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The Good: "The Hotness," a Hatchetface look-alike with voice and peppy personality to match; the tragic David Mills; an aggressively weird, sex-offendery hairdresser who thinks he's Taylor's twin and gets chased off by security; and a giant red-headed person with intellectual disadvantages. There's Darwin Something, the most bizarre thing, who apparently writes American Idol fan fiction with her mother, the second most bizarre thing, and is so afflicted withâ¦whatever it isâ¦that she named her daughter "Darwin." Also there is Nick Zitzmann, actual madman from Utah, glassy-eyed, poorly gifted in vocals, overly gifted in strangeness; the sweetest thing you ever did see. He takes his thumbs-down like a consummate trooper -- if one shell-shocked and hallucinating -- then wanders off into nowhere to be nuts some more.
The Not Compelling TV: Thirteen-year-long Lifetime saga drama entitled Amy Salgado: A Mom, about this woman who hates her husband and has baroque plans to ensure she has the gayest child in history. Melissa Stavros, very well-spoken but with image issues -- strange proportions and an outfit which combine to make her look like she's wearing a peculiar costume -- that are auto-"no"s. Her menagerie of equally quirky-looking friends seem quite nice. Finally, there's a fake-ass Adam and Dirk pair that so are not even. One of them looks like Brian Peppers and the other one looks like my brother Lyle, if my brother Lyle were from The X-Files.
The Actually Good: Blake Lewis, 25, who beatboxes awesome and sings "Crazy," and is his own personal Guy Sigsworth on himself, and is totally cute and from the future; hot-as-hell Tommy Daniels, with huge afro and great voice; and Rudy Cardenas, 28, from North (-west) Hollywood; Ryan knows what I'm talking about. Anna Kearns is 6'4" and totally interesting regardless; Jordin Sparks is 16 and beautiful and self-possessed. The Malakar Siblings are variously interesting and weird: Shyamali, the older sister, is confident and has a very pretty voice; Sanjaya, the younger brother, has a huge smile and an even better voice, and tries to keep it a secret that the judges liked him more, but that just results in more awkwardness⦠And seven other people that all blurred together in fast-forward to save time for making fun of the mentally challenged. Meet Joe R in Memphis Tuesday for some more of this crap. Want more? The full recap starts right below!
Ryan's looking very nice and scruffy surrounded by 9,000 of Seattle's Best Wannabes, standing in the typical shitty weather. Seattle's really just the sexier version of Portland, and we've talked about Portland already. Did you notice the horrible giant twitching of Taylor Hicks on the big billboard thing at the end of the credits? Did you think about how we're going to be seeing that two or three times a week, every time this stupid show comes on? I sure did. I thought about it for a while, actually. Last time the show was in Seattle, Ryan tells us, was Season One. Not even Ryan can put a shine on them coming back. The theme for this episode is that Seattle is worthless in the larger scheme of Idol, and that every second they spend there is total agony. Which is what I always figured, so it's not surprising. There are several people screaming at the camera that they love the rain, which proves that they are sick individuals, which means they'll be going through to the judges but no further. Everybody brought their stupid dogs, which I'm sure made for a fabulous smell throughout the proceedings. Maybe that's why everybody's in such a shitty mood: wet dog is right up there with the Pussycat Dolls for me personally, and while I cannot smell the dogs through the television screen, there's more than enough Pussycat Dolls to make up for it. I like to think of PCD as a disorder where your vagina falls out without warning, and you make horrible noises to express the fact that everybody with daddy issues should have the opportunity to work them out on camera, no matter how rich or famous or fake L.A. famous they become. People screaming, people screaming. Oh Seattle. At least you are not Portland.
Randy's wearing a cute shirt with blue pinstripes and a banker collar. I like the timeline on this show, because you can see what clothes were actually cool, and then the season they were at Old Navy, which means you and I are wearing what they are wearing on the show, and it's like time travel. Remember Brandon Groves (26, Wheeling WV) who dressed like a cop one year, and sang horribly the song "I Shot The Sherriff"? I kind of did but not really. This year he is dressed like Uncle Sam, but still cannot sing. He looks a lot better than I remembered. He tells them about how he sucked before, and they can't remember either, and he goes, "And Paula, I am a police officer." I don't know what point he's proving, except that Paula likes costumery, but that's not going to help him. He sings "God Bless America," and it sounds the same: like Biz Markie's more popular older brother that was on the football team. Paula actually goes, "You've gotta be kidding me," before his unanimous and obvious no. He's sad, and outside he takes his big stupid hat off and tells Ryan that they didn't take him seriously. Standing in balloon pants with a giant lace cravat and looking like a total dillweed, he says this. Ryan clucks his fake sympathy; inside, Paula wonders whether year he'll be dressed as an Indian chief. Without looking up or cracking a smile, Simon does this hilarious Catskills Dice Clay sound like, "Hey-oh!" It's awesome. Brandon complains that it was nerves. Also a sucky voice, but props for trying.
You know who doesn't have a problem with nerves? The Hotness. What she does have a problem with, though, is a very long list. Starting with the face, which is kind of harlequin ichthyosis-esque, with terrible skin and dead eyes, and a strange voice where she sounds affronted all the time. She should have played the neighbor on Ugly Betty is how aversive she is, and the delusion... I would have to say on the list of Hotness issues, it's reality at the very top. Just the whole shebang. She tells us in her weird voice that she has her own unique sound and style and thus cannot compare herself to anyone famous or listenable. But if she had to, it's Mariah Carey that first comes to mind. There's a long -- I would say exploitative, but she's asking for it so hardcore and so forcefully that really it's just a Christmas present of exactly what she wanted, because she's not going to get the problem here either way -- a long shot of her doing things that are not okay. There's a closeup on her fucked up face with Isaac Hayes sexy music, and a scary dance with tossing hair like Buffy right before she was going to explode that time, and a short disquisition on how they started calling her The Hotness in high school. Which they did not, or if they did, it was a bucket of pig's blood situation that she never understood. Which is probably best for everybody, because I do believe that the Hotness is screwed up enough to have magic powers. Footage of her scary, awkward, herky-jerky dancing -- imagine trying to seduce the Mask, what that would look like -- as she explains that she has, quote, a "rrrrrow spicy personality." It is... spicy. I will give her that. "I'm going to deliver the Hotness, and it's going to go good," she says. I wish she would deliver some freakin' grammar as well; it costs nothing.
