The Great Seacrest Snit Fit Of '07

S06E10

The top 12 guys are, save a few, either underwhelming or boring. Simon Cowell is, as usual, completely right about all of them. And Ryan Seacrest is, as usual, a whiny instigating pipsqueak about it.

Rudy figures there's no better way to scream "I'm the American Idol" than by singing some Edgar Winter and failing to pronounce his consonants. We'll see how far that gets him. Brandon does very well on some Michael Jackson, but the judges think he's got a much better performance in him. Sundance continues to take the express train to suck-town, singing "Knights in White Satin" without a single note in tune. Paul Kim still feels pretty good about his nasty smelly feet being on display, though Simon does his best to knock him down a peg, God bless 'im. He sings George Michael's "Careless Whisper" and was good enough not to get eliminated. This week. Chris Richardson sings Gavin DeGraw (third year in a row!) from the very heights of his nasal, though he did kind of pull it together by the end there. Not to mention the wicked hot thing, the JT "My Love" wardrobe thing, the screaming throngs of girls thing -- Simon and I think he'll be fine.

Nick Pedro is horribly boring singing a Richard Marx song. Which is...really redundant of me, sorry! Blake (!) sets the beatboxing aside for the time being (Simon approves, but Randy misses it) and sings that lovely Keane song. It's not perfect, but it's pretty to listen to and a nice change of pace from the song selection so far. Sanjaya brings us our only Stevie Wonder of the night, though you may not remember it because it was so utterly unimpressive. The judges all come down on him for it, though Simon's remarks cut the deepest. Seacrest all but tells Sanjaya to "stand up for yourself, Poindexter!" It's an ugly scene. Speaking of which! Chris Sligh rocks out on some song nobody on Earth has ever heard before, particularly Simon, which of course is why he criticizes it. Here's where Ryan really flips his lid, though, as he goads Chris into some backtalk, which references Il Divo and Teletubbies and actually seems to throw Simon off for a few moments. Which is scary as hell, in a "the pilot's dead, who can fly this plane?!" way. Not good times for anyone involved.

Jared isn't as slimy as I once thought, and A.J. isn't as bad a singer as I once thought (the Porcelain Veneers of Fear notwithstanding), and they should both be safe. Finally, Phil the alien-headed heartthrob (don't ask, I can't explain it) sings Edwin McCain's "I Could Not Ask For More." He's terrible at the beginning but really comes through in the end. Randy thought he was the best of the night (untrue), but Simon says what actually happened, and when asked, Phil says he agreed with Simon. Which makes Randy for-real sad and drives Ryan crazy with anti-Simon rage and sends Phil into a mad dash to make sure everyone still loves him.

Tonight: Jacob and the ladies. Thursday: Rudy and...Nick (?) take their leave, unless Sundance crashes and burns for good.

Believe it or not, Ryan Seacrest is of the opinion that this has been "our biggest season ever" with the "best talent yet." I don't know about you, but I completely believe his unbiased opinion. Ryan is once again looking all put-together and presentable in his wee gray vest, which makes it doubly too bad that he'll be acting like such an instigating little shithead all night. After the credits, I'm reminded of just how much filler goes into these two-hour performance shows, especially at the beginning. It's almost as if there's no real reason this show ever needs to run two hours beyond the fact that FOX doesn't have another show that can pull in such tasty ratings for sweeps. You could honestly fast-forward the first fifteen minutes of the show and not miss anything. Anyway, Ryan slaps tres-butch fives with all the top 12 guys as he descends the giant metal staircase. He calls this year's auditions the "weirdest ever," like it was something that just unexpectedly happened to the show while it stepped out to buy some groceries. "You'll never believe it, but I was in the cereal aisle when I was accosted by three street performers, twenty-one unbalanced loners, and a bush baby!"

, Ryan introduces the guys, and they do that weird model walk past the cameras and into the RC Cola lounge. Rudy points directly at YOU, the voters at home. Brandon winks and makes the finger guns (oh, Brandon). Sundance nods his head because the rest of him is already occupied with getting ready to suck tonight. Paul does that military salute thing he did in the dancing montage video. Chris Richardson opens his arms wide and looks hot in his suit jacket and skinny tie and no upper lip. Nick Pedro pretends to box with us (oh no! Nick Pedro, don't punch me in the face!). Blake Lewis flashes hand signals and also tries to box with us. Maybe the hand signals were supposed to stand for "beat" and he was really just playing charades with us, trying to remind us he's the "beat" "boxer." Sanjaya gives the corniest double thumbs-up ever. Chris Sligh is unkempt and flashes only one hand's worth of the devil horns (he's unwholesome! watch out!). Jared throws a double finger-point but thankfully refrains from having sex with us with his eyes, which is a nice change of pace for him. A.J. opts for a floating-hands variation on the double thumbs-up. And finally Phil, whose hands are also all over the place as they give the thumbs-up. A.J. just did that, Phil, come on.

Ryan introduces the Girl Pound and then explains to us how semifinals works. Same this year as the last two. Two guys and two girls get voted out in each of the three weeks, leaving us with our top 12 finalists. Ryan introduces his "friends," the judges. Paula will be wearing Alaina Alexander's hair for the evening, by the way. Ryan brings up the fake controversy about the judges -- particularly Randy -- being tougher this year. Which, I've said before, I don't think is true. I think they were meaner last season at the very least. I do find that Randy's drifted more to Simon's way of thinking in the audition rounds, but that's just because he's a spineless weasel with not real opinions of his own. That's all. Ryan asks Paula...something...doesn't really matter what, you know? And you can see Simon go and pinch her under the table, as she has always alleged he's done, and she giggles and acts all weird, and Ryan's all, "Here we go..." but that's misleading, because she's actually pretty on the ball this week. Graded on the giant Paula curve, of course, but still. Ryan then sings the praises of all the past Idols who've done well just this week: Carrie won a Grammy, Jennifer Hudson's winning the Oscar. Ryan mentions "Daughtry" and "McPhee" as doing well on the charts, which is funny in two ways, one being that it completely ignores Taylor, which is awesome, and two, it makes me wonder if Katharine is now going by "McPhee" professionally, because that's what all the cool Season Five-ers are doing. Simon's so bored with all of this, he can't even be arsed to remember what Ryan's even talking about, so he just advises the Top 24 to "sing well," and let's get on with it already.

