Tuesday. Ryan "Powder Your Face with Sunshine" Seacrest greets us with the final set of semifinalists on the Seal, and reminds us about the singing and the voting and the sucking and whatever.
Credits. I'm still waiting for the part of the competition where the finalists are required to shoot golden microphones out of their torsos.
Ryan greets us again on the Seal in an untucked blue shirt and gray pants that recalls the days when the mechanic look was popular -- back in the late '90s. Fashion plate, my ass. He tells us he's still "giddy" from the quality of last week's performances. Yeah, we all are. Why, I've been just breaking out into spontaneous giggles all week. Shut up, Ryan. He reminds us of the voting and such and then says the judges are now in as much demand as the script for Gigli 2. And now you know what happened to the jokes Billy Crystal rejected as too obvious. Speaking of the Oscars, Ryan introduces Simon "Ain't That a Kick in the Head" Cowell by mentioning that he didn't see Simon picking up an Oscar for his cameo in Scary Movie 3. The most cutting response here would be for Simon to say, "Funny, I didn't see you at the Oscars at all," but he just blandly asks if he's supposed to reply to such a comment. Ryan idiotically says that Simon's response shows better acting than he did in the movie. Yeah, because he doesn't pause after every line and stare into the camera with a glassy-eyed rictus of a smile? Like you, Ryan? You might as well go, "I'm just keeeeeding!" after every insult. Ryan introduces Paula "Everybody Loves Somebody" Abdul by calling her "Dame Paula Abdul," and Randy "Memories Are Made of This" Jackson with yet another nonsensical dog reference.
Ryan heads back to Pimp Central to introduce tonight's crop of eight. Susan Vulaca does the "raise the roof" gesture, and if she wants to figure out where things went wrong for her tonight, it started right there. Susan (I steadfastly refuse to call a grown woman "Suzy") explains the pronunciation of her last name. It's pronounced "Whatever." Actually, her name is Fijian, and apparently they pronounce the "C" like a "V." Her last name is pronounced "Voo-la-va." There, I spent valuable seconds explaining details about a woman who doesn't even make it to the finals. I hope you're happy.
Susan explains in her interview that she won the Arizona Idol title, as we see her kissing the Seal. Yes, we all know you kids are evil, but can you keep your worship of the dark elders to yourself, please? Because she won this contest in Arizona, she was allowed to skip all the lines and audition in New York. During her practices, she taught Debra and Michael some Fijian. Did you know that Curly of The Three Stooges was bilingual? Apparently those "Nya nya nya!" sounds he made whenever Moe hit him were actually words in the Fijian tongue. Well, that's the sound Debra makes, anyway. Susan also has a lot of clothes and isn't taking this contest for granted. Whatever the hell that means. Like any of these kids are going to go, "Oh, this? Pfffft. I just needed something to distract myself for a few months before summering in Monte Carlo with the Vanderbilts."
Susan heads to the Seal in a black dress that has a weird gray square in the front. At first I thought it was some sort of discoloration, but upon closer examination, it might be some weird pocket or purse. Yeah, it looks like a purse has been sewn into her dress. If that catches on, I hope somebody finds a way to make it less ugly than it is in this instance. Susan also has lovely, large frizzy hair -- sort of like a female Justin Guarini. Susan's singing "Unbreak My Heart," and she'sfine. She's not bad, but not particularly exciting. She's flawless, but lots of things are flawless without being interesting. Like a very pretty egg. She's technically excellent, but utterly uninspiring.
Judges. Randy says the song was a good choice for Susan's voice, because he doesn't remember her having such a range before. We wouldn't know, of course. Paula declares, after spitting about fifteen attempts to start a sentence, that Susan has shown vast improvement over her performances in Pasadena. Again, we wouldn't know. They certainly had plenty of time to pull out some clips from her performances (they showed a glimpse of her initial auditions), but who cares? It's not like anybody else has developed a fan base due to what was seen of them during the early rounds, regardless of talent or anything. [cough most of the guys cough] Simon says she sounded good, but asks the other two judges if they heard anything "original" in the performance. They agree that they didn't, really. Simon says Susan's performance was forgettable. People boo, like they haven't already forgotten her. Simon says that they're looking for "star quality" in addition to somebody who's a good singer, and Susan doesn't have it. Susan heads back to Ryan, who blathers on about Simon and Paula's "relationship" falling apart after those kisses last week. Whatever. Like Susan cares. Shut up. Ryan brings up Paula's comments about Susan's improvement. What did she do to improve? She's taking vocal lessons. Ohhh! You get good at things by practicing. That's just fascinating. Ryan gives the blah blah blah text-message-vote-cakes.