Meet Jennifer Chapton (23, Seattle WA). She's not as bad as other people from the past about whom I'm still having nightmares, but she's an affront regardless. Paula tells her to take her gum out, and Simon says to stick it on Taylor's face on the backdrop. HA! Randy's like, "Oh, Simon." She sings some song which sounds like "Tenderoni Need Your Love," and I don't care enough to parse out which part of that is the band and which is the song title, because it doesn't sound like any song at all. The only "Tenderoni" I know is its own song, and if that's what she's trying to sing, we're in bigger trouble than I think. Her overall issue, besides being tone-deaf, is this weird squeaking sex noise she keeps making at the end of every phrase that sounds like she has a deflated lung. It's really upsetting. Even if you look away because if what it's like looking at her, you have to look when she makes the noise, just to make sure you're not missing something really amazing like a person getting Faces of Death'd right on the TV. There are some okay parts, all right, but they're all Savol Fakeouts, because there's a really horrible, tinny, reedy tone to it all over. Paula dances around and sings along silently like your mom at a Journey concert. The post-singing part is pretty formulaic: she gets all Maury on them about how they don't know what they're talking about, and as usual she focuses on Simon for the venting of spleen, which...all three of them know what they're talking about, but Simon is always right, and in addition does not sugarcoat it, and I don't get why they go after him. You go after Paula, if anything, because she would fold. Simon won't fold. (Can you imagine if a contestant talked the shit to Paula that they talk to Simon? That would be so awful!) Paula does her whole "I love how you're being an asshole" thing, which as usual is stupid and unoriginal, and they go around and around and Simon is just gorgeously dismissive of her and her five miles of bullshit, and Randy reminds her that he also thinks it was bad. Which is also, of course, just his opinion.
Paula makes it clear that she only likes the Hotness's horrible personality, and definitely not the singing. I like anything that reinforces the idea that only trash talks back to Simon, because I think this whole show would be a lot more respectable if it didn't play off the anti-authority stuff with Simon, who is ultimately the final word and is always right. Whatever. If we'd listened to him about Clay, think how much trouble we could have avoided. Or effin' Taylor Hicks. She starts singing some other, even scarier song about how she's going to die if you don't... who cares. Paula's adorable but repetitive, Simon's awesome, begging her to stop a million times before offering that her best option might be going down to get a job "at the port." Either this is totally hilarious, or my affection for Simon is clouding my judgment, but man did I laugh. She tells him to get a lobotomy in return, which is somehow also funny, but there's just so much more of this show to go. He makes this funny new face he's debuting this season, called the Sad Clown, which is very cute, and lies that he would have said yes if the others weren't so against her, and then outside she says, awesomely, that probably he only likes "back-country Englishman sheep stuff," so she doesn't really care what he says. Heh. She explains that she was "just too hot for 'em," and then outside the building there's a very fake scene of her commiserating with Brandon G., who is many things, but I doubt his judgment is so very poor that he would engage in a conversation with this... creature.
By 11 AM, Simon has said "no" to approximately a billion people, including a cute dude who apparently was told he sings "like a Shakepearean actor," and a little high school guy who yells at Simon that he is "ridiculous."
up is Amy Salgado (23, Seattle), who for some reason I find a lot more offensive than I really should. It has to do with this weird obsession and personality and ego that she gets from being a mother, how her six year old son Armando is like her only friend in life. She's like the kind that if you asked her a question about anything at all, she'd relate it back to her kid, because that's her entire personality. That, and hating her husband with a poisonous hatred for simply being of the correct belief that she cannot sing. But Armando thinks she can, and blahblah emotional incest scary stuff and she cannot get herself off the topic of this kid, and like you wonder -- you've met these people, you know who I'm talking about -- if she ever hears herself talking and wonders silently, "Am I ever going to shut up about my damn kid?" I just want to know which of the ways he's going to deal with her unhealthy attachment to him and her motherhood role: are they going to find her, like "A Rose For Emily," or is he going to get married to a woman with the same name as her and be unhappy, or is he going to live at Oilcan Harry's? These are the choices. Good luck having a personality of your own, Armando. She talks at length about her son's professional opinion that she's a great singer, and how he has eradicated wire hangers from their apartment and whatever, and makes herself cry like six different times talking about what a creepy, greedy, grasping mom she is, and finally shuts up and goes in to see the judges, and manages to shut up for five seconds about her kid, which is just long enough to sing a shitty, shitty rendition of Xtina's "Reflection," a song I hate anyway. Think about this: while Xtina is wonderful in every way, and I do adore her professionally and at this point personally, she's still the Juliana Hatfield for the generation. (In turn the Janis Ian, if you're making a timeline). Songs about how ugly you are, but really you're pretty, but secretly you know you're ugly, but you need somebody to tell you you're beautiful, but if they did could you really believe it, but you still hope somebody tries, even though you don't need anybody's evaluation, except for how... I don't know. Secret cutting and a Janeane Garofalo kind of self-hatred that thinks it's anything but. Like nobody knows if they're the good kind of Tori Amos fan or the bad kind until Judgment Day. Amy is the bad kind of whatever scale you're looking at right this second. She tells them again and again that her horrible singing is due to dryness of the throat, and whatever whatever, Simon makes fun of her, she's awful, a repellent person in many ways who cannot sing. Good luck to Mr. Salgado, not that he deserves it. Good luck to Armando, who is going to be one of those Tori Amos fans before you know it.
Tanorexic freak singing horrible, another or the same Concealed Russian Lady from last year, this cute screaming dude singing "Die, Die My Darling," and then a freckled Howdy Doody singing through his nose.