But rather than actually getting on with it, Ryan first introduces a giant clip package of "how the guys got here," which is completely unilluminating, and will be rehashed for each individual performer before his performance tonight anyway, so there's no point in recapping it now. And then he kicks it to commercial. Gosh, after all the buildup, I really hope the guys sing well tonight! What a horrible letdown it would be if they're all pretty crappy except for, oh, say, Brandon, Blake, Sligh, and half of Phil and Chris Richardson.

Back from commercial -- gettin' closer to actual singing! -- Ryan introduces us to heretofore only-kinda-seen Rudy Cardenas. Like when he auditioned with his giant leather jacket like he was there to collect a debt from Randy. Rudy's originally from Venezuela, grew up in Denver, and lives in L.A. We see that Simon voted "no" on his audition, and then in Hollywood, there's a clip of Rudy being pretty cool about it: "I don't know who I remind him of, maybe his tax guy or something? But I don't think he likes me that much." I think I like Rudy as a person but not as a singer. Case in point: he takes the Idol stage and for the first song of the night, he's singing Edgar Winter's "Free Ride." This is yet another song that reminds me solely of Dazed and Confused; what's up with that? I should mention, by the way, that there's a giant target on the front of Rudy's t-shirt, like he's just daring all of us. Don't look now, Rudy, but I think America may be more willing to take you up on that challenge than you thought. So aside from the fact that the song itself is a weird fit for this show, and not-in-a-good-way retro, the singing itself is really irritating. Rudy's either forgetting the words or else he just doesn't pronounce consonants when he sings. Neither option is a good one. It's just a whole lot of mush-mouthy sounds, and a whole lot of WOO-ing, and Rudy's face going all lipless and strange. I like that Rudy understands that the worst thing you can do this early in the competition is bore the judges. But it's also not a great idea to CopacaBobby your way on out in the first week, either.

When the judges get to him, it's not pretty. Randy tries to cushion the blow with a lot of caveats about how hard it is to be the first person to perform, but in the end he says it was "really corny, dude." I agree with that 100%. Paula does not. She says it was "fantastic" and remarks that no one has ever started off the season with this kind of an up-tempo and exciting performance. Even before the words are out of her mouth, Simon's telling her she's wrong, but really. It's Paula. She can't remember what she drank for breakfast this morning, much less the fact that just last season Mandisa kicked things off with -- wait for it -- an up-tempo and exciting performance. One that had the added benefit of being awesome. Simon defends his historic dislike of Rudy by saying that he does not have a distinctive voice -- this draws an actual gasp from Paula, which was funny -- nor anything that would make him stand out in a crowd. He says this particular performance didn't really have anything to recommend it "other than the fact that a few people here had a reasonably good time." I love the utter contempt Simon has for the studio audiences, because he more than anyone knows how much of an alternate universe of over-enthusiasm and Pavlovian response that place really is. Paula tries to re-assert the "fantastic" thing, but Randy's already agreeing with Simon. Ryan barely has the energy to try to make the save, though he does ask Rudy to respond to Simon, saying, "He's ten yards away from you," in a way that kind of sounds like he wants Rudy to go over there and punch Simon in the face. Which is, of course, exactly what he wants. Rudy says he just wants to be able to change Simon's opinion of him or something else that doesn't really mean anything.

Back from commercial, Ryan's in the RC Cola lounge with the guys, trying on his best hunched-over, elbows-on-knees, heterosexual pose. He asks Chris Sligh what the "buzz" is, and Chris -- who I still like, but who is absolutely guilty of the "over-rehearsed" charges being levied against him -- says the buzz is "all about the guys looking pretty." He points out Sanjaya as looking "pretty" -- Sanjaya smiles big but is kind of embarrassed -- as well as Brandon, who has a fantastic "You only get a few of those, Pugsley" look on his face. Ryan, in full-on hetero panic mode, says he's glad Chris is over there on the other couch. Keep on dancing that dance for America, Seacrest. I'm totally sure they appreciate it. And like any true straight dude, Ryan immediately turns his attention to the guy who looks like Justin Timberlake. He asks Chris Richardson about how this group of guys compares to years past. Chris thinks all these guys are "awesome," and gets a little defensive when Ryan asks if he's nervous. Brandon is asked something about his experience as a background singer for Xtina and...none of this matters, it's just empty pre-game talk about bringing your A game and whatnot. Ryan says, "Well, Christina's better to look at, but we'll watch you anyway." Oh, Ryan. "A" for effort, but "C-" for execution, because 1) gay dudes love Christina way more than straight dudes, and 2) we can all see that was just an elaborate ruse so you could rub Brandon's shoulders. I'm not begrudging you the latter, but come on. Who are we kidding?

Brandon's clip reel gives him plenty of opportunities to flash that dynamite smile of his and be generally quite likeable. On stage, he sings Michael Jackson's "Rock With You," a boilerplate song, yes, but one that he really sings well. I like the way Brandon always has his eyes on the camera, connecting with the audience at home, while at the same time not being too leering or eye-fucking about it. If there was one thing about Ace Young I really appreciated, it was how he was able to be constantly staring back at you from the TV and not venture into Constantine territory. Afterwards, Randy busts out the first "pitchy" of the season -- after taking a year's sabbatical, "pitchy" looks to be back with a vengeance -- and also says Brandon, being an actual good singer, doesn't have to do as many runs and vocal acrobatics with the song. Which is something I almost always agree with, but in Brandon's case -- both watching it live and then re-watching for the recap -- I didn't notice the runs at all, which means I don't think he was overdoing it. Because, as always, I am the one true arbiter of all things factual. Paula agrees with Randy, actually, which always makes me nervous. Either one of them can be negative and their opinion won't count because...well, their opinion totally doesn't count. Ask Phil later on, he knows. But they rarely ever both go negative if Simon isn't also going that route. Simon says the song was "safe and predictable" and won't be all that memorable. He says Brandon is better than that. I have a feeling if Brandon had performed later on in the show, Simon might have been more lenient, seeing how well he compares to the other guys. Even on a so-so night (which this may well have been), he's on another level. Brandon tells Ryan that he did indeed choose a song -- he doesn't say "safe," but he says "comfortable," which is essentially the same thing -- that he'd be able to sing even if his first-night nerves got the better of him. So Simon, once again, is right. I know that can be annoying, but tonight it's the truth. And don't think Seacrest hasn't noticed, either.

