You know how it goes by now: twelve guys, twelve girls, five programming hours, and four eliminations in three days. And a whole damn lot of filler. This...is why I'm really happy we're doing weecaps this year.
Ryan -- dressed in black-on-black so Amy Winehouse knows he's on her side -- repeats what he usually says at this stage of the game, specifically, "Thank God the auditions are over!" I love that that's what he says every year, and every year the auditions seem to stretch on longer and longer. We meet the Top 12 guys as they file past the camera and make their desperate stabs at resonance: David Hernandez (double thumbs up), Chikezie (hideous orange suit), David Cook (wink and a gang sign), Jason Yeager (dorky wave), Robbie Carrico (still with the Bret Michaels bandana), David Archuleta (double wave), Danny Noriega (skinny tie, hands on hips), Luke Menard (double peace signs), Colton Berry (finger guns, oh Colton), Garrett Haley (my eternal confusion), Jason Castro (single peace sign), and Michael Johns (bundled up in a scarf for that harsh indoor California climate).
Ryan says the semifinals are going to go the same as they have the last two seasons (I trust you all to remember the process -- we've got recaps if you don't). The judges don't say much of note. Ryan continues to push the "most talented Top 24 ever" angle hard, so I guess that's their response to the whole "ringer" "controversy." Though he does follow that up with some props to the judges for "finding" the Top 24 this year, which should make all the right heads explode in the conspiracy circles. Then we get a recap of the guys' paths to the semifinals, which tries to turn the spotlight onto the Invisibles -- Jason Yeager, Colton Berry, Garrett Haley, Jason Castro, David Hernandez -- just so we have proof they actually existed before last Wednesday. And since the audience has clearly been exhausted by all this content, we head to commercial.
When we get back, Ryan delivers the bullshit news that, for the first time ever, the semifinals will have theme nights, with tonight being "The '60s." Oh, good. I was hoping we'd get to make these kids pretend to be fifty years old a lot sooner. David Hernandez kicks the actual show part of the show off with a gospel arrangement of "In The Midnight Hour." It's a solid vocal performance but it's very...it stays in one place. Not just that David himself doesn't move much (he doesn't), but it's just a very stand-n-sing performance, and I think to do that the vocal has to be much more interesting. Randy dug the gospel vibe and declares the competition ON! Paula compliments David's "perfect vibrato," which is fairly accurate. Simon, who you'll remember wasn't onboard with David's inclusion here, says it was better than he thought it would be. Of course, he goes on to trash the middle and end parts of the song, but he liked the beginning! He also (agreeing with me because why wouldn't he?) says David seemed stiff and needs to loosen up. Additionally, we learn that "rabbit in the headlights" is a valid phrase if you're English. Or maybe just Simon. David nervously begs for votes while Ryan smarts off to Simon. Same as it ever was.
Jason Yeager is , and we learn that he is both a singing waiter and a dad. My guess is that the one didn't exactly lead to the other. Anybody who's been so turned on by their singing waiter that they took him home can feel free not to email me. I'm instantly pissed that we didn't get to see more of him during auditions/Hollywood, because he seems like such a genuine person, likeable and enthusiastic. And then we cut to the stage where he's seated and singing "Moon River." God damn it. It's not that it's a bad song -- it's actually a very good song, and in the right context it can bring a tear to your eye. At least if you're Nelson Muntz. But in this context -- the stool, the looking deeply into the camera, the pointing at the audience -- is way too Michael Bublé for me, despite the fact that Jason's voice is quite pleasant. I guess they weren't joking about the talent this season. Even the lame ducks are bringing it. Then we cut to the audience, where Jason's kid looks like if Milla Jovovich played Karen Silkwood, but with a spit curl thrown in for personality. I'm not being mean -- Milla Jovovich is awesome. Randy thinks the song's deceptive simplicity made Jason lose the thread in the middle, which Paula agrees with. She also says she performed her first ballet recital to that song, which is weird to think about. The idea of Paula balancing on her toe for any length of time...you see what I mean? After Jason invokes the season's first dead grandma in the name of the song, Simon (mocking Paula) says he "bought [his] first puppy to that song." Hee. He then says, fairly accurately, that the performance made Jason seem old and "cruise shippy." Paula says it's hard not to on '60s songs, which again I can't 100% disagree with. At the very least it's tough to tell if the song or Jason is the culprit. Then Simon calls Jason a "dependable old dog," which makes me cringe like mad. That's so much meaner than Simon intends it to be, I think. Rather that rush to defend Jason's honor, Ryan gets him to admit that vocal coaches have warned him against being too "cabaret" before. Man, I am never going to figure Ryan Seacrest out. Not in a million years. Where's the false outrage? The pettiness? The making me want to punch him?