Commercials. Is there any reprieve from Ryan, anywhere? They manage to slip him into every single damn commercial break, either for [product-placed wireless service] or for his stupid syndicated show. I even have to put up with commercials for his morning radio show in Los Angeles. Can't somebody do something about his psychotic, desperate grimace? Anybody?
“ Filler. Pointless. They needed thirty-two people, so somebody has to fill up the space. One, two, three. Four, five, six. Seven, eight, nine. Ten, eleven, twelve. Ladybugs, twelve, at the ladybug picnic! What? If they're going to stick filler in the show, then so am I. ”
When we return, it's time for balding, 35-year-old John Preator. I had this whole elaborate joke theme planned over John's last name, because I thought it was "Praetor," which was what certain judges were called back in the days of the Roman Empire. I thought it sounded perfect for one of those comic-book heroes who somehow have last names that seem to tie in to what they do, or are just excessively masculine. He was going to be a Punisher-style vigilante. And then I discovered that his name was spelled "ea," not "ae." Oh, well. Believe me, that little story is the most interesting thing that will ever happen to this man. In his interview, he insists to us he's a twentysomething college student from Provo, Utah. He's boring. He says that everybody says he's "reserved" (meaning "boring") but sometimes he likes to "bust out" and have fun. Which he demonstrates by trying to do a cartwheel in wardrobe and about killing himself, like a seven-year-old doing a dare. He thinks it's absolutely hysterical. Nuns are more fun than John. Virus scans are more fun than John. John Ashcroft is more fun than John. Brian Dunkleman is more fun than John. Oh, and he reminds us that he sucked in Pasadena. Man, aren't you just looking forward to this performance?
John heads to the Seal in his boring-colored shirt and boring jeans to bore us with his boringness. He's singing "That's What Love Is All About." He's -- wait for it -- boring. Filler. Pointless. They needed thirty-two people, so somebody has to fill up the space. One, two, three. Four, five, six. Seven, eight, nine. Ten, eleven, twelve. Ladybugs, twelve, at the ladybug picnic! What? If they're going to stick filler in the show, then so am I. They played jump rope but the rope just broke, so they just sat around telling knock-knock jokes. Ladybugs, twelve, at the ladybug picnic. I haven't watched Sesame Street in years. Somebody I know with a kid says the show has gotten really regimented, which I am disappointed to hear. The semi-randomness of it all was part of the fun. Here's a song about the letter "I." And now, let's watch old ladies make tortillas!
Uh, anyway. Where were we? Ah, yes, the boring. Randy says he's glad it's over. He thinks it was "painful." The audience boos. The kids in Pimp Central look all shocked. Paula says his pitch was off the whole song. There's silence from the crowd because they know, of course, that if Paula doesn't like your singing, you might as well have your voice box removed. Simon says that John would be perfect if they ever did American Idol as an ice-dancing musical. Heh. That reminds me of when O-Town performed "Liquid Dreams" during some ice-skating show on television and they censored out half the words. And this was years before Janet. Anyway, needless to say, a suggestion to follow O-Town's career trajectory is not a compliment. Randy wonders what the hell Simon is talking about. Simon says he sees John as an ice skater, not a good singer. Guh? Is it because John is prematurely balding and is a big flamer? That doesn't necessarily make him Scott Hamilton, you know. The audience laughs at Simon's incoherence. John heads back to Ryan, who asks him about all the awful things everybody said. Unsurprisingly, John didn't even think he was off-pitch. Ryan gives us John's numbers, because he has to.
up is Heather Piccinini. Heather was the one compared to Kim Caldwell, so she darkened her hair. Or rather, "returned it to its more natural non-blonde look." There's a brief shot in her interview of her hanging out with Kim Caldwell, who is still apparently begging for our attention on the TV Guide channel, if her microphone is any indication. Is there anything lower on the infotainment reporter totem pole than being a correspondent on the TV Guide channel? I guess there has to be somebody out there for Melissa Rivers to look down her nose at. She says she wants to look different from Kim. The fashion guru declares her de-Caldwelled. She's wearing a lacy black torso-revealing camisole and pink cargo pants. See, that's different from Kim because Kim wore tan cargo pants. Everybody refers to Debra as just "Byrd" (her last name). I wonder if she tells people to do that. Otherwise they're all just rude. Either possibility is likely. Oh, and you have to believe in yourself. Heather said so.