up is the clip reel for Sundance, and we're reminded how he used to be awesome, and then his voice went on strike. You've got to provide dental benefits, Sundance, it's just the responsible thing to do! He acknowledges that the reason he's even here is because his very good audition carried him though a very weak couple days in Hollywood. We're reminded of Big Boiled Sundance and how he thought he was going home. And even at this point, I still thought Sundance had enough to turn his ship around and start singing right. Those hopes last until the opening notes of his chosen song, The Moody Blues' "Nights in White Satin." Oh, dude. It's not laugh-out-loud funny, like Will Makar singing "Lady" was; it's more like those moments in Christopher Guest movies where you're just too embarrassed to even produce laughter. It just doesn't sound like he's putting enough of his voice into the song. I mean, beyond all the notes he's not hitting, it just sounds like his vocal chords seized up on him. It's terrible.

Randy's almost mystified that someone could go through an entire performance and "not hit the tone, ever." He kicks it to Paula, whose exact word is, "Ayeee..." Dude, what kind of a feeling would that elicit in the pit of your stomach. Paula Abdul being all "...yikes" about your performance. Paula tries to blame the song -- it is a patently ridiculous song, let's be honest -- but agrees that he was not on pitch. Simon reminds Sundance -- Paula did, too -- that he was one of the best during auditions, like, we realize that. He says tonight Sundance sang like "Dad at a wedding," from the way he sang to the way he moved his arms, everything. I'm thinking it's maybe time for Simon to retire the "drunken dad/uncle wedding singer" descriptions, considering that's what he called Taylor every single week last season and it never once worked. Simon goes on to say that if he'd auditioned this way in Memphis, he'd have never gotten through. The audience has yet to start booing or registering its disagreement in any way, so Simon...just keeps going. Finally, he's like, "I don't like you tonight," because he's at the very bottom of his bag of insults. Seriously, what else were they waiting for him to say? "Frankly, Sundance, your mother's a right fat old tart, isn't she?" Sundance thanks him, because what else are you going to do, and Ryan at long last makes it up to the stage. And holy hell, people, Sundance is SHORT. Or else Ryan is on roller skates, one or the other. Ryan is like a foot taller. Ryan Seacrest should not be a foot taller than anyone. Not even Charla. He sarcastically brings up Simon's "the way you moved your arms" comment, like Simon's comment was so stupid, even though if you watched the performance you know exactly what he was talking about. Sundance kept making these grandiose arm motions. So anyway, Paula's like, "I know what you can do with your arms!" And then she starts rubbing her palms all over her chest, looking for all the world like she's trying to create static electricity. I actually said out loud, "Paula, why are you rubbing your boobs like -- oh. Oooooh, I see." Because she's making fun of Simon's man-boob fondling. Okay, Abdul, I'll give you that one, as ineptly as that joke was constructed. Ryan eagerly co-signs and then looks at Sundance -- who wants no part of any of this -- and goes, "It's going to be a long year." Yeah, you're telling me.

Seacrest teases that a past Idol will be showing up on Thursday's show (psst! It's Fantasia!), and then up is Paul Kim. Oh, effing great. Remember Paul? With the really annoying breathy voice? And the steadfast refusal to wear shoes? Paul interviews that when he auditioned, it didn't seem to him that Simon liked him very much, which is what I said two weeks ago. He says the bare feet make him feel "free" and "comfortable" and "desirous of everyone's attention at all times." Or maybe he only said the first two out loud. He says they can change anything about him, but they'll never make him wear shoes. Hear that, convenience stores? He's chosen to sing George Michael's "Careless Whisper," which has the benefit of being both perfect for his style of voice and also incredibly irritating if you're not a fan of his style of voice. Also irritating? When he gets to the "guilty feet have got no rhythm" line, he points down to his sweaty bare feet, which is then followed by a close-up of the feet, like we're in a very specific kind of erotic film. So now he's programming his song choices around his feet? Awesome decision. Over Paul's shoulder, the guys are grooving to the song, none more energetically than Chris Richardson, which is fitting and makes me like him all the more. It all falls apart for Paul at the falsetto, where his voice abandons him and doesn't fully return.

When it comes time for the critique, Paul calls Randy "Mr. Jackson," which both Randy and I enjoy. Randy acknowledges the problems with the performance -- would you believe he calls it pitchy? -- including the falsetto, but he stands by his opinion that Paul has one of the best voices on the show. Paula says he oversang the song -- would you believe she called it pitchy? -- but hopes he'll get put through anyway. I enjoy the fact that Paula lives in a universe where no one ever gets voted off this show, and if they do it's because something went horribly, horribly wrong. "Bit rude, Paula," says Simon, as he always does when Paula strays from her sunshine and light norm. He tells Paul that, first of all, he should wear his shoes week, because it's the dumbest fucking attention-grab tactic of all time, and maybe if he sang better he wouldn't need to be all, "Look at me! No shoes again!" about it. I'm paraphrasing. He calls Paul's rendition a "third-rate copy" of the George Michael version and not good enough.