Then comes Darwin Reedy (27, Houston). You know that I am morally opposed to the circus aspects of these early episodes; I bitch and moan. But you can count on at least one Adam Pratt or Goddamn Rhona Whatever -- and tonight, this person is Darwin Reedy. Because the girl is wildly insane. She looks like a John Waters cocktail-napkin doodle brought to horrifying life. Wiglike blonde poodle-hair, strange glasses, lipstick nowhere near the optimum location, wicked scary teeth, boobs at her waist, scary shapeless shiny gold shirt, awful identical mom with long black hair, both of them in really unattractive bangs, both of them talking like scary robots, both of them looking like Lynda Barry cartoons that even she would be like, "Too freaky." ["Someone on the boards said Darwin and her mom seemed like improv actors, and that was my first impression as well. I have to believe that was the case. The alternative is too frightening." -- Joe R] Darwin -- which is not her fault, that's her mom's fault, and honestly most or all of this is mom's fault, including whatever unfortunate genetic legacy is in play right now -- says "people call me Misha," and she means people on the internet when she says that, and they "call" her that because she told them to. I can't tell you exactly about the voice because this is words on paper, but it's like... who is it? The Pat kid from The Simpsons, with the scary robotic voice? She talks exactly like that, and so does her mom, and their boobs separately and together rank with that one Drew Barrymore moment that explained bras to everybody. She puts the big sticker with her number on it, at the welcome desk, on her shirt and for some reason it's like slathering some kind of lotion or nonstick cooking compound. Ryan asks her to explain her look, which is easy: Librarian who collects doll heads. The heads of dolls. She describes herself as "sexy," and explains to Ryan that sexy is "more of an attitude" than it is about not looking barfy and acting super weird: "It's not just your look that makes you sexy," you see, "it's confidence." And I'll say it again, but as much as I love Free To Be You And Me, sometimes more confidence is not the answer. Sometimes you need to accept that life is smacking you around for a reason. Ryan asks if she got her "confidence" (by which he means disturbing affect, pendulous breasts, inability to apply lipstick, freaky voice, and complete aversion to reality) from her mom, and mom signs off on the whole thing. "So you brought sexy once, and how she's bringing it back." They laugh and are scary some more, and thank him for making fun of them on TV.
In the audition room, Simon's jaw drops. She explains that she's a student and writer, and that "actually" she's written a "novella" about a singing competition, and there's "actually" a character based on Simon. She doesn't actually say that in this "novella" Simon Cowell is getting buttfucked by Jensen Ackles, but you and I both know damn well that's what's going on here. She talks about how much she and her mom love the show, and offers to sing "Don't Cha," by the PCD, and Ryan hangs out with mom outside, and then Randy is like, "They just told us your mom is even more of a trainwreck, can we bring her in?" For the first of many times tonight, Ryan gets smacked/interrupted by the door suddenly opening. It's cute every single time, because Ryan Seacrest rules. While she's getting her mom, Paula says, "Oh. My. God." to the camera. Which again is appropriate, because mainly: Oh My God. Simon tells mom that they should swap hair, so "Darwin" (I mean... ) would have the black hair with the bangs, and mom would have the fried blonde hair. I think they should, rather than trading looks, do a complete overhaul, but obviously they'll be looking identical and writing slash-fic together far into Grey Gardens territory, long after this show has been over for a very long time. Mom starts talking about the "novella" they wrote together, and whatever, they talk about how much they both love Simon and how when Darwin was a kid she loved "Straight Up" and danced around to it, and then she sings that PCD song. And later on in the broadcast, she'll complain that she's never performed the song before, but if that's true: why is her mom singing along? Awesome angle on mom singing silently: "Don't you wish your girlfriend was a freak like me... " which is about as good as this show gets, in this phase.
Darwin goes on to start into "Sweet Home Alabama," and even Neil Young is like, "You're doing this song a disservice." For Simon, he says, sitting right there, it was "appalling." Paula fully asks mom: "As a mother, can you stand listening to that?" Mom says in that same fucked up voice that she should have started with the second song, and Simon -- blown away by the mess of what has happened here, familially -- is actually pretty affectionate with them, as is Paula. Outside, they stand on either side of Ryan and babble, and he just stares into the camera and says, "Seattle. The Land of Confusion." We'll see how funny it is when they write a novella about Ryan going down on Adrian Pasdar. Paulie Walnuts? Frasier Crane. We'll see how funny it is then, Seacrest.
Montage of a guy saying he can get lessons, and Simon telling him not to waste his money, and then "Blame It On The Rain" starts playing. The Milli Vanilli album and "Forever Your Girl," I bought them on the same day, and they were the first cassette tapes I ever bought with my own money. So now you know a little bit about me. ["I'd laugh, but I owned 2 Legit 2 Quit. I have no foot to stand on." -- Joe R] Lots of them saying no to people we don't even hear sing... have we lost the plot entirely? Sad guy, crying girl. They don't even look different anymore. Just people, coming out of doors and going into doors, for a million years. Two hours, I mean. You know? I didn't get in, I didn't get in, I didn't get in. Forever and ever. Was it this formulaic and boring before? I don't remember. Guess that's your answer.
Tommy Daniels (21, Troutdale OR) is hot, with a huge afro and a great voice, and though Ryan voices over about how "cocky" he is, I don't at any point see that. He says that he is getting up to the top by elevator or by stairs, and that this stupid game show could be his elevator, or else he'll use the stairs. It's like the show is offended on its own behalf that he would even dare to suggest that it will do little for his career but get him exposure. I'm used to the show being just a tad more self-aware than that. He tells the judges that he slept on the street, behind trashcans so he wouldn't get sleep-mugged, and they all agree that this is a show of dedication. Tommy tried out two years ago in Vegas, and the year before that in LA, and Randy asks if he knows what "three times" is. A charm? Randy says that means it's over, but I don't know if those are the rules or what -- Paula is like, "If that were true, none of us would have a career," and Randy agrees, but she could be saying that independent of the show rules. You know what she's like. So he sings, and it is very awesome, and Paula glazes over entirely. Simon tells him he sang very well, Paula was soothed but also had goosebumps, Randy points out that he's the only non-sucky thing to happen so far in Seattle -- like, ever, I imagine -- and mentions his beautiful tone, and also his giant afro, the former three times and the latter one hundred and six times. Outside, Ryan has a moment with Tommy's Chihuahua, and then there are hugs, and then an extended party with the dog -- at one point Paula says it's what her baby with Simon would look like -- and if there's anything more irritating then a little yippy dog, it's the way people act around a little yippy dog, so bloop-bleep to the victim.
