shaky, which I think is nerves, but he can sing in tune, at least. He's adequate, but I also secretly suspect he's a guy who has spent his entire life perfecting his rendition of "Old Time Rock and Roll," so I'm not sure there's going to be much there once he gets past that. We'll see, because he's going to Hollywood. This despite the fact that the "sing a pop song" thing turns out to be sort of a trick question, because they actually rip him for singing it nicely, like he's supposed to. I guess they wanted him to sing "A Whole New World" like Bob Seger? What would that sound like? (Here, I will pause while you attempt to perform that morph in your brain.) Anyway, Micah's moving on.
Muppet-Boy pimps tomorrow night's show, and then it is mercifully time for a commercial.
Our victim is Charly Lowry, from Atlanta -- the city they claimed had no one talented to offer. Muppet-Boy claims in a voice-over as we see her walk into the audition room that she is both "talented" and "unique." Muppet-Boy is experiencing an adjective shortage. Charly informs Paula that she is Native American (that's the term she chooses), talks a little about her tribe, and says she thinks she's the Idol. And what does she sing? "Proud Mary." Boy, oh boy, am I tired of "Proud Mary" by the end of every set of auditions. She chooses the Ike and Tina version, very slow and bluesy at the beginning. Relative to most of the girls who sing "Proud Mary," I like her, but I really didn't need the part where she went into the fast section at the end. That is just...yeah, not necessary. But give her a song I'm not sick of, and she could be a keeper. Paula loves her. Randy loves her, too. "I felt you," he says. Simon says it was all fine, but that he finds Charly "old-fashioned." "That audition could have taken place twenty-five years ago." Well...that seems like a fairly weak argument, Simon. What does a newfangled audition look like? Do you have to do, like, a club mix or something? All by yourself? I mean, the audition from Elizabeth that he loved so much could also have taken place twenty-five years ago. This actually, though, leads to a really interesting conversation in which she asks Simon what she could do differently, and he says he really doesn't know. He says that all he does is spot talent and people who are marketable -- he can't really take things that don't work for him and make them work for him. It's an interesting admission, I think. Still, he takes her, and she's going on. Paula interviews that she loves Charly. There's a change of pace from Paula's usual demanding, negative, unsupportive attitude toward the auditioners.
We revisit stupid Colin who thought he was Clay, and who told us that they're both camp counselors. Why do I have to see him again?
Oh, maybe because now, we're going to see somebody else who wants to be Clay. Namely, one Eric Yoder, of Atlanta. Eric says that he lives in St. Louis, and in the last three years, he's had his car stolen, had his car broken into, and been shot. Shot, people. I don't think he's getting that Christmas card from the St. Louis Jaycees. In his audition, Eric sings "Somewhere Out There." And yes, he sings it very, very much like Clay. In fact, he sings it like he's had his bootlegged Clay CDs on continuous play for the last year, interrupting them only to yell, "Squeeeeeee! My dad's friend at the FBI ran this picture from Rolling Stone through one of their photo enhancers, and you can totally see the skin on the inside of Clay's belly button, squeeeeeeeee!" Eric sings the song complete with the mispronounced 'R's. Not kidding. Eric has a nice voice, but it's just not my kind of singing. As, uh, you know. Two Clay Aikens, after all, are twice as bad as one. Simon and Randy exchange the comment that he sounded like Clay. They do note, however, that he has a cool falsetto, whereas Clay's, as you recall, always sounded like something had just scared the crap out of him. Randy says yes, but Simon says Eric lacks Clay's "personality." Theeeeeeeennnn...
I'm sorry, I just passed out from laughter. I'm back now. Anyway, so Eric doesn't have Clay's incredibly magnetic personality. Eric feels me, because when Simon says he doesn't have Clay's personality, Eric asks if that's good or bad. Heh. And Randy and Paula laugh, too, so I am not the only person who gets that Clay's personality is not necessarily one you would naturally think you should emulate. Simon thinks it's a bad thing, though, that Eric doesn't have it. Still, though, solely on the strength of his voice, Eric is sent through. He is the most subdued person ever. Those crazy Mennonite descendants. I mean, maybe not, but the number of Presbyterian Yoders in the United States can dance on the head of a pin. In a fairly harsh interview, Randy says that if you close your eyes, you'd think Eric was awesome, and if you open your eyes, he's so boring you don't know why he's even there. Aw.