Then stupid Ryan trots up to the stage, bare-footed himself and easily a foot and a half shorter than he normally is. I hope the lifts in his shoes get an Emmy year. So Randy has to actually point this out, because the close-up is insufficient, and the crowd squeals like they're all fetishists all of a sudden. Ryan Seacrest foot fetishists. Scariest fan-fic group ever! Then he says he just had a pedicure and tells Paul he can recommend a good pedicurist. "Good, because I need one," Paul giggles. "I know," Seacrest deadpans. Which is funny, I will readily admit. But my mind is still boggling at how he can be all comfortable-metrosexual-pedicure-fan one minute and overcompensating-hetero-panic-guy the . You are a deeply strange and troubling creature, Ryan Seacrest. And then he goes and actually pulls some useful comments out of the judges. Randy says they're looking for more than "cover songs" from these kids, and Simon thinks, from what he's seen tonight, that the guys are "playing it safe" and thinking middle of the road won't get them voted off. "You could not be more wrong," he says. Paul admits that he's scared shitless of getting voted off, and Ryan gets very sincere and tells him to just loosen up and have some fun while he still can. I added that last part myself.

Hey, here's Chris Richardson. Who I love, as you may have noticed. He mentions how the judges compared him -- vocally and looks-wise -- to Justin Timberlake, which he takes as a compliment. As he damn well should. Back at auditions, we see his super-intense dad yell and scream in celebration when Chris got his golden ticket. He says he wants to "bring charisma to the stage tonight" and "rock out." And rock out he shall...on Gavin DeGraw's "I Don't Want To Be." This marks the third consecutive year, by the way, that this song's been sung on American Idol. This marks the first time, however, that it's actually going for the "that's the theme song from One Tree Hill" vibe than the "listen to the lyrics, he's got cred coming out of his eyeballs!" vibe. As for the performance...okay, know first that when I saw this on Tuesday night, I spent the entire first part of the song cringing because it sounded so bad. Mostly because his voice is naturally very Justin-y and nasally and sounds weird singing this song, and it sounded kind of monotone besides. Watching it back again, I can see a few areas where, once you're used to the tone of Chris's voice, it sounds less car-wreck-ish. Certainly, I can see where that voice isn't going to be everyone's cup of tea, but it's not a deal-breaker for me. And I'm not sure why we're even talking about the beginning of the song anyway, because the real fun comes once Chris breaks it down and takes the mic off the stand. Kid's got charisma, and kid's got energy, and kid looks good in a suit and skinny tie. And if you don't think that's at least 60% of JT's whole deal, well, I would suggest checking out the "My Love" video one more time. (Another 30% is Timbaland, but that's neither here nor there.)

Judges! Randy speaks about a billion words a minute, saying he feels like the show just got started right here and while it wasn't his best performance, Chris "made it kinda work," and then he calls it an "Edwin McCain song," and Simon has to exasperatedly correct him. Randy's the Paula tonight, I just realized. It's not as far a leap as you'd think. Meanwhile, Paula's being all cool and fun, talking about how funny it was to see Chris's dad "dance on the up-beat while you were on the down-beat." She's got shoulder motions and everything; Chris and I both find her pretty delightful. Cut to Chris's dad in the audience, his face alarmingly red, laughing with a combination of giddiness and embarrassment. Simon says he hates to be negative -- in this case I actually do believe him -- but he thought Chris's voice sounded "very small in that song." Which is, again, essentially correct, though the audience registers its objection. He says he likes Chris and thinks people (especially girls) will vote for him, but on the actual merits of the vocal, it was sub-par, and he says if Chris goes back and listens to it, he'll agree. Randy bickers with Simon over this point, and Ryan takes the stage and asks Chris to respond to Simon directly. Which is so stupid, because Simon was not only correct but also 200% kinder than he normally is, because he likes Chris. But anyway, at Ryan's goading, Chris says Simon will have to go back and listen to the vocal again. And Simon goes, "Well maybe both of us should," which is perfect. Did I mention how I hate it when Ryan encourages the lipping off like this? Imagine my discomfort with the rest of this episode going forward. Ryan points out Big Red Dad in the audience before kicking it to the phone numbers.

Back from the break, Ryan's in the lounge with Nick. Ryan first brings up Nick's history of forgetting all the words to everything, and then reminds him of all the millions of people watching him on TV right now. "But don't be nervous!" Nick's video reminds us that he was good but unspectacular at auditions. He tells us that he's from Taunton, MA, and he's a "salesman for a finance company." I say, "No kidding," back at my TV. We see footage from Hollywood this year, where Nick was in the same group as Buckstein, and they sounded...kind of shitty. But he made it! And then he starts getting choked up about, I think, his privileged life? Maybe? That came out of nowhere. Back onstage, Nick is singing Richard Marx's "Now and Forever," and as I said on Tuesday night, only one person has ever been able to sing a Richard Marx song and have it be even remotely acceptable, and Nick Pedro is not that person. Nick Pedro is a clean-cut, handsome guy who works in sales and (from the looks of him right now) has bad posture. Stand up straight, young man! I had originally pegged Nick to last longer than he probably should because he was the most traditionally cute of all the guys, but I think with people like Blake and Brandon and Chris Richardson in the game, bland boy-band cuteness just isn't going to cut it. Sorry, dude.

Randy Jackson asks Nick's permission to keep it real, which is granted. I'd have given cash money for Nick to have asked for sugar-coated optimism instead. But no, everybody has to keep it real or else we'll all die. Randy's truth is that Nick was "really, really boring," and somewhere along the way, we lost Nick. Come on, there was never a Nick to lose. Paula and her Alaina hair say that Nick "fell flat." Simon, and I love the rare occasions when he does this, didn't think it was all that bad. He says clearly there was a lack of the spark that the judges seem to have enjoyed back during auditions, and a lot of nervousness, but vocally, he wasn't so bad. Simon also gives a nod to the cute boy factor, in the usual way he has of saying it without saying it. "Charming" is how he says it. Simon says Nick is "definitely" back week, and I somehow forgot he said that, but it serves me right for doubting the unerring correctness of Simon Cowell. Say what you will about him -- and I'd agree with about 25% of it anyway -- but he was completely correct on 22 out of 24 singers this week, and in the case of Sligh and Lakisha, I think he knew what he was doing besides. Ryan takes the stage and reads off the phone numbers as Nick flashes that winning smile and mouths "Vote for Pedro." Ryan makes him say it out loud, because it's a line from that one annoying movie that all the kids loved.