Melissa Stavros (22, Seattle), who has a really weird body which she has dressed in the most unwise possible fashion. She has a wrong head for her body, which is oddly proportioned anyway, and has dressed it in a Ross Dress For Less Sunday School dress with a pink body stocking underneath, so that she looks like a strange supervillain. The face on the wrong head is very cute, and she's a smart, funny, cool girl, well-spoken with weird friends, but she committed this outfit on herself. Nobody made her do that. She also has a little yippy dog but whatever, I like her. She tells us that she was planning on singing "Hit Me With Your Best Shot," but found out Simon, wisely, hates that song, so now, she admits, she has no idea what she's going to sing. She comes in guns blazing, very friendly and fun and confident, although she's an automatic no because of stuff having to do with neither her voice nor her personality, but she seems to basically get that, which makes her a lot more fun to watch. She sings the song about the man who liked big butts and cannot lie, dancing around, and Paula cheers when she describes her "big booty" as "fluffy," because Paula is still weird and patronizing about body image stuff, and who could blame her. The voice isn't terrible, and it's clear that the most egregious stuff has to do with her nervousness, which doesn't betray itself except through the voice, and immediately acknowledges that it was bad as soon as she's done. Even Simon calls her "Sweetheart," is how likeable she is. Outside, she explains to her similarly likeable and similarly quirky looking friends -- and Ryan, who sticks out like a sore thumb (actual size) in the middle of this panoply -- that she had "seizure hands" throughout, and thus sounded like a goat, and generally babbles the acceptable amount, and there is laughter and sweetness all around.
There's a cheesy unlicensed referential "Smells Like Teen Spirit" song over the montage, due to Seattle, which is all about hair. Why? Because Blake Lewis (25, Bothell WA), who is just about the most amazing thing I can remember seeing on this show ever, has amazing hair. It goes straight up, razor cut, brilliantly bleached, and has what they call prismatic shine in that commercial, and in which I never believed until tonight. Ultress, you have a point. You could get lost looking at that trippy beautiful hair, if the face below it weren't violently hot and even more distracting. But that's not all there is to Blake, no. He also loves Guy Sigsworth even more than I do, and is the local Beatboxing Champion, and is awesome and friendly and has the sweetest dad in the whole universe. He explains to the judges that his act around town is looping vocals, and singing over his own beats, and he demonstrates his beatboxing, tossing out like six different stylistic references from electronica over the last ten years while doing these smooth R&B grooves, and I mean. This is not why I come to this show American Idol. It's weird because A) you're supposed to do those things with a machine, not a voice, but also B) I would listen to this person on purpose. Which is so wrong and makes me feel funny about this show. One thing I would never do is listen to any of these people on purpose. Except that one song Daughtry sang that was like wrestling. I still listen to that one. Which is wrong in many other additional ways. He sings Seal's "Crazy," and it's lovely, and there are breakbeats in his actual song, and the whole vibe is very Road To Stardom, a show I truly loved. It goes on for a while, and is just a tad sincere, but if you ignore the singing, you can still watch. Simon tells Blake he's good, but very over the top, and wonders if Blake is as good as he thinks he is. Which is very sneaky, because that's actually a total compliment, because he would only say that if he respected you enough to know that you would both understand what he meant and take it in stride. So I'm glad to see Simon onboard. Blake dumbly suggests that his amazingness has only been clouded by the fact of living in Seattle and not LA, and all three judges laugh at him for suggesting that nobody in Seattle has ever been discovered. I see both sides of that, but frankly this kid should be in LA anyway. Randy says that the beatboxing was better than the singing, but that he liked the singing and thinks maybe it wasn't the best possible song. Paula gapes and yammers and Simon says she's easily pleased, but admits that he's good enough to get through to Hollywood. Outside, his father is adorable and sweet, crying and proud of his son, and it's pretty touching. Ryan loves it. It's like the only time he smiles the whole Seattle trip. Me too.
Contestants we'll never see: Scary Girl who sounds like she's Barfing, several times; Hopping Man, and lots of a Michael Bustamante, singing Michael Jackson passably but weirdly, and again Paula saying Oh My God and Wow. Then, the tragic David Mills (21, Ottowa KS), who I don't even really have much to say about. He's a goob, bad skin and hair, strange clothes, squeaking pubescent voice, tooth gap and not the good kind. He's like if Jon Peter Lewis got into a matter-transmission machine and unbeknownst to him there was also Timmy Kirk and their DNA was hopelessly and terrifyingly mixed and muddled up by science. He sings "Lean On Me," horribly, and at the end Simon explains to him how this Seattle audition is one of the worst they've ever had, and that of the Day One nightmares, he is the worst. There's a short montage of people not buying their critiques, and then back to David: "It's been a major wakeup call for me." Sometimes it's good when a dream dies.
The Malakars, two adorable Indian kids (Lacey and/or Federal Way WA), tell Ryan they've never met before, but of course they're siblings. Their dad is a classical Indian musician: "He started us as singers," the girl says, "... and gave us our voices," her little brother finishes. They laugh about how they're auditioning separately but that each is better than the other, and she shoves him -- after inquiring of a producer whether she's supposed to shove him. This is made-up drama at this point: sibling rivalry, talk about that. They're pretty game. The girl is up first, and Paula mangles her name, Shyamali Malakar (19), but the girl is super confident and gets to her song, "Summertime," with a quickness. She's beautiful. Her voice is a little young and clearly nervous, but good, and by the end she's doing great. Paula tells her that she's "better than she thinks," and advises that she work on confidence, and also that she's "very subtle but great," with "good energy." I knew all it would take is noticing the existence of one female contestant and Paula would be totally sweet. Simon complains that Shyamali's "nothing original," and Randy clarifies that she's got some work to do to find out who exactly she is. She offers to sing more for them, and Paula reminds her that she just got two qualified yeses and should hush. Simon pronounces her "meh" but goes along with "Squiggly" and "Wiggly," and Randy and Paula tell her to work on her repertoire, her showmanship and her dynamics, which Simon laughs about: "Change everything, yeah?"