Heather heads out to the seal in the outfit she showed us earlier (plus a hideous black choker) to sing "New Attitude." Oy. Why on earth would anybody with half a brain pick the song that was the death knell of one of the better singers in the first season? And her performance style is exactly like Kim Caldwell's. She prances around, points at people, and snaps that head around in sassy desperation. There's a subtle difference between "selling it" and "begging us to take it -- please, pretty please with sugar on it" in a performance, which neither Heather nor Kim ever understood. Heather's voice is loud, yet uninteresting.
Judges. Randy says Heather sounds like a lounge singer for a hotel band. Ouch. And so very true. Paula says that Heather just didn't pick the right song for this part of the competition. Howstrangely observant. I just now noticed that Paula's sleeveless top is decorated with little rainbows. You just know that Paula's house is full of tacky little tchochkes that she bought because they were "cute." Simon says he wouldn't want to stay in the hotel Randy was referring to earlier if Heather were singing there. The audience boos. Simon says that Heather was trying too hard, and her performance verged on "desperate." Sing it, Brother Simon! He says it's a typical "stage school" auditions, what with each kid's desperate desire to be picked showing through in the performances. He says that her facial expressions were "ugly." Paula and Randy are stupid and ignore everything Simon just said except for "Heather" and "ugly," and they argue about it. Simon explains that she doesn't think Heather was ugly; he repeats that the desperate facial expressions she made during the performance were ugly. And they were. The audience boos anyway. Whatever. Heather heads back to Ryan, where she gives the expected oblivious responses that she picked a song that showed off her "personality" and she didn't think she did that bad. Ryan gives her numbers.
“ I still have the feeling of a balloon slowly deflating through his performances. He's just too low-key. I mean, you can be a laid-back crooner, but you still need to have some sort of charisma. Not only is he putting me to sleep, he looks as though he's putting himself to sleep. ”
Commercials. I think it's funny how Listerine feels its basic product tastes worse than I think it does. Calm down, guys.
When we return it's time for John Stevens, who has wisely dropped the "IV," as you do unless you're the vice president of the junior class at an Ivy League school. In his interview, he tells us how he heard his first Frank Sinatra album at the age of five and became fascinated with the Rat Pack. Man, if we were all shaped by the albums our parents played when we were kids, I'd be fronting a Deep Purple tribute band. Smoke on the waaaaaaterrrr! Between that and the mood speakers, it just now hit me how I was totally raised by hippies. Believe it or not, I didn't realize it until just now. They show John singing "I Left My Heart in San Francisco," both on the Seal and in Pasadena. They leave out the other two performances in Pasadena where he sucked and forgot the words. He says that he'll be making some alterations in his image; we see him show off a black suit that looks exactly the same as the suit he was wearing before. He says he's going to pick a more "pop"-ish song this time.
John heads to the Seal to sing Billy Joel's "She's Always a Woman to Me." Well at least he's slowly moving forward through time. Perhaps by April he'll be singing grunge? I am liking his voice a little bit more each time I hear him, but I don't think I'll Photoshopping him into my prom picture anytime soon. His verses flow a little bit better, and he doesn't look as though he's going to burst into tears at any second. But I still have the feeling of a balloon slowly deflating through his performances. He's just too low-key. I mean, you can be a laid-back crooner, but you still need to have some sort of charisma. Not only is he putting me to sleep, he looks as though he's putting himself to sleep. Oh, and if I've said it once, I've said it a million times -- stop tilting your heads like that, guys! It doesn't make you look sensitive; it makes you look like a confused dog. Anyway, overall a clean performance, but he just doesn't impress me.
Judges. Randy says he loves the song, but not John's rendition. Randy also admits that though he told John he didn't like the Rat Pack nonsense, he preferred it over this performance, which he said was putting him to sleep. Paula says she also misses John's retro vibe. See, even the judges need to learn about the box. Stay in your box! If you leave the box, they'll get you! It happens every time. Decorate your box. Make the box a little different every time we see it. But above all, stay in your box. Remember, you're all one-trick ponies with different costumes each week. Simon points out that they can't do a Dean Martin theme every week. Yeah, but if history is any judge, there will probably be more songs from that era than from anything, you know, now. Not that I'm complaining. Simon is amazingly articulate in explaining John's problems here, which means that he must like John on some level. He points out that when John sings contemporary songs, everybody misses the older songs, and that's not fair to him. He also thinks John is a lousy "performer," but attributes that to his age and the fact that cheesy show choreographers haven't gotten their paws on him yet. But Simon thinks John has "potential" (no, not that evil word!) and sounds distinct compared to the others in the competition. After arguing a bit with Randy over whether John truly sounds distinct, Simon says that he hopes John does well.