After the commercials, Ryan reminds us that the girls perform tomorrow, and then he gets distracted by something shiny -- Nicole Tranquillo's face? -- and starts giggling about something or another. Focus, Ryan! It's Blake time! We're reminded of his audition, and then the Hollywood group performance heard 'round the world. We do learn something new, as Blake interviews that he actually didn't want to beatbox during the group performance for fear of being pigeonholed, but his group convinced him. "You haven't seen the last of the beatboxing," he says. "I'll bust it out here and there, but, I mean, it's very much a singing show." Good boy. More than almost anyone else here, Blake's going to have to play smart. If he can be canny with the way he plays to and against type, he could go very far indeed. He tells us -- while wearing a dumb old hat that looks like Mario Vasquez in a touring production of Oliver! -- that being in the top 24 feels "amazing...exclamation point!" And then the Blake smile. Man, of course I love Blake. Who wouldn't?

Onstage, Blake and his smart little sweater vest -- and I do mean little, because apparently this cast is even shorter than last year's cast -- are perched upon a stool. Boring? Not quite. He's singing Keane's "Somewhere Only We Know," which, if the trailers for that Sandra/Keanu movie about the mystical mailbox didn't ruin it for you, is actually a very pretty song. Blake's confidence is carrying him here -- the vocals are pleasant but don't knock you off your feet or anything. There's a shot of what must be Chris's dad singing along, which I loved. It would all add up to a low-key, forgettable performance except for the fact that a) it's Blake, so you're going to remember it anyway, and b) almost everyone else has been pretty bad, so this is a clear step up. Randy says he misses the beatboxing, but he "kinda dug" the performance. Paula likes that he chose an "odd" song -- "odd" apparently in that it isn't a Stevie or Aretha tune, which means it's cuckoo crazy for this show, because in all other contexts, that song is pretty middle-of-the-road -- and really stood out. Blake's very chatty as he receives his critiques, telling Paula he loves her and smilingly asking Simon to "bring it on."

Simon starts by saying it wasn't the best vocal he's heard, but -- and he's interrupted by an isolated "boo!" and Blake smiles and goes, "That's my dad!" "And your mom!" adds Paula. Simon grins and carries on, praising Blake for being the first person tonight to sound like he's from 2007. Which is easy to do when you're the only one singing a song from this decade, but I think it also has to do with Blake himself. He's not a throwback. Simon goes on to praise the lack of beatboxing as absolutely the correct decision, and calls it "by far" the best performance of the night. Ryan gets him to reiterate his whole "singing, not beatboxing" plan, like, thanks for asking the tough questions, Ryan. Why don't you make yourself useful and ask him how he gets his hair to stand up straight like that while still looking so downy soft? Oh, and check this out: Ryan's reading the numbers with Blake and puts an arm around his shoulder like he always does, so Blake puts his arm around Ryan's back, and Ryan literally jumps away and puts his arm back down. I'm sorry that this recap has turned into the Ryan Seacrest Gay Body Language report but seriously. It's hard not to notice.

Sanjaya is , and he's in the lounge with Ryan, who's just asked if any of these guys will be "our Taylor Hicks." That is so not funny. Sanjaya's giant mop of floppy, highlighted hair really clashes with his super-dark eyebrows. On the other hand, the pubestache is gone, which improves things considerably. Ryan asks him about his sister, which is totally old news and nobody cares anymore. Sanjaya says Shyamali was the one who picked out his song for him, and I wonder if we're meant to think weird Melrose Place-ian sibling sabotage thoughts about it. Because all I'm thinking is, I hope she doesn't let him Will Makar his way into oblivion with cutesy crap. Sanjaya is so scarily over-the-top nervous. He can't stop smiling, because if he does, he'll probably throw up. Ryan makes him promise that he'll "fight back" if the judges are mean to him. Oh, crap. Here we go.

We're taken back to Sanjaya's audition, where he looks assier but also more like an actual human child instead of the giant smile with Farrah hair that he looks like now. We're reminded of how he has a sister -- I know! -- and are treated to both Sanjaya's tearful breakdown as well as a half-dozen moments where he was just an awesome brother, with an arm around her and a kiss for the side of her head at all times. I'm sorry, but brothers and sisters can be so adorable. Also, Brothers & Sisters is so adorable, particularly now that Amy Abbott is on the show, can I get a what-what! Aaaaanyway, Sanjaya's singing Stevie Wonder's "Knocks Me Off My Feet." Vocally, it's really not bad. The problem is that it's very boring. Which means all bets are off, really, when it comes to whether he "deserves" to still be here on Thursday. Because "boring" is in the eye of the beholder, so that fact that Sanjaya's brand of boring appeals to teen girls who have a friend who looks exactly like him while Paul Kim's brand of boring only appeals to foot fetishists, it's not really "unfair," is it?

Randy Jackson looks very sad at what he's about to say, which is that Sanjaya "wasn't very good." He says he's going to "look on the bright side," though, but I think Randy doesn't know what "look on the bright side" means. I think he thinks it means "make an example of you for everyone else, including America, to see that I'm really not talking out of my ass." Because he says Sanjaya singing Stevie is what he means when he bitches about song choice: trying to take on a song that is too good for you. Look, I love Stevie Wonder as much as the guy. But to pretend like Stevie's songs are too good for the American Idol kids is almost insulting, given the amount of Stevie songs we've been subjected to over the years, not to mention how he was on the show and everything last year. I get the "that song kicked your ass" complaint ["I don't, in this case; Stevie's version is itself fairly boring" -- Sars], but to put Stevie effing Wonder on this "don't even try it" pedestal is so disingenuous, it makes me want to start a fight. Ah, but we'll get to Seacrest in a second. First, Paula tries to sprinkle some sugar, praising the warmth and easiness of Sanjaya's personality and wishing that had come out more.