Outside, Ryan's talking to the brother, Sanjaya (17), a floppy haired hipster child, and trying to play the rivalry card, all, "Your mom says you're the better singer," and then when he almost gets smacked by the door again, telling Shyamali ("I don't wanna create an awkward moment here," he lies) the same thing. They ignore him and hug, and Sanjaya goes in. He's very soft-seeming and small and you worry. Randy asks if he's better than his sister, and he replies sweetly that he doesn't think so. At least he's being honest, they agree. Paula takes one look at his giant grin and bouncy ways and pronounces him the wrongly accused shy one. He gets into his song, Stevie Wonder, with a quickness, and sounds great. Simon listens quietly before pronouncing him a better singer than his sister. He is, but she's cuter, so it's okay. Simon says that she has the stage presence, but he has a better voice. They yell and clap and scream.
Outside, Shyamali is listening and worried, since they loved her but didn't cheer for her, and he comes out cheering just as Ryan's asking if she's bitter about the applause. I swear to God the lack of sun is turning him into a dick this week, starting shit way more obviously than usual. You can't usually see the seams quite this easily. This time it turns out super ugly, also: Ryan asks Sanjaya who the judges liked more, and he awkwardly smiles and says he's not answering the question. Closeup on Shyamali wigging out and sad, and then the two of them being adorable in the interview booth. I'm sure they'll find some way to make this gross, on down the road. I am pulling for them both.
"Thought it couldn't get worse?" Ryan says. Fabulous. Meet Nick Zitzmann (27), who's from Midvale UT, which is "near the Salt Lake City area... let me try that again, because it is not near the Salt Lake City area, it is in the Salt Lake City area." I love this kid, I really do. Like you want to protect him and beat up some people for him. Weird software engineer crazy nerd with glassy eyes and a very inappropriate affect with strange clearing of throat and closing of eyes and long blinks and shaking and a generally overwhelmed air. If he weren't from Utah, I would say this is one of those medical issues we get pissed about, but you cross Utah with home-schooling, how bad medically does it need to be to be like this? I cannot say. I am thumbs up on Nicholas, though. He explains that he's mostly self-taught, and that he's singing "Unchained Melody" because it goes "from heeere [high and scary] down to heeeere [low and scary], and a bunch of notes in between. And I can hit all those notes." He dances crazily without blinking in the interview booth, and then he's telling Ryan how his coworkers encouraged him to try out, even though they've never heard him sing a note. Which is how you know you're the Charlie Gordon and ought to stay at home. Ryan wishes him luck but is weirded out in a dickish and silent fashion. Inside, he stands in this really weird Scarecrow-like half-akimbo with one hand on his hip like he's in Li'l Abner or something, and tells them he's "anxious, but doing well." That's not going to last.
Paula asks what makes him special and he says that he is a leader who projects well and stays on key, mentioning his "leader voice" status in choirs of old. Simon asks what else makes him unique, and he kind of wigs out for a second, closing his eyes. "I'm a lot different from a lot of other people," he explains. This being self-evident, Randy asks if he maybe means his voice, and not his total screwball weirdness; he agrees that this is "reasonable" to say. Paula reminds us that "Unchained Melody" is Simon's favorite song, and he nods. "That's what I've been told." What is it like to stay in your house all day? He sings in a way which is both creepy and aggressive, while being completely internal and heart-tenderizing. It goes on way too long; he sways back and forth until Randy and Paula follow along, but he doesn't notice, because he's in Crazytown. My friend Matt saw the lead singer of Crazytown at Sanrio. He goes, "You know who I saw at Sanrio?" I said Gwen Stefani, because obviously, and he shook his head and said "Crazytown" and I said, "How could you tell?" He said it's so totally obvious, and I asked if he still looks like that, and my friend Matt said, "Less shiny." That was like the best conversation I've had all week, but a lot of that has to do with Matt being awesome and less to do with the... well, I've wandered. I don't like these things they do on this show. Sorry.
It's pretty boring, his eyes are giant and weird, he's really trying hard, obviously, and I mean there are not enough props for how deeply warm I feel toward the guy, but I mean. He hits the high high part, looking wildly, bug-eatingly crazy as he does, and finally Randy just starts laughing, and things go south some more, and he sings like the entire song. And such is the frenzy and emotional confusion and eye-bugging weirdness of it all that it's like, "Unchained Melody" is supposedly a love song, like a love ballad for getting in people's knickers. But if Nick Cave, say, or Xiu Xiu covered this song, you know how it would be scary and like a song about drowning your pregnant wife in the river somehow? Or like how all women wear red dresses and suck out a man's life and tell me about the rabbits and this type of thing, is how this is, and not on purpose. You feel kind of PJ Harvey'd by the song, and I didn't think that was possible with this song. I've felt Crate & Barrel'd and Pier One'd and occasionally chamomiled by the song, but never this. It's gothic, what this kid is doing to this song.