“ Ryan, if you feel that way, why don't you take the Roman brothers home and have them perform a concert for you every single night? I think I just described somebody's Hell, possibly mine. ”
John heads back to Ryan, and even though Simon said the nicest things about him, Ryan still has to dwell on Simon's comment that John is a terrible "performer." Ryan asks Simon how he can say that about John and still select him for the semifinals. God, not that old, withered, rotten chestnut again. Simon says they liked John's voice, not necessarily his stage presence. What can John do to improve? "Just get better," is Simon's response. Ryan whines that such comments don't help, because, you know, that's why Simon became a music producer. To help people. Simon compares John to Clay, pointing out that Clay's performances improved throughout the competition. Ugh. His popularity grew. I really didn't see him getting much better. Ryan asks if John can grow. God, shut up, Ryan. Simon points out that we'll find out if John gets chosen to the finals. Simon then turns the tables on Ryan ("since you're the expert here," he drolly observes) and asks him if he thinks John can grow. Ryan says he does. What about the others? Ryan looks around briefly, and realizing that his entire career is based on exaggerating the talents of everybody in the pop industry, says he does. See, that's why he likes to insult Simon. He's the only guy Ryan is allowed to insult. Simon responds, "That's why you are a host and I am a judge." Ryan: 0; Simon: 200,002 and counting. Ryan brings up the bullshit about the judges putting these kids through to the semifinals, like Simon is responsible for the format of the show. Ryan, if you feel that way, why don't you take the Roman brothers home and have them perform a concert for you every single night? I think I just described somebody's Hell, possibly mine. Simon slams the door on Ryan's brand of idiocy by saying, "You find me a show that can produce thirty-two stars and you'll be a billionaire rather than a thousandaire." Ryan: 0; Simon: 200,003 and counting. Ryan asks John if he thinks he can sing to fit the different themes. John says he can't, so he's quitting right now and walks away. Or, alternatively, gives the only possible answer to such a dumb-ass question. Ryan finally gives us the numbers to vote for John.
Commercials. Dammit. I just want the world to know that I was halfway through the performance and forgot to save and my computer crashed. Hate. Can we pretend that it's still written? No? Fine. I hate you.
up is Jasmine Trias, who has the trifecta of this season of being very young, being a girl, and wearing pink. And she's from Hawaii. Apparently she picked up the baton from Jonah for her leg in the Flog Your Cultural Identity Relay. She wants to teach the world about Hawaii. By teaching them the "hang loose" sign and the hula. Great. I want to teach you all about California. I'm going to do it by showing you how to be a vegan and get a three-picture deal with Miramax. There, now you know all about us. She does, indeed, show every soul she can find how to hula. There are the other semifinalists. There's Debra and Michael. There's a security guard. Well, I feel really educated by her efforts. Apparently she did well in the initial auditions, but Simon told her in Pasadena that he worried she wouldn't hold up under the stress of the contest. Because she's so young. And cute. And pink! But she's going to prove him wrong.
“ George seems to think his face looks young, and not forty-four. Maybe he's so happy all the time because he lives in his own little Peter Pan world full of fun adventures and mermaids. ”
Jasmine heads to the Seal in a cute pink top and a cute pink, white, and red dress and a cute flower in her hair. She's there to belt out "Run to You." She has a nice voice, but she warbles her way through the entire song. She doesn't hold any note for more than .seconds before fluttering it up and down the scale. God, I hate that so much. Why does anybody like that? Why? Why do people think that indicates talent? Why don't people suspect that it means she can't hold a note steady? Whyyyyy? Somebody tell me! Bah. Anyway, everybody else seems to like her.