"Much more fun," as Randy explains, was Jennifer Hudson. She has just returned from a Disney cruise ship. So hey, she's perfect. She'll be singing Aretha Franklin's "Share Your Love With Me." Now her, I like. Even with all the wobbling and the ornamentation. She has enough voice that she can get away with it, at least to me. That is a big, big voice. Not fake-big, like girls who have been training for pageants all their lives, or girls who think Beyoncé is a diva, but really big. When she is done, Randy is in shock. "Brilliant, absolutely brilliant," he says. "No doubt about it," Paula says, "you can sing your behind off." Simon just says "very good, very very good." Here's an interesting note for you -- Simon does not tell her she needs to lose any weight, even though she is significantly bigger than others to come who shall remain nameless until we get to them. Don't get me wrong -- I think she looks perfectly fine, but Simon, logically, should not. Where's the bitchery over the size of her ass?
When we return from the commercials, Muppet-Boy brings up the matter of the serial auditioners. He explains that most people only show up once, as a young women with blonde hair and large breasts snorfles to him that "this was not meant for [her]." , though, he introduces some who have chosen to relive the horror (or make us relive the horror, I suppose) over and over again. One Amanda Mack explains that she followed the production from Atlanta to New York City to Hawaii. I'm sure they're very happy to see her now, like, "Welcome, and make sure you don't come too close to the judges' table, since the restraining order specifies 100 feet." Some others, rather than following the tour around during one year, return to do it again "season after season" (can you really say that when there have only been three?). Elias Guardo, for instance, played Zorro in Season 1, and now he's back in Season 3 with a bleach-blond butch do that Muppet-Boy calls "Sharon Stone." That's their joke for that? Another guy who did a Tarzan routine once before is back to do it again. And then there's last year's Edgar, who followed them, as Muppet-Boy says, "like a bounty hunter." Okay, that was a little better. At least it was better than "Sharon Stone." And now, Edgar is back again. Simon actually shakes Edgar's hand, but then a big "CENSORED" banner flies up on the screen to indicate that they are not airing Edgar's audition. Although I generally endorse the thwarting of fame whores through the refusal to put them on screen, the "CENSORED" banner pretty much went out with Dick Clark's Bloopers and Practical Jokes, so they could at least have come up with something a little fresher.
This serves as the rough segue to some people who auditioned more than once who were not terrible, unlike Edgar, who they would like to remind you, was terrible. Kira Scott, for instance, auditioned last season, and is back this season. She wails her way through "Have You Ever Been In Love?" quite admirably, if you like that sort of thing, and she does it with a lot of vocal power. Paula and Randy are visibly impressed. When she's through, however, Simon tells her that her problem lies in her "demeanor." He says that she needs to "change something," because, essentially, he thinks she's boring to watch. "So you're trying to imply I don't have an 'it' factor?" she snots disbelievingly. "Yes," he says, happy that she's caught on. She tells him that he's flat wrong, because whenever she's ever stepped on stage, everyone is mesmerized. Paula tells Kira that she has a "beautiful voice" and is a "very pretty girl," but she does essentially agree with Simon that Kira has no "joy" in her presentation. She questions whether that's something Kira can really work on. Randy, blown away by the voice, argues that almost nobody they run across is born great; they all have to work on something. Paula and Randy both say yes, so she's going, but Simon cautions her that his gut tells him she will not be going any farther than this. "You should come back as a bitch," Simon tells her, in a comment he just may wind up regretting. Everyone laughs, but he insists that he's serious, which I'm sure he is.
We then revisit last year's audition of Lisa Leuschner, who caused a fight between Simon and Paula when he ragged on her appearance generally and told her that she needed to lose weight. Eating disorder survivor Paula was notably peeved at this, and went out of her way to point out to Lisa that she did not need to lose weight. Note, please, that Simon tells her that the reason he's telling her this is that it's "an image business," so he's not looking out for anyone's health, thank you very much. He's purely saying, "You are so fat that no one will buy music sung by you," which is just...I mean, it's absurd. And it's especially absurd that he would tell this to Lisa and not to, as I pointed out, Jennifer, NOT TO MENTION one Ruben Studdard, who escaped this nonsense as well.