, it's Simon's turn, and he's locked and loaded. Which is too bad, because Sanjaya's a sweet kid, but none of what follows is factually inaccurate. Simon mentions the "I don't want to bore you with this" lyric and stresses the irony therein. He says it was dreadfully boring, felt like it lasted forever, and was in general a big waste of a performance. Ouch. But, you know, it was boring. He doesn't say Sanjaya's voice was bad. He's not lying. Ryan hops up onto the stage and tells Sanjaya he wants him to respond to Simon: "You can't just take that." Dude, sure he can. And he'll get votes by doing so. I'm annoyed with Ryan here not only because I hate when he tries to start shit like this, but also because I don't see any good that will come of this. Sanjaya's a meek little kid -- he's totally going to get shown up by Simon, and Ryan getting all "stand up for yourself, Poindexter" about it makes him look like even more of a wuss. Sanjaya says, "I guess I...appreciate? His...honesty?" Ryan flips out, because he wants a fight. "You can't just take his honesty." Yeah, you gotta be a pissy little bitch about it! Shut up, Ryan. Sanjaya settles on hoping America will like him anyway, and Simon offers that America will like his hair. True. Sanjaya, bless his floppy-haired heart, brightens up and goes, "Oh, thank you!" And then he sees his opportunity to satisfy Seacrest's shrieking desire for blood without being too much of a snot about it and says, "I'm sure they'll like yours, too." Happy now, Ryan? No, in fact, he has to go to Paula for positive reinforcement, which ignites a squabble about whether Sanjaya being 17 is a "factor" or an "excuse" or whatever. Obviously his age is a factor. He's the only teenage boy. He's got a demographic all to himself for the time being, which is why he's going to stick around for a little while. Ryan finally calms down long enough to let this charade end, and Sanjaya's giant smile deflects all bad feelings and radiates little sparkles that say "Vote for me! My hair has restorative properties!"

Ryan returns from commercial and reminds us that we've got five hours of programming this week, and if that's not enough, "get some professional help." Yeah, no kidding. Chris Sligh is . Remember how he was funny and talented at auditions? In his interview, he talks about being in that giant crowd at the baseball stadium in Birmingham and having to sing "Sweet Home Alabama" roughly 37 times. "I didn't like the song to begin with, but now if I ever hear it again I'll probably go postal." Word on the sentiment, dude, but "go postal" is pretty dated for a comic genius such as yourself. I mean, Chris is great and all, but there's a difference between being the guy who can sing and is also funny and The Funny Guy who can also sing. And just like how Blake has had to wrestle with both arms to make sure he's not The Beatboxing Guy who can also sing, Chris needs to be careful in managing his image. He acknowledges his "humor" as a big part of the reason he's here, and says his strengths include "strategy and song choice," which is interesting. That is one dangerous minefield to cross, with song choice being deemed a huge factor one week and absolutely not a factor the . He says while he loves everyone else, only one person gets to sing "Do I Make You Proud?" at the end, "and I'm looking forward to that." His face falls into a dead grimace at that last part, and it's very scary.

I had to look up the song Chris is singing -- "Typical" by Mute Math -- and I do confess I originally thought it was a Christian song, because I'm apparently into religious profiling. He sings the verses with a kind of jaw-clenchiness that's not that appealing, but once the chorus hits, he's very impressive. Lot of energy, lots of spirit, and if I'd ever heard this song before in my life, I'd be very into it like Amy Krebs apparently is. On the strategic song choice tip, it's certainly a canny decision. It's all about "breaking the spell" of the "typical," which is what Chris wants to do by winning. I'm never all that impressed by people who constantly want to remind you how utterly different they are from everyone else. How they're not "mainstream" or whatever. It's the first week, so I'm merely filing this one away for future reference, but I'm a little wary of Chris. But, like I said: great performance, fun, and vocally pleasant. Randy concedes that Chris's voice was "ahead of the beat" a little bit, but it's "all good" because he's a Chris fan and he loved it. Paula completely buys into the song choice in exactly the way Chris wants her to, assuring him that he's very much not "typical." She acknowledges what Randy said about being ahead of the chorus, "...but so what?" I love every time Paula does that. "Singing, schminging. Touchdown!" Simon...oh boy...okay, this needs a new paragraph.

Okay, so Simon first goes back to Chris's video package and agrees with him that his sense of humor got him here, which is a bit of a low blow, because Chris was just being self-effacing. Simon likes Chris and thinks he's a "fantastic personality," but -- and you kind of knew this was coming -- he says he "felt like we were at some weird student gig." This is because Simon's not familiar with the song, of course, and anything he's not familiar with might as well be your stoner floor-mate's acoustic "concert" at 2 AM on a Wednesday for all he cares. Not to mention that Chris looks like a college freshman anyway, particularly with the untucked shirt and loose tie. I'm not the biggest fan of Simon's wild metaphors, but this wasn't the worst one he's ever come up with. Randy and Paula and Ryan, however, act like he's just pulled a Paula and said something about singing the truth of your butterfly wings. They're all like, "Why are the students singing?" It would be kind of funny if it weren't for Ryan, the bug up whose ass is righteously angry tonight. Simon tells him to pipe down, as always, and calls him "sweetheart." As always. Ryan flips out and gets really offended that Simon just called him "sweetheart." Like he hasn't called you that every week, on schedule, since 2002. I don't understand any of this. When did Ryan Seacrest develop a capacity for shame? Simon's looking at him like, "Whaaaaaat's the deal here?" Then Ryan gets more hetero-panicky about "We don't have that kind of a relationship." Does he think we've all been in comas? Of course you do!