Judges. Randy loves the sound of her voice and thinks she has a lot of "potential." But he thinks she picked a song that was a little too difficult for her. We're reminded that wee little Jasmine is merely seventeen. Paula thinks that Jasmine was a total pro and made the song "her own" with her incessant warblings. Simon says that Jasmine's going to get a lot of votes because she's seventeen, has a nice smile, and has a flower in her hair. He repeats that "potentially" she's a good singer. You know, it occurs to me that the reason they're flogging all this "potential" crap is to make their top choices a little less secure in their abilities, making them easier to control. You don't want to lavish praise on the ones you believe are really good and developed, only to have it backfire when they actually demand crazy things like control over their own destinies. Keep telling them they have "potential" and they'll let you mold them. That's my conspiracy theory of the week. Simon concludes that Jasmine is "good enough." Jasmine heads back to Ryan, who points out that Simon blandly complimented her. Is she happy? She's relieved. Ryan reminds us she's really young and still has to study in school. Because that's what young people do. And she's young, y'all!
Commercials. "Will John Edwards really drop out of the presidential race?" You just gotta love how the local newscasts insist on trying to turn everything into a tease.
Presenting an age contrast from Jasmine is forty-four-year-old George Huff, here to careen his way into our hearts like an underage drunken driver (note to Donnie Williams's lawyer: allegedly). Except for the "underage" part. Yes, George is back, and I like him for no other reason that it allows me to dust off adjectives like "ebullient." George tells us he's from New Orleans and flips omelets for a living. Fortunately he doesn't feel the need to show women how to flash their boobs for beads in order to teach us about where he comes from. And thank God, because Lisa Wilson's on this show and you just know she would. He's excessively cheerful, of course, and we see him laughing and doing that jump-heel-clicking thing on the way into the studio, like he's really auditioning to be in Oklahoma!. There's absolutely no reference to the fact that he was originally cut in Pasadena. We have always been at war with Oceania. George was always a semifinalist. George reminds us that Simon said he looked old. He seems to think his face looks young, and not forty-four. Maybe he's so happy all the time because he lives in his own little Peter Pan world full of fun adventures and mermaids.
George hits the Seal to sing "Always and Forever." He's wearing a red shirt over an orange tee and jeans. Ow. "Clashing" and "young" are not synonyms. He starts off terribly off-pitch. He gets into the song and pulls it together, but he's still merely okay to me. He's got a little too much warbling going on. Not as bad as Jasmine. Somebody has to actually pick you up and shake you while you're singing in order for you to warble as much as Jasmine. He's a little rough in spots, but overall, he's okay. He smiles through the whole song, of course.
Judges. Randy says George started off shaky but got much better. He thinks George may be the best male singer in the competition, which is funny, considering that he was already cut once. Paula says George has a big light around him. Oh, she's seeing auras again. She repeats Randy's comments about him starting off shaky, but getting better. And she likes that he's warm and friendly. Simon says that George has a good voice, but is like "the back line of the Supremes." Nobody gets his comment, of course. He goes on to explain that Diana Ross wasn't the best singer, but she had "star quality." He thinks the other Supremes actually sang better than she did. People freak out at this comment, as though Simon had said Madonna was a better singer than Maria Callas. Oh, please. First of all, I doubt any of the members of the audience could name a Supreme if their lives depended on it. Second of all, they probably couldn't name a Supremes song if their life depended on it. Third of all, Simon's probably right. About the Supremes, anyway. Simon says that he doesn't think George has the charisma to be a star. Which is a silly thing to say. George has tons of charisma. It's just probably not the right charisma to be a pop star. See, to be a male pop star, you have to look at everybody as though you're either going to fuck them or beat them up. Or I guess lecture them condescendingly, in Clay's case. George looks like he's going to give us all hugs. And ponies. George heads back to Pimp Central. Ryan reminds us that George is a fun guy having a good time. Ryan insults Simon with a tanning bed joke. Yes, he's just that oblivious. It also turns out that George does a good Randy Jackson impression, which he shows off. It's eerily good. He's got the slight stutter down and everything. Ryan gives us George's numbers.
up is Lisa Wilson and her giant boobs. She tells us in her interview that she's not at all nervous. She "thrives" on knowing that 30 million people are watching her doing what she loves. So she's an exhibitionist? I can hardly contain my shock. She flops down on the Seal and declares, "I love you, American Idol!" My god, she makes Kim Caldwell seem like a hermit. She shows off a couple of outfits that are, of course, held up by her own personal floaties. And she thought she knew what she wanted to sing, but changed her song or whatever. She says that she's "stepping outside the box" for something that's "a little more fun." Oh, good. That always works out well.