Anyway, Lisa is back, and she's brought an overly fancy version of "Vision of Love" with her. She's talented, but as usual, too much melodic evasiveness. At the end, Randy tells her that he was a little alarmed that she was going to sing a Mariah song, but that he can't deny that she did a very good job. Paula, to her credit, remembers Lisa perfectly. Randy doesn't, and he asks what was said to her last time. Lisa smiles bravely and says, "Simon told me I needed to lose weight, and you [Paula] threw your pen down, and you [Randy] said, 'That's not true,'" she says, rather poignantly and accidentally proving that you never ever forget a single detail of an experience like that. Ah, the voices in your head. Anyway, Simon reiterates that he still likes her voice, and that he still thinks she needs to lose what he now terms "a bit of weight." Lisa says she disagrees, and says she thinks the issue is that she needs to "dress better." Hee. I liked that, and I also agree with her. She looked schlumpy in the first audition, but it was because of other things, not because she was fat. She insists that the money from winning the contest will really help, and this makes Paula laugh. "I'm serious, I don't think it's a thing about weight," Lisa says firmly. Simon now changes tactics yet again, and tells her that she looks out of shape. Which is not the same thing, of course, because he has no idea whether that's true or not, and which is also utter bullshit, because he doesn't ask the bony girls whether they're in shape, and which is doubly utter bullshit because he never asked Ruben, or Clay, or Guarini, or frankly any guy in the history of this competition whether he worked out. Simon Cowell does not care whether she is in shape. Simon Cowell likes one or two types, and Lisa is not either of them, and that's fine, and I wish he would stop coming up with ways to make it sound like girls who don't match that type are defective instead of just admitting that it's a personal preference of his that's at work. Simon makes some conciliatory remarks meant to keep fat people and everyone who doesn't hold them in utter contempt from hating his guts. Paula and Randy say yes to Lisa, and Simon -- who normally doesn't bother to make a big deal out of the fact that he would have said no to someone who's going on anyway -- snots that he would have said no, but that there's nothing he can do about it.
Incidentally, in the wrap-up segment, you can see that Kira is also bigger than Lisa, and Simon didn't say squat to her about it, either. Whatever, Simon.
Now we see a segment featuring some girls who beg and beg to get on, like they're trying to buy gold for cheap over on The Apprentice. "I have 'it,'" one girl says, and Simon's all, "No. You don't." Hee. "Please, I wanna go so bad!" says another girl. One girl promises them "everything [she's] got." And then she promises it again. And again. This goes on and on, and it's just sad. Oh, the people who beg. When has that ever worked?
up is our brush with what Muppet-Boy terms "the fanatics." Randy explains that while they were in New York, they ran into a guy who fanatically adores Paula Abdul. (Yes, there is one such person.) We see him performing in his audition, and it turns out that he has memorized all of Paula's choreography from some video or other (no, I don't know, and no, I don't care). In an interview, Paula says that "when that happens" (which I guess she would like you to think is often), she stands back and has no idea what to say. When Warren Malone (for that is his name) is seen, he is in the audition room telling Paula how very much he loves her and how very much it means to him to meet her. Simon leans over to one side with his head in his hand, experiencing complete disgust. He also then sings (or chants) something of hers (no, I don't know, and no, I don't care), which impresses her doubly. Paula offers him a hug, so he comes around the table and gives her one. And, as Randy interviews, he seems to be holding on just a little tightly. Randy says he thought he might have to break it up. He adds that Simon, however, took the attitude that Warren could have Paula for all he cared. That was an interesting brief descent into madness.