After the break, it's time for Boy Band of Love, with Robbie Carrico. Robbie's video package includes him talking about his former "boy/girl band" and how they toured with Britney Spears, which is weird because I thought the show was evilly trying to conceal such matters. We also see he performed Fuel's "Hemorrhage" in Hollywood and was a pale, pale imitation of Chris Daughtry but got put through anyway. He performs "One Is The Loneliest Number," and I feel confident that I don't have to clarify that he doesn't perform it in the style of Aimee Mann. It's an odd choice to do a '60s song that's already been successfully imported into the modern era, but Robbie does a good, if generic, job with it. If he weren't drowning in wallet chains, leather bracelets, and bandanas, I might go so far as to call it "understated," but I can't in good conscience do that. Randy was "rockin' out" to it. Which, of course, makes it the un-rockingest thing of the night, by definition. Paula thinks he's "authentic" (which means "dirty-looking" in Stolichnayish), but Simon actually doesn't buy that. He asks Robbie to speak for himself on that issue, and Robbie, after assuring us he can sing any style, says he's all about the rock. And then he seals his fate forever when he actually points to all his accoutrements, as if offering us proof of his true rockerness. Everything you ever thought about people who wear wallet chains and leather cuffs is coming true in the person of Robbie Carrico. "Check out my bad-ass bandana, Simon. How 'bout my long, dirty hair? Need I say more?" Ryan takes the stage and says Robbie truly rocks, yet also "looks like Justin Timberlake." Robbie furiously shakes his head at this, and LISTEN HERE, POSEUR. Ryan was trying to pay you a compliment by outright lying to your fat face. You should be so lucky!
So up is Garrett Haley, and I still am at a total loss as to this one. I mean...I thought the little girl from Atonement grew up to be Vanessa Redgrave. Now I see she's bought herself a Frampton wig and is trying to become a pop star? This is no way to atone, little girl! From his audition footage, we see he sings in a very thin, feminine voice, and he speaks with an utterly indecipherable half-accent. What the holy fuck is this kid's deal? He's like mercury or something; every time I think I've got him pegged, there he goes, evading my grasp. His performance, a technically proficient rendition of "Breaking Up Is Hard To Do," doesn't help me at all. Can't he just suck? That would be so much easier. But he doesn't suck. And he's not boring either. It's a slow, spare rendition of the song, but I prefer it immensely to the sugarcane awfulness of, say, Anthony Fedorov's performance of same. It's actually, improbably, a really good performance, but I haven't the first clue what kind of odd creature is delivering it. Randy has no idea either, so he falls back on old clichés, saying he didn't make it his own. Paula thinks he kept the tempo too slow for too long. Eh. I can't stand that song all bumpy and teen-angel-like, so I'm not the person to judge by. Simon hated all of it -- the boringness, the "terrified" stage presence, and the fact that Garrett looks like the girl who died of anorexia and is now haunting your attic. Garrett takes it well, considering. It's the weirdest thing. I don't know anymore. How do you solve a problem like Garrett Haley? Fuck if I know.
Jason Castro. God damn it. I will tell you this, and this is for the benefit of my sister if no one else, I freely admit that Jason would be the grade-A hottie of the show for sure if he cut that shit off his head. He seems like a really nice guy, unassuming, pretty blue eyes. What the hell, dude? Why you gotta push me away like this? Anyway, Jason's the first one to accompany himself on an instrument tonight, unless you count Robbie's wallet chain as percussion. "What A Day For A Daydream" is one of those songs that isn't a song anymore but an advertising jingle, and it's not like Jason adds a whole lot to it, even with the strummy guitar, but it's awfully pleasant to listen to. Fuck, I think I kind of like him. Stop freaking me out with your charming competence, you kids! Randy sez: "A'ight." Paula thought less, in Jason's case, was more. Simon thought it was in the "top two performances of the night." Really?! Wow. He was good, but...well, actually, looking back at the night we've either had steady competence (David H., Robbie; David A.) boring competence (Luke, Garrett), cabaret competence (Chikezie, Jason Y.) and doomed gay Elvis (Colton, Danny). So I guess I might put Jason up with David Cook as my favorites of the night, too. Weird.
Lastly, here's Michael Johns. I liked him in his audition. Then he appeared slighty...Val Kilmer on the skids in Hollywood, and I liked him slightly less. Then there was that whole scarf thing an hour and fifty minutes ago. That sure didn't help. And he's singing "Light My Fire" by The Doors. Ooooh. I have a feeling this would be a way bigger obstacle for some of us here at the site than it is for me. I can take or leave The Doors just fine. And I'd be lying if I said I didn't take part in a drunken "L.A. Woman" singalong in my time. That being said, I was worried I was going to like this performance and have all my bad feelings about the scarf go to waste. Not to worry! I'm not loving this. His voice isn't good enough that he can get away with not totally rocking out. As it stands, he's trying to play it somewhat smoldering and it's leaving the vocals in this no man's land between screaming (which would have been fine in this setting) and actually hitting the notes. The judges love it, of course. Randy says it was like watching a legendary rock performer like Michael Hutchence. Not to overstate things or anything. Paula seems to believe he actually set things on fire in the studio, but the mere fact that she hasn't gone up in flames herself should be proof enough that he hasn't. Simon wasn't as enamored as he might have been, but he thinks Michael has the natural charisma of a leading man. Which he does, granted. And he looks a lot more Jeremy Sisto tonight than he did in Hollywood, so that's another positive.
Rundown: David Hernandez burying himself way in the back of our memory, Chikezie and his two-drink minimum, David Cook being as good as I remember, Jason Yeager hosting the Miss Carnival Cruise pageant, Robbie and his Halloween costume, David Archuleta being better than I remember, Danny doing a fantastic job at something stupid like an Elvis song, Luke being..., Colton doing those weird mannerisms, Garrett blowing my mind with weirdness, Jason blowing my mind with not being a d-bag, and John Michael Australia keeping his neck warm with fashion.
Tomorrow, it's Jacob and the ladies. Thursday, four will go home. Of the boys, I'd say it's Luke and Garrett, unless America don't care for gay Elvis.