Finally Simon stops this song of death and revenge and pottery wheels of heaven and -- with the hand back on his hip, staring and blinking weirdly -- Simon says this: "Thank you, Nicholas. What the bloody hell was that?" Closeup on Nick, who is awesome: "It was me. Was that not good enough?" He blinks like he's about to boot, and Randy's like, "Not even close." Simon admits that it's one of the worst auditions he's ever heard: "Almost... nonhuman." I cannot disagree. Nick blinks and shuts his eyes bizarrely the whole time like he's having to tell the voices to shut up. You know how sometimes the blinking is to keep the tears in? This is like that but with something else instead of tears. Keeping the crazy in. Or like lasers. Randy hits him with the fullness of truth: the tunelessness, the weird tone, the ways in which it was simply "not pleasant," and notes that these things represent the opposite of what we talk about when we talk about singing. They sweetly wish him luck and once he's gone, they stare forever. Simon is quiet and adorable, Randy's amazed by his strangeness, and outside Ryan asks if he'll ever sing again. He says perhaps, but he'll have to see the tape first. They stand silently, weirdly not looking at each other or anything. Now come on. If you cannot count on Ryan to hold your hand and say sweet things and touch you all over like a concerned equestrian, I have to ask what's the point of auditioning. I mean it. Ryan, do your job. They stare some more. "That's pretty much all I have to say about that," Nick says after awhile, and Ryan finally ducks an eye at the camera. Then they go look for Nick's sweatshirt together. In the hallway, he reiterates how he hit the "hiiiiigh parts and the looooow" in a still-more bizarre singsong, and then admits that he could very possibly scare himself when he finally reviews the tape, then makes six bizarre faces in a row, and the image goes still on the most weird one, because this show is nothing if not classy and unwilling to beat the horse all the time.
At the end of Day One, after a bunch of horrible singing, Ryan hooks up with Rudolfo Cardenas (28, North Hollywood) and I think they make out a little. Originally from Venezeula, Rudy's either a real musician or keeping his personality very close to the vest. He's in a band so it could be either. He sings "Open Arms," which is by Journey, who I saw in concert last summer and they were fucking awesome, and in which Randy once played bass, while wearing purple spandex, and he sings this song very well, and the judges applaud madly, and Ryan thanks him for not sucking at singing, and Rudy remarks that "Simon's over it, he's had a bad day," so then we hear the "Bad Day" song and a bunch of losers, and "Die Die My Darling" guy yells, "Simon, you're mine!" at the camera, and it's awesome, and a total of seven people made it through out of 9000 people, and there's still one day to go but it's even more boring, so let's do that now.
Swinger music greets the sunshine on Day Two, and there is still screaming and Paula's yelling OMG at the camera about how bad the first day was, and a bunch of hotties getting all upset and camera-talking about how Simon talked shit about how untalented Seattle is ("He did produce a Teletubbies album," one of them quips). And then there's Fake Dirk and Fake Adam, who met in line and are friends and Ctrl-V last time only stupider and lamer and meaner and they are not as cool. Well, the Dirk one is cooler than Dirk, but the other one takes the amount of Adam Pratt cool that nobody will ever manage to live up to, and breaks the curve altogether by acting like an idiot. They mumble and snort and short bus around about how they're going to prove Simon so wrong, and it doesn't make any sense, and it goes on forever, and they're both fucking impaired, and it's obnoxious and stupid and obvious and... I'm not saying AI is better than this, that would be dumb, but does this sense of disappointment and nastiness ever go away? It's an unpleasant surprise every time. At least the judges have the sense to come off as appalled about it, which is good.
Kenneth Briggs (23, Bothell WA) comes in throwing signs and bonding with Randy. He has the bugged-out eyes and is also small and kind of swarthy somehow, but mostly he looks angry and like he's been crapped on a whole lot in life, which he really has been. There are medical issues at play, so we're going to bleep-bloop most of it, but basically he sounds like every male pop star from the last twenty years and dances a bomb. Neither of these things are true, and he sings "Tearing Up My Heart" and dances around like he learned it by watching people play Dance Dance Revolution. Randy can't talk for laughing, and Paula says he's adorable, and I guess he is, like a wolverine is adorable, and he starts that usual tiresome shit with Simon about how it's just his opinion, and I've decided I'm not recapping that conversation anymore, because it's boring and trashy and stupid and doesn't matter. "First of all, you are aware this is a singing competition? Why do you think you can win? You look a little odd, your dancing is terrible, the singing is horrendous, you look like one of those creatures in the jungle with the massive eyes. ... A bush baby?" All true, all what he needed to hear for even showing up here. Paula calls him a sick man for that, more of the "that's your opinion" talk, he finally fucking leaves as Paula's telling him how great he is but not here, and Randy asks what the hell Simon is thinking calling people "bush babies," laughing all the while, and Paula can't even breathe she's so tickled, and it was pretty awesome, and meanwhile outside Kenneth bitches at Ryan that he was called a monkey. Kenneth, you're 23. Come on.
Kenneth and his buddy Fake Dirk do a massively toolish dap/handshake/spaz-out as Kenneth gives him dumb advice about being yourself, and then Jonathan Jayne (20, Renton WA) goes lumbering in with his remedial self and giving Paula quite a start. He tells them he has an amazing personality and that he is interesting and different. I'm sure all of those are true, but I don't really understand what it has to do with the show, or why we're watching it now. He sings "God Bless America" in a very effed-up vibrato that sounds like he's singing in a gyroscope on a freight train, and then the weird haunted high notes, and finally he stops. Outside, Kenneth is like, "This sounds so awesome. He's doing great." Inside, it's not funny and it goes on forever, whatever. Simon's over it: "Beautiful." For once, I appreciate Paula's brand of bull, as she praises his spirit and great personality but notes that he's not really right for the competition itself. I like this new phrase she's acquired, and it's clear that it's making life easier for her as well. She says she appreciated his audition very much, and Simon is also very sweet with him, even telling him quietly to go out the right-hand door so he won't be embarrassed. Paula tells him finally to always believe in himself, and then Ryan makes nice with the boys, telling Jonathan specifically that he's sorry he didn't get his shot, and that he enjoyed meeting him. The total niceness of the host and judges almost redeems the bullshittiness of this happening in the first place, but we wouldn't all have to be sharing this common bonding moment of shame if the producers weren't dickholes in the first place.