So then Ryan lets Chris talk, and Chris has been writing this script in his head for a while, I think. He says that "obviously" the crowd liked it, which already puts him in Guarini territory, which is not good territory to be in, as a rule. He says this style of music is very popular right now, which may very well be true, and it's a decent point to make and I don't have a problem with that. Then he gets to the meat of his scripted remarks: "What I have to say is that just because I don't sing Il Divo or Teletubbies doesn't mean that I'm not a good singer." There's an audible "OH!" in the audience, and Randy and Paula start dancing around like goofballs, and you can't see Seacrest but I'm sure he's smirking his midget ass off. And Simon just checks out. Just shuts down. He gets off a weak "You could always do the latter," but then he admits, "You've made it very uncomfortable," and won't look at the stage. The absence of Simon as an authority figure is scary enough in auditions, when the Sarah Goldbergs of the world start freaking out and screaming about being "UNIQUE! WOO!" in semifinals, it's like a disaster movie. I think Karen Black was just ushered to the judges' table and told she has to land the rest of this show or else we're all going down. Chris kind of realizes he's stepped over a line, because he's backtracking with a lot of "and you know I love you" in Simon's direction. On the merits, it's not such an outrageous comment and Simon can choose to be offended by it if he wants to. But the fact that it sounded so rehearsed and sour-grapes-y, plus the Seacrest-as-harpy factor, added up to more of a smart-ass punk vibe, which isn't the likeable funny guy image that he's been projecting. Not your best performance, dude.

Back in the lounge, Ryan's sitting with the three guys who've yet to sing, A.J., Jared, and Phil. It's Jared's turn right now. Ryan asks if he's worried about going down there after the towering inferno of awfulness that just went down. Jared -- who isn't behaving at all cockily or smarmily or eye-fuckily, like he was during the Chair episode, which makes it hard to dislike him like I was prepared to -- says he's from New York, so he can take it. Ryan refers to "Ego, down there" -- yeah, good one, Masculinity Complex -- and Jared says Simon's a "sweetheart." His video package is unremarkable (he lost his job...as a waiter) except to showcase his giant dark eyebrows that look painted on. Onstage, he's singing Brian McKnight's "Back At One," which is an annoying song from an boring singer, so Jared's doing no favors for himself...if he's looking to impress only me. Which he's not. I'm sure the judges will be just fine with him. Vocally, he's not awful, but not exactly good either. I'd be surprised to see him make it out of semifinals, honestly. This song is so dumb, honestly. Someone actually wrote the lyric, "Four: repeat steps one through three." It's like Alanis Morissette -- whose songs are all giant lists anyway -- wrote her own version of the "Dick in a Box" song and got bored halfway through.

Randy didn't like the way it ended, but it was okay. Jared affably says he wishes he could have gone longer, but he only had 1:30. Paula prefers Jared singing up-tempo, and didn't think he did enough with the arrangement beyond what Brian McKnight did. Simon calls it an "unadventurous performance" and calls it "a bit nasally." This draws BOOS. Simon does allow that Jared's one attractive motherfucker. This draws CHEERS. Oh, you sheeply audience members, you. Ryan cranes his neck and snaps a few vertebrae trying to look up at Jared, and they talk boring nonsense talk about stepping up his game or whatever. Jared's not a jerk anymore, but he is a little boring.

up is A.J., who is a complete non-entity thus far. He's got the Hilary Duff Porcelain Veneers of Fear going on, which are hard to forget, though A.J. himself does his best to make everything just vanish before your eyes. Also contributing to that is the fact that he's two-foot-five and would be dwarfed by, like, Paris Bennett. Oh, right, A.J.'s the one who has auditioned five out of the last six years. Which is a sad commentary on the contestant pool this time around. Way to poison the well, Taylor. So A.J.'s singing "Never Too Much" by Luther Vandross, and he's having a lot of fun with it, with his little popped collar and his general girliness in the face area and his arms up above his head, waving 'em in the air, like he just don't care. The singing isn't bad. Certainly this week it's good enough to get him by. Paula's up and dancing and singing along, and because she's got all her wits about her this week, it's fun instead of sad. And then she and Simon play musical chairs while Randy tries to talk. They're such kindergarteners some times. Randy recognizes the arms-up energy of the performance and mildly praises it. Paula's more enthusiastic in her approval and tells us she looked over to the Girl Pound while he was singing, and she tries to convince us the girls were going wild for him. Which is hilarious, because, like, Amy and Gina could play a round of one-on-one hoops and use A.J. as the ball. Simon says it was "kind of a theme-park performance," albeit a good theme park, which is funny. He does allow that maybe A.J. is better than he originally thought, which is totally all A.J. needed to hear. Of course, Seacrest takes the stage -- once again, it's not right to see Ryan tower over anyone else -- and kind of dumps cold water on A.J.'s happiness, calling Simon's comments a "compliment/dis." Way to be an asshole, Seacrest. Seriously, who peed in his Pinkberry this week?

One more! Ryan asks if we've saved the best for last. They generally do, and if they don't, they tend to lie about it. The video package takes us back to auditions, where we actually see Phil explain to the judges how his wife wasn't due to give birth for another week, but she delivered early while Phil was auditioning in Memphis. I guess you could say this was damage control for one of the show's "chosen ones," making sure everyone knows Phil's not some wife abandoner, but, like, wasn't it pretty obvious anyway that that's what happened? Unless you really want to read some wickedness into Phil beyond his alien head and too-blue eyes, I wouldn't think there was any damage to control. Anyway, we're also reminded that Phil's voice was not all that great in auditions -- due to the overload of emotions, perhaps -- but when he showed up in Hollywood he was suddenly amazing. Even Paula and Simon thought so. Phil's wife and daughters packed up and moved to Hollywood with him for the Idol season, so maybe we won't have to hear him embroiled in the usual Daughtry-and-Pickler infidelity drama that crops up every season.