After another commercial break, we return to a lecture from Muppet-Boy about the importance of preparation. We see a few dopes pouring honey down their throats, but Muppet-Boy says they'll never be as sweet or as cute as Diana Degarmo. Oh, Diana. Diana is a sixteen-year-old ball of energy who would only be about 60% hateworthy based on her endless toothy pageant-style grin, but who is completely hideous because she is wearing a fuzzy pink beret. That's right. A fuzzy. Pink. Beret. She bubbles to Muppet-Boy that if she's not wearing all black and pink, she always at least has something black and pink on. Like her bracelet. My God, I hate her. In an interview, Paula calls her "a cute girl," but insists that she can also actually sing. She sings "Chain of Fools," but -- well, Simon's actually going to say exactly what I think in about fifteen seconds, so we'll just wait. When Diana is done, Paula says that being sixteen is her only problem, and Randy agrees. Simon, on the other hand, catches her other completely obvious problem, which is that she smiled and wiggled like Shirley Temple all through the song. Which is not how you sing "Chain of Fools." It doesn't matter how much vocal talent you have -- if you don't understand that you can't sing "Chain of Fools" while essentially winking, you just aren't ready. There are sixteen-year-olds -- hell, there are eight-year-olds -- who know more about interpreting music than that, so that's not the excuse, either. It's the kind of quality in singers that unnerves me, because it makes me think they're singing completely mechanically. Is she even hearing the words? Is she listening to herself? "I'm added to your chain of fools"? Does that sound like a happy, perky, eternally "up" girl in a pink beret? They send her to Hollywood. Blech. Hate her.
We now go into the segment about bringing plenty of support with you. Sara Logan, for instance -- who looks kind of like a bustier Gwen Stefani with stronger features -- has brought her boyfriend with her, and he's going to try out, too. She's the first to take the leap. She sings, and she's quite good. Good enough, that is, that when she's done, Simon says, "You are somebody, Sara, who after two seconds, you just go, 'yes.'" And I agree. She's too good not to take. "Superb," Simon says, and that's really all they have. It's one of the least detailed acceptances I've ever seen.
Now, her boyfriend Sergey auditions. He's there as a joke, and his silly audition of "I'm Too Sexy" bears it out. I mean, it's nice of him to come with his girlfriend, but he is sort of wasting everybody's time, so...whatever. Simon thanks him for being an American singing an English song with a French accent, and that will be all for Sergey. Yeah, no kidding. In an interview, Randy points out that slapping your own ass for true love is really something special. Heh.
After a commercial for Tru Calling (the show that refuses to DIE BEFORE ITS TIME ["until now -- we've murdered it" -- Wing Chun]), we return to the audition nightmare that is ongoing. Muppet-Boy says that the best way to deal with your audition is to maintain the position that "you can't suck; it's not possible." Okay, that was slightly funny, and now we get to see some of the auditioners' greatest excuses for sucking. We see a girl who, upon being told by Simon that she "shouts," says that she had strep throat. Another girl with insanely pink lipstick says that she does better in front of a lot of people than in front of just a few. One guy thinks he shouldn't have told them his major, because he thinks that did him in. What? ["My guess is that his major was Musical Theatre, and he got the dreaded 'too Broadway.'" -- Wing Chun] A girl all in pink announces that she was bitten by a bat and had to get rabies shots. A girl all in red says she's been sick for two days. One says she's hungry. One says he's nervous -- oh, and also, he has a cold. Hee. One says she drank too much water. One was thrown off by the weather. No, really. Bat Girl also just got back from Mexico, by the way. Red Girl Who's Been Sick For Two Days has duct-taped herself a corset, but I'm not sure how telling the judges that is supposed to help her at all. Another thinks she was actually too good. Another is there for "extreme stage fright therapy." Red Girl's pantyhose also don't fit. "Oh, I apologize -- you're through to the round, then!" Simon says, and I cackle. "Guess what?" Randy says in an interview. "If you suck, you really suck." Of course, if that message ever got through to the auditioning demographic, the show would be over.
Someone who doesn't suck is Donnie Williams. He's one of those good singers I don't like, by which I mean you can tell how talented he is, and if his form of bluesy R&B were your kind of thing, I'm sure you'd love him. It's just not my thing. I also think he would benefit enormously from accompaniment of some kind. Simon tells him that he comes across too old, which is why he can't win the competition. Randy protests that the voice is awesome. "I think this guy has to be in," Randy says. Simon relents and puts him through. After all, "you seem old" is a pretty lame excuse. Oh, and also -- Donnie is bigger than Lisa as well, so I'm sure Simon meant to tell him that he needed to lose weight, but just forgot.
