The pristine silence that Ryan Seacrest usually enjoys during his pre-credits intro is spoiled by the Archuleta fans in the pit, who have obviously been given extra sugar this week because they have been extra special annoying and haven't once shut up in 24 hours. This is me hoping they'll all have to cry bitter tears this week or .
The audience is full of Season 7 castoffs and glamourpuss Broadway producers as Ryan welcomes us back and introduces the judges. Ryan brags that the Top 3 elimination is historically the most soul-scarring, even though I don't really remember that ever being the case. I'm pretty sure Nikki McKibbin and Vonzell and Jasmine and whoever else knew they were toast. Melinda, sure, but you know I don't like to talk about that. Then Ryan makes a joke about Paula's monster cleavage and tells us that Fantasia will be here tonight.
The Top 3 group sing is to "Ain't No Stoppin' Us Now," which is, of course, painfully false for 33% of the people singing it. The insane choreography is largely absent, though it's made up for by an extended trip into the audience. The backup singers carry the weight for about 90% of the song, and Syesha continues her trend of looking more and more gorgeous every time we see her. Like, after another couple commercial breaks, she'll be even hotter. Crazy. The poor beautiful girl is left to sing in the crowd while the Davids head back to the stage, which means she suddenly has a lot of backs turned to her, because they're the show, and unfortunately, she's not. After yesterday's recap from Jacob I'm starting to feel territorial, so I am compelled to note that David Cook is looking awfully fine right about now. So weird how that happened.
After the break, the pimpmercial video is for that song "Heaven" by (I think) that band whose name sounds like Los Lobos. You know, Bo sang it in his season? Yes, I could probably look it up, but then the song wins. The video is all about the glamorous futures that lay before these three, but since I don't see the third lead in the Legally Blonde musical anywhere on my screen, I'm thinking we're being a bit optimistic. David Archuleta's champagne fantasy, I should note, looks almost exactly like Happy Gilmore's, minus Julie Bowen in a teddy with twin pitchers of beer. Weirdly enough, everyone's fantasy involves one to three Ford motor vehicles. How odd.
Recap of last night: David A. washing all the feeling out of "And So It Goes," Syesha rocking the very most one can possibly rock an Alicia Keys song, and David C. doing Roberta Flack and being kind of boring. Then David A. was as trainwrecky as he's ever been on the three words he remembered from that Chris Brown song, Syesha was utterly predictable on "Fever," a song that long ago lost its ability to be unpredictable, and David C. left his critics much room to snicker with some Switchfoot. Finally, David A. sang the world's most David A. song that didn't come from a cartoon, Syesha discovered that, whatever she's going to be after this show, the Rihanna is not it, and David Cook was swallowed whole by the one thousand musical instruments necessary to properly perform "I Don't Want To Miss A Thing," the greatest single thing the world has ever produced.
Oh, and I should probably spend a few words talking about the mayor of David's town and his Rollie Fingers mustache. It's insane. It's immaculate. It is in the hall of fame of egregious and meticulous mustaches, alongside Chester A. Arthur, John Waters, and Sidney Crosby in this year's Stanley Cup Playoffs.
Back onstage, David's embarrassed by all the crying he did ("...gosh"), and Ryan's like, "Yeah, human feelings are a bitch," and I can't tell if it's more likely that he's being sarcastic or honestly empathizing. He reads off David's stats, then kicks it to a pre-emptive Idol Journey just in case he gets the boot (and which means you know that this hour is programmed out to the last possible second of overrun). The goddamn Archie Girls have apparently adapted and evolved and are now waiting for Ryan's pauses before yelping "I love you, David!" You know, I hate to play the curmudgeon and say it, but I think these girls are ruining the phrase "I love you" for the rest of us. What can it truly mean after it's been said to David Archuleta so many times? So David's Idol Journey takes us back to auditions, when I was crazy and thought I'd be the one defending him from the slings and arrows of you crazy assholes instead of the other way around. Then I dumped him for Danny Noriega, but he didn't care because he was busy becoming The Winner of American Idol back at, like, Top 24. Then he got boring, then the boring got annoying, and then Randy Jackson kept screaming about how he was the best, and then came his Neil Diamond apocalypse and it was over for us.
After the break, it's Syesha's turn on the hot seat. Her trip home -- to Sarasota, FL, fancy! -- is just as typical as David's. Some lady shoves her baby into Syesha's arms for a photo op, because people really don't have any shame anymore. I'm quite interested in Syesha's hot piece of a bodyguard, but we never really get back to him after he wards off the baby-throwers. Syesha cries at her high school, and goes to her actual home where her parents are made to wear "Syesha!" t-shirts and her dad is made to talk about his struggles with addiction. At her high school, she says maybe the most typical things you could think to say (wow, "live your dreams" -- I think I will!), but then she manages to be genuinely excited/terrified to fly in a helicopter, which I think is about right. Much in the same way as David Archuleta, I'm kind of eternally searching for the real Syesha. Who's not as horrible as I once thought she might be, I've decided. Anyway, more tears in the car ride back to the airport, because the visits home are all about wringing the tears out of these kids, and more talk about living your dreams. Yes, yes. Understood.
Back onstage, we see Syesha's Idol Journey: that audition that I totally hated, whoring out her dad, that annoying-ass lost-voice crap she pulled in Hollywood. I actually have no idea when I turned the corner and started actually liking her, despite her many limitations, but the last few weeks have been a very Syesha-positive time. My dream was apparently to be a reluctant supporter of Syesha Mercado, and I am living it!
Finally, it's time for David Cook. Ryan calls David's little brother Andrew to the stage (not the one who's sick, I'm fairly certain), and David tells the story about how it was really Andrew who was auditioning and David, merely there for moral support, was plucked by the producers to audition. What a great, probably-mostly-truthful story! So David went home to Kansas City and appeared on the local morning TV and radio shows, if you can believe that. The weather in KC isn't exactly cooperating, as it's literally raining on David's parade. Some girl, who is really old enough to know better, openly weeps while he gives her an autograph. Once again: how does a person process that kind of thing? Because I'm not sure I'd be able to help myself from ordering this girl to pull herself together before I sign anything. Autographs are for the stable! Anyway, David stops by his elementary school to surprise his old music teacher with some flowers because, as Jacob said yesterday, he is a jerk. The weather improves some for the official parade through town, and David and Andrew both freak out from time to time. Andrew, it should be noted, got the normal-sized head in the family. And because it's the law, David cries a bit. I really am pretty fond of him, particularly when he gets so psyched about throwing out the first pitch at the Royals game. Anyone who can get that excited about the Royals has to be pretty okay.
Back onstage, Ryan lets Randy clarify his apparently conflicting advice last night (the "rock out!"/"you shouldn't have rocked out!" stuff that came about because Randy's more interested in one-upping Simon than being an actual judge), and Randy explains that he liked the decision to sing Switchfoot, just not the execution. David's Idol Journey is the story of a face in need of some covering up. I don't know. It's like night and day looking at him in his audition and the early rounds, and the only difference I can see is that he put a beard on that face. He also managed to be the only one worth listening to in the entire Top 12, week to week, so there was that. It appears that his entire history on this show has been douchey-looking photo shoots intermingled with adorable-looking unscripted moments where he, like, hugged children and cried and stuff. Ryan takes a shot at his researchers for making him say "Chaka Khan" instead of "Roberta Flack" and then shoves us into the last commercial break.