Speaking of which, meet Eric Chapman (28-ish, Renton WA), who creates a conundrum that I'm used to seeing only on The Apprentice, namely, his delusion and personal ickiness are both at such high levels that you end up not knowing who to be angry at. He shouldn't be on TV for the same reason that I hate the Playboy mansion, which is that it's not cool to watch people playing out their mental illness for the cameras, but he himself is so aggressively off-putting, and in such an ill-defined way, that it's... you know in a horror movie there's the one guy who's just a dick and keeps yelling at all the survivors and being a jerk to everybody and trying to make plans but they're wrong and he's just nasty? And you think, "It is going to be bad ass when they get him." That's what this is like, only between here and there, he's going to sing a song. And he looks (kinda) and acts (almost) exactly like Taylor Hicks. Only where Taylor could be a very good-looking guy if he would cut it the fuck out, Eric is just weird-looking for good. He's got the Seth Cohen mushy mouth issue, which works like one in five times anyway, and his eyes are creepy and his hair is gray and whatever, he's of diminished capacity, and now he's on TV.
Ryan voices over the comparison to "Taylor Hicks... hit in the face with a shovel," which is neither creative nor true in any way. I think he looks like an asshole with a serious lack of clue. Which is not entirely creative but is factually true. They indulge his weird, stupid self for way too long, even going to the salon where he works so that the ladies there can scream and pretend that he's not embroiled in a brain-dead mentally ill bisexual hell of his own devising, and letting him talk crazily about the Taylor thing for awhile, and his stupid fruit-punch mouth going on and on about work: "I get into a trance where I start seeing the whole form of the hair coming," he says. He gives the lady a good haircut, that's true. I would not let him near me because he's a weirdo, but if he took his meds I might let him give me a haircut. He does a Hicks impression, which is just the paprika on the awful egg salad of this picnic, and explains the final word on Hicks: "If I portray him it's just me," he says. Speech impediments and mile-a-minute Zippy the Pinhead talking turn Simon off the second he comes wandering in, screaming nonsense, and Simon looks at the camera like, "Jacob, I know. And I am sorry." Finally, it's over and Simon asks him to swear on the life of his mother that this is not a joke or some kind of performance art, and Eric responds wiltingly that nobody could pretend to be this crazy, and that Paula is beautiful and then tries to style Simon's hair, and gets tossed out by security on his ass, which Ryan finds beautiful and hilarious because Ryan's in an even worse mood today than he was yesterday, and Eric fixes his own hair and continues to babble crazily, and inside, Paula notes soberly that there are some troubled people here in Seattle.
There's a montage of jokes about how short Ryan is, which I do not appreciate in the slightest, although it's kind of funny to see all the ways he deals with it. One guys notes that he's kinda short, and without even thinking Ryan spits, "You're charming." That kind of thing. There's another moment where he's talking to a tall kid and calls for his apple box, and the kid is hilarious, like "You really have a box that you stand on?" And Ryan grins: "No. Come on." ["Oh, you come on, Seacrest. That box has your name engraved on it." -- Joe R] This is all to introduce Anna Kearns, the tallest girl in the world. 6'4" flat-footed, she says, and 6'7" in the heels she's wearing today. She says it used to freak her out too, but now she has figured out how to use that attention for her own purposes, and I admire that so much and I wish she would explain this very simple thing to some people, because she's clearly over it and probably can't even remember a time when it bothered her. She tells Ryan she's here to prove that very exceedingly freakishly tall people -- "Like us!" -- can win in life. She looms down to hug little Ryan, and they're both so damn cute.
Coming into the room, she's so very confident and beautiful and mind-blowingly gigantic. They stare. Anna Kearns (20, Wichita Falls TX), who was in the Air Force originally but whose weak heart got noticed a week before graduation, which sucks so bad! Kearns, I love you! I hope she wins. She sings "Respect" very awesomely while dancing in a very tall and amazing way, Simon whispering that she's the tallest girl he ever did see. Afterwards, he notes the total loudness of her singing, and Randy agrees -- she smiles: "I got excited" -- and Simon says she's interesting, if old-fashioned and over the top. Randy and Paula, stupidly, start growling at Simon and don't stop. Anna and Simon stare at them as the growling continues. Simon, pissed now, asks if they're done, and they're like, "What, dude?" and keep growling, so he opts out of the entire audition and pretends to take a nap. Which I get where he's coming from, but it's obvious that this means he doesn't have to give an opinion, because she's obviously a yes from the other two, so everybody wins and she's going to Hollywood. She is very happy -- and Ryan almost giggles -- while inside Simon notes that they're sending a giraffe to Hollywood. Paula laughs about how awesome Hollywood is going to be, with her towering over everybody like a movie about a giant girl that sings Motown and will smash you. Outside, Anna dances around and cracks jokes with Ryan. I want her to put him on her shoulder and go down to the corner for Slurpees. Not because that interests me personally, but I think it would delight Ryan Seacrest, who really needs some cheering up this week.
Losers losers losers crying at the camera about how talented they are, and then this year's Lisa Tucker: Jordin Sparks (16, Glendale AZ), all professional smiles and Dakota Fanning manners. They're blown away by her absolutely magnetic, mesmerizing presence, and everybody talks crazy for awhile until she offers to sing her song for them, which is "Because You Loved Me," a song Simon loves. Of course he does. She's so beautiful, with tons of hair and a lovely speaking and singing voice, confident enough to get tricksy without being irritating. The whole time she's singing, Randy and Simon whisper about how she's the best they've seen in Seattle, and Paula just loves her. "You're beautiful. I loved you. Love your voice." Randy says he was blown away by her voice, and they bring up that her dad is Phillippi Sparks, who played "corner" opposite Jason Sehorn in the NFL. I don't know what those words mean, and Simon makes a very funny and elegant joke about "Right, right, yeah. Of course. Phillippi Sparks, my hero. Love that guy." The other two crack on him, and Jordin stares at them, and a little bit of her age adorably peeks out when Randy jokes that Simon "knows a lot about cricket," and Jordin's grin drops to the floor like she thinks he just said something really insulting without knowing it. It's really cute and touching, how she gets concerned right away, instead of just playing along with the five layers of meta-joke that just happened. So sweet. Simon gives his opinion last, which is that he likes sugar in his coffee, but also moderation in everything, and that she was too sugary sweet. The others bitch and moan, but they are on the same page: "I like you. This is constructive advice," he says, and she somehow figures out a way to say, "I know that, duh. Shut your cronies up because they're yelling for no reason." Randy calls her a natural and perfect, Paula loved it; Simon tempers all this ass-kissing with a bunch of "it was great but not perfect" over-praise stuff, jokes that it's a No from Paula but a Yes from him, and then outside she jumps about adorably. Ryan voices over that her voice stood out by a mile, and that again, only seven people made it through. Who were they? Don't know.