Oh, look, a montage. There's me looking bored, and there's me looking depressed, and there's me rolling my eyes, and there's me hitting fast-forward. What's more, it's a montage of people who are show-off-y dickheads, so it's even more boring than most montages. Certainly was a lot of ass-wiggling at these auditions, though, I'll say that.
And now, flirting. Alan flirted with Paula to great effect, you will recall. Surprisingly, they choose now to show us that Alan auditioned once before, too. Paula, however, was not there at the time, and he went nowhere. Thus is the fate of the girl we see , who is also interested in flirting, but has not noticed that it will not be working, because Simon and Randy -- with whom she has chosen to flirt -- think she's creepy. She tries to get all, "Gee, what don't I have that you want?" with Simon, and he returns her hot-hot-hot tone, only he says, "Somebody who can sing in tune." It's kind of hilarious.
, we meet the actually talented Marque Lynche, who is a dancer, but has chosen not to dance on this particular show at this particular moment. Even after Randy prods him, he declines to boogie. Paula interviews that she felt a connection with Marque because he was a dancer, even though he didn't want to dance. He sings "I Can't Make You Love Me," which is a dicey choice, because I think of that as a strongly feminine song for some reason. He has a beautiful voice, though. He has a few pretty pitchy moments, but I like the tone. When he's done, Paula calls him out for being nervous, and he confirms that he is nervous. Simon's comment is that Marque would normally find it rather hard to get a contract, because he sounds like a classically trained singer rather than a pop star. Interestingly, despite his usual conviction that fair or not, bucking the mold means it's not worth dragging you along, Simon says Marque should "definitely" go on. Paula says he needs to choose a better song, and I certainly hope she means a better song for him, because it's a very good song, it's just a little bit of an odd fit, maybe. I love him, and I love his smile. And he is very happy to be headed for Hollywood.
When we get back from the break, Muppet-Boy says, "So, let's talk about the cameras." Oh, yes. Let's. Because God knows they form the center of Muppet-Boy's own existence, so he's an authority, after all. He describes the bevy of cameras that are deployed to follow everyone around, and then we watch a sequence in which a camera is literally used to shove a kid's head up against the wall as he protests. That has a nice prison-riot feel to it. One girl decides to try to give out her phone number while the camera is on her. Who puts on the best shows for the cameras? Oh, yes. The angry people. The rejected.
One girl is comforted by her mother while she weeps through her curly blonde locks. Another sniffles that they told her she didn't have a chance in hell, which she describes as "kinda upsetting." "He wanted a number one show," another girl says through her tears, "he ain't gonna get it without me on it." That's so true. No one watches this show. And you know why not? Because the public completely cares about the suckiness of the people who are generally available to be voted for. There is swearing from various rejectees, one of whom just says, "Fuck you, Simon." One particularly frightening-looking thing in a white tank top, red blazer, and...black furry scarf...does her best primal scream. People kick walls and doors, there is more swearing at Simon. A girl gives Muppet-Boy the finger, and we see that one guy throw water on Simon again. More swearing from another girl whose mortified mom keeps telling her to shut up. Heh. "They want to make the show good," says a guy who looks like he came directly from shooting "Men on Film" from In Living Color. "Choose people who can actually sing!" I guess he told them. Another girl insists that everyone who listens to her knows she can sing, so they're all wrong about her. Some angry father accuses Simon and Randy of robbing his son. One final bitter pill says, "I hope when they're eating it, when they don't have any viewers, and the American Idol sucks, I'll be making my first CD." Well, one out of four ain't bad. "You wouldn't want to work with these people anyway," some girl's mother tells her. Yeah -- yeah, Mom, she didn't even want that record contract! "American Idol sucks, but I will be back here year," says some young man who Simon probably did not tell that he needed to lose weight.
So that's all, folks -- Shack will be back for tomorrow night's trip to Hollywood. The last thing I can offer is that it's like Shack always tells you -- once I figure out which one I hate the most, you will know that he or she will be coming in second.