Onstage, Phil's dressed in his hipster uniform of t-shirt, jeans, and vintage jacket. Also, I normally don't advocate the wearing of stupid hats, but the alien-head issue is a real issue, and maybe Phil can be an exception to the no-hats rule. He's singing Edwin McCain's "I Could Not Ask For More," which is one of those songs it seems I should like but I really don't. Also on the list of things I should be liking but don't is Phil's singing. At least during the first half of the song. He's not hitting any of the right notes at all! Dude! Shape up, pretty eyes. Then...something changes when he hits the...I guess it's the chorus, but the song is structured weirdly so it sounds like a bridge (keep in mind I know nothing about music, so that could be completely wrong)...well, whatever part of the song it is, it's the part where Phil has decided to start kicking ass. He's carrying around the mic stand all Daughtry-like (why do I keep comparing Phil with Chris? I mean, besides the baldness and the polarizing issue of the staring into the camera and the self-conscious wardrobe thing and the fact that I'm going to like him for a while, I think, and a lot of other people will most certainly not) and amping up the energy and singing on key and stuff like that. It seems like Phil was just treading water in the early part of the song until he got here, which is a dangerous way to approach this competition, because it will end up biting him in the ass if he keeps it up, but for now, he's pulled it off.

Phil's cute-as-a-button wife is smiling a great big smile as we go to the judges. Phil's vamping around about how nerve-wracking it all was, and it's walking a fine line of insincerity, but maybe that's just how he is. Randy is really excited about the performance, though, and calls it the best one of the night. Which is not true, but it's nice of Randy to say regardless. And after a night full of underwhelming performances, I can see where Randy might be tempted to latch on to the last thing he sees and call it a night. Paula says Phil started off very shaky but he "opened up" at the end. "Opened up" is a great way of putting that, and as always, it's scary when Paula's completely right. Simon takes Paula's correctness and puts his mean British judge spin on it, calling the beginning of the song "monstrous." He's, again, not wrong. Phil scrunches up his face and says he thought so too. See, I loved that. Confidence is the way to go when you're trying to sell yourself, but I like this kind of honesty, too. Simon says he doesn't think, as Randy does, that it was the best of the night. He and Randy go back and forth for a bit, with Paula agreeing with Simon and not being all weird about it. I like what Alaina Alexander's hair has done for Paula's wherewithal this week. Keep it up. Simon also references Daughtry in describing how Phil didn't exactly nail it, but it was "okay." And then he and Randy come to an understanding that "for tonight" it was good enough. That was some damn fine judging, I must say. Refreshingly free of their usual bullshit.

Speaking of which...Ryan takes the stage. He references Britney in relation to Phil's head, which is a joke you kind of had to make, by law. Did any of you guys see that clip of Kelly Clarkson finding out about Britney's head-shaving during a press conference? And she was like, "Y'all, no she did not!" and then had a reporter show it to her on his laptop? I love Kelly Clarkson. Anyway, Ryan asks for a reaction, and Phil says he "100% agree[s] with Simon." Ha! Suck it, Seacrest. Phil acknowledges that he was really rough at the beginning, but he's committed to improving. I so much prefer this attitude to the whiny "I hope America likes me anyway" that the sucky contestants opt for. Randy Jackson is actually wounded by this, and he's all, "But I said I liked you! I was the good cop! Well then I take it back -- I don't like you anymore! And give me back that friendship bracelet! And you're no longer vice-president of the We Hate Nigel Lythgoe Club!" Poor Randy. The one time tonight he reverts to being the nice guy and it comes back to bite him. Phil, meanwhile, is working overtime to make sure he hasn't alienated Randy and Paula, and I don't blame him. Simon's probably less likely to hold on to a grudge against Chris, because money is money. Randy and Paula have enough weird emotions flying through their brains that they could remember this for time. Phil assures them, and us, and America as a whole, that he loves us all. Yeah, you're gonna want to watch that "I love you all" stuff, buddy. Not only because it's insincere but because that's a good way to catch something.

Before Ryan kicks it to the wrap-up, he turns it back to Simon. Of course. He asks, in his prissiest tone of voice, why Simon is being so negative tonight. Um, because so many people sucked? Do we have to go through this every single year like we're in Memento and can't remember how we got the answer to this question several times already? "Unlike you," Simon replies, "I actually respect the audience at home, and I don't believe in lying to them." He's not wrong. Ryan makes the childish "I think you just like to hear yourself talk" argument, which is essentially true but skirts the merits of the question. He could enjoy himself talk while spouting flower petals and sea breezes about the contestants, too. He doesn't want to "patronize" people, either in studio or at home. And while I certainly don't believe Simon's this altruistic crusader for unvarnished honesty, I feel him when he's like, "So I should lie to them instead? When my entire job is to evaluate them?" Ryan whines about "positive reinforcement," which I guess is the "constructive criticism" for 2007. I've mocked the judges for the "just sing better" school of advice, but on second thought, I think that's the only advice you can give. If you're supposedly enough of a pro that you feel ready to win this competition, that's all you should need. And furthermore, how is "you're boring us" not constructive? It tells you to not be boring time. As Simon essentially tells us, not in so many words, Ryan's there for the hand-holding; Simon's there to tell the truth. I'll be sympathetic to Ryan's whining once Simon stops being right.

Recap montage: Lipless Rudy still not really pronouncing his words. Brandon being easily among the best of the right, when you look back at it. Sundance singing in that horrible weird voice he seems to have just invented that morning. Paul Kim pointing to his feet. Chris Richardson and his perfect circle of a head (thanks, Sars). Nick Pedro and his slumpy posture. Blake Lewis in his Sunday casuals. Sanjaya the boring moppet. Chris Sligh rocking out and being pretty great when he's not being a punk-ass. Jared singing a stupid song about counting. A.J. scaring children with his capped teeth. And Phil rocking a mini-Jesus pose before giving us a double shot of The Eyes.

Ryan doles out the thanks and promises The Girls tomorrow, and we get to see the awesome dancing video which has weirdly become one of my favorite things about semi-finals. And I love that this year they're dancing to a Kat McPhee song and Bo's version of "Vehicle." Glad to see they're getting work somewhere. Based solely on dancing evidence, I want to hang out with Haley, Jordin, and Gina. Back with Ryan, Jared valiantly tries to keep his face in the shot for as long as possible. A nice reminder of the "don't ever stop looking at me!" nature of the show and its ninety hours of programming this week. And we're totally not even halfway done.