A Carrie Underwood-looking girl, a short girl, a skinny black girl, a hot blonde dude, a horsey blonde girl skipping around with a grinning black guy, and giant Anna. Wasn't this fun? There's a montage of losers singing the PCD song, and while I admit I normally enjoy the same-song montages because they're all in the same awful boat and it doesn't seem so mean somehow, and this includes Nick and David, this guy yelling "Not cool!" at Simon, a big guy not being funny and dancing like a fool, Darwin forgetting the words at some point, the Concealed Russian Lady being scary, the Taylor guy being all sex offender vibe guy some more, a Concealed Russian Fellow forgetting the words, Nick, more and more and more. LOOK. This is NOT A SONG. This is a Shania Twain song skeleton, gimmicky and stupid and picked clean of any melody and creativity. It is created to sell the disgusting PCD concept to little girls the same way this show is created to sell itself. It's not even a goddamned song. The growly barfing girl, like a hundred times, and Anastasia Krupnik, Nick looking insane, David being weird, Kenneth and JJ being weird, more Anastasia, more Barf Girl. Not even this is funny this year. What are we, collectively, doing?
Watching an actually mentally retarded man make a total ass of himself. Why, we've already named the winners, so obviously there's time for some filler, even though we still don't know who the people are. Meet Stephen Thoen (27, Who Cares), the mentally compromised person they call Big Red, who has the strength of an ape and a brutish brow and stupid red hair and stories like this: "When people wanna get my attention, they say, 'Hey Red.' People ask why they call me Red, I say 'I wonder why'?" I don't want to get into the amateur diagnosis game again this year, so I will use I statements. I have had many conversations with MHMR inpatients in my life, because I grew up feeling very guilty about the things that came easy to me, and I welcome opportunities to deal with things I don't want to deal with. And in these conversations that I have personally had, this would not be an atypical turn for the conversation to take. It is representative, in fact, of scores of conversations I have personally had in similar situations to what I have described above. "When people wanna get my attention, they say, 'Hey Red.' People ask why they call me Red, I say 'I wonder why'?" Now, whatever the details are here, I don't really care, because in addition to him having whatever issue it is that he is living and dealing with every day, for which I have the greatest sympathy, the fact is that he's also a pretty obviously unpleasant person, and I would not want to hang out with him no matter what. What does he like to do? Go to "karoke." He talks into the camera about how inspires him from past seasons: Nobody, because he's barely ever seen the show, because he hates the show. The people in the room start laughing and he gives everybody including you and me the scary "strength of an ape" eyes, and whatever. Ryan hates him even more than he hates everybody this episode, and refuses to go paddling around in the pool with him at all. He says there aren't that many redheads on TV in "this day and age," and Ryan's like, "True." Just totally checked out. "I look like Carrot Top, but you know something? Everybody says I'm way cooler than him." Again: I have had this conversation in my own personal life and it was with a mentally disabled person each time. This show is an asshole for a list of reasons.
Paula rolls her eyes when his crazy ass rolls up, and they talk about how he doesn't watch the show, usually because he's "busy," and I just keep thinking Simon better be fucking slick or he could end up on the end of this giant freak's fist so fast. I bet this guy can move lightning quick when he is enraged. He tells them he can sing like Freddie Mercury. Now, even if that weren't patently untrue, it would still be untrue, because guys that are that huge, unless something really dire is going on inside their bodies or they are from the House Harkonnen, cannot sing like Freddie Mercury. An actual pitbull attached to the scrotum could not produce those sounds from this man. So again: deluded, stupid, timewasting bullshit. He sings what feels like the entirety of "Bohemian Rhapsody" to them, and Paula's over it before it starts. He pronounces words weird, like Ren Faire weird, and there's squealing and moaning and grunting and breathing. And that's true of the song, I realize that, but this is like putting a little spit-shine on that. One jutting tooth. It goes on for ten minutes, the horrible noises. I wish this was a Tom Green joke but it's not: the guy is retarded. He tells them finally that he can also sing country, and Paula snorts: "That's probably your best genre, right?" I will be honest with you that I'm not entirely sure why that joke is funny, or how it was intended to be funny, but it did crack me up pretty much completely. Simon's at a loss: "I think that was the weirdest... " He can't find the words. It was like... "A one-year-old, singing that song." They all laugh about that, and Randy calls it harsh, and Simon's honestly flummoxed, but no, that's what it was like! It was weird! And Red starts screaming about the opinion thing, and how in high school he sang well and how he needs practice or whatever. Coaching. Simon tells him that may well be true. I think he needs a social worker first. Finally, the point so lost he'll never find it again, he tries to rhetorically win the argument by demanding that Simon, since he knows so much, should be his vocal coach. I don't get how that's a win, but whatever. I don't get into arguments with retarded giants for a reason: I don't like getting beat up. His anger goes to the scary place and he somewhat chills out -- I'm sure with security just off-camera -- and this is his final statement: "Hey, the way I see it, don't be about it, or, hey, don't sing about it, be about it, all right. Don't sing it, just bring it, all right?" See above re: I have had this conversation. Simon's like, "This is ridiculous." I agree. Red runs off all weird and angry and scary -- Simon goes, "And once again it's my fault?" -- and gets the apelike attitude with Ryan, all, "What am I supposed to do now? More interviews? Where am I supposed to be, huh?" And Ryan straight up tells him to do whatever the fuck he wants, and brings that vibe right back around, felling the giant with one manicured eyebrow. It's gorgeous. Red runs off and my hero Ryan shrugs at the camera and spits, "What's left to do? Nothing. Seattle. Done."