Oh man remember last May when Adam Lambert wasn't even gay yet? And remember how Bikini Kill was so gross, and Kris was sooo cute? And remember how there was KISS? (Remember -- on a separate note -- Amanda Overmyer? Jesus.) And then remember how Paula Abdul wandered off in her prom dress and was devoured by wolves and everybody thought that American Idol was over? And remember how of course it wasn't? And remember what it felt like before you knew Simon was leaving us? And now it might be over in actuality?
The guest judges filling Paula's [prescriptions] shoes before they bring it home to Ellen -- I doubt she'll be in Hollywood Round, right? -- are as follows. They're sort of an Apocalypse Horseman scenario, to be honest. Check this shit out: On the evil side, you've got Shania Twain, who writes bleep-bloop instead of songs; Joe Jonas, whom I bet you five dollars is the ugly one; what's left of Posh Spice, which we'll experience tonight; and Katy Perry, who is revolting in ways Gwen Stefani has not even explored yet.
On the side of righteousness we have Mary J., who remains a complete mystery to me; Avril Lavigne, who is of course my spirit animal; Kristin Chenoweth, the patron saint of drama fags everywhere including you and me; and... Notorious NPH. Who just... What is one to say about Neil Patrick Harris? I hope I think of something that's not a sound effect before his hot narrow ass rolls around this way. And then after all that, we'll bring it home to Ellen D. All of which makes me nervous because as you know, No Homo : Jacob :: Racism : Sarah Silverman, and that is ... the biggest bunch of homo I've ever seen in one place. Adam really did change everything.
Oh, before we start, can a British homie help me out with this? Because my understanding is that Pop Star, which is what they called American Idol over there, was the like biggest hit ever... Until Simon left to start X Factor, and then that was the biggest hit ever. So like, Simon's now leaving American Idol to start X Factor over here, so doesn't that mean the cycle is beginning again and our version of X Factor will be the new big hit? Either that, or he's going to track down his fellow mutants in the guise of being a mutant hunter, and then Ryan will leave too because he's always been the Shatterstar to Simon's Julio Esteban Richter, and then I will be left all alone in the wreckage of no Ryan and no Simon and all this fucking singing.
They show a clip of Ellen telling her TV family that she's going to be on the show, and their freakout interacts with her freakout into a big freakout... But not yet. First, other things will happen: A drug-addicted girl trapped in her own life, an autistic kid getting whored out for sympathy votes, a welder, a guy with a Carrot Top, a horrible vintage girl, and dumbass triplets. And Ryan! Look, it's Ryan!
They show a clip of Ellen telling her TV family that she's going to be on the show, and their freakout interacts with her freakout into a big freakout... But not yet. First, other things will happen: A drug-addicted girl trapped in her own life, an autistic kid getting whored out for sympathy votes, a welder, a guy with a Carrot Top, a horrible vintage girl, and dumbass triplets. And Ryan! Look, it's Ryan!
Nine thousand people in the Boston rain, some poor girl saying it's good luck -- just like when you get a free ride, having already paid -- and some girl's butt, and Ryan says Boston is a city of champions and there's a shot of a Red Sox sign, which maybe he's being ironic or maybe they really are champions, I don't know, I don't even know what sport that is, and then some unfortunate gay folks, and then girls screaming that they love Kara (yes, we exist), and people cheering for that unnamed citizen that was once in Journey, and then Simon wandering around the building like Ozzy for a minute.
Oh, and Posh Spice is here. And she looks like a monster. Like a monster you would scare kids with. She looks like Jeepers Creepers and she's wearing a bra on her head as an ornament. She looks like she's been sucked through a straw by Chester the Cheeto Cheetah. But remember the Spice Girls? I sure do. She was my favorite because she was the posh one. You had the gay one with the best voice who eventually became my favorite one, the screaming annoying black one, the fat British-looking one, and then the other one that always made me feel like I was being encouraged to masturbate by Joycelyn Elders.
But now Posh has gone this whole other way the fashion people go, where you're not allowed to think they're horrifying because they have attained some kind of Katie Holmes sliding-face iconography and there's a haze of hotness that completely clouds your judgment of the actual face horror. Like Paris Hilton, can you even really picture what she looks like? No, and that works for her. But the downside is that once you get to that fashion place, the step is being Michelle Obama or Madonna and everybody just talks about your arms all the time.
Anyway, let's meet huge awkward lesbian accountant Janet McNamara (25, Somerville, MA), whose hobbies mainly seem to be rejoicing proudly about her muffin top, bouncing around knocking shit over, and playing the American Idol video game. Which, we will learn, is a goddamn liar. [Indeed it is. It constantly tells me I'm the Kelly Clarkson, which is false. -- Angel] She tells us that at first the game hated her, and imaginary Simon was totally mean, but eventually she learned to fool the imaginary game people into praising her, which backing of the system led her to intense delusion of a whole new order. She's charming, gawky, dangerous to be around, and will clearly be eaten alive.
Janet explains to Ryan that her game-face involves jumping up and down (more) in the bathroom, while shouting at herself about how awesome she is. You know what's awesome? Ryan Seacrest dressed up like a wee cowboy. But then you know what's not awesome? Listening to Janet murder "Pocketful Of Sunshine" while dancing around like a freak and forgetting all the words. The notes are so sharp and nasal she sounds like she's taunting children in the playground. The moves get more and more intense as she realizes she's losing them, and finally they stop her so she can call Kara "Paula" sixty times, refer to Posh as "David Beckham's wife," and then run headlong into the arms of her beautiful lipstick lover, give Ryan a firm handshake that ends up smashing said girlfriend right in the face, and then... Off to believe in herself some more, I should imagine.
Well, honestly I'm not even sure she meant it. Who means it is Maddy Curtis (16, Bluemont, VA), the ninth of twelve, whose older brother has Downs and whose two younger brothers also have Downs and were adopted, I gather, in order to keep the other one company. Not so sure about that reasoning, but Maddy herself is delightful. Just pretty and fresh and full of constant emotions and inspirational tidbits and sixteen-year-old tears about how her brothers "see the world in colors." She sings "Hallelujah" with a very mannered pronunciation to start, but once she gets into the high part it's pretty much nervous-perfect. The judges are blown away by how awesome she is, and Simon congratulates her on not being annoying, and she is incredibly pleasant for a very long time. Outside, her whole family goes nuts with balloon animals as she continues to thank everybody in the whole entire world; inside, Kara talks about her energy and Posh gives a scary skeleton smile in response. Everybody in the bullpen is excited about her except this one incredibly hot, incredibly hateful sex offender guy that we'll get to. He's something of a recurring theme.
Slight young Patrick Ford (17, Derry, NH) has some things figured out, but other things he has not yet figured out. Let's put it that way. He loves dancing around, spazzing out, and yelling "Holla!" He is pretty much unbearable doing these things. But he's also very charming in another way. He has complete immunity to the fact that he makes everyone around him very angry, including me myself -- not to mention serial killer guy, off whom my eyes I cannot take -- which makes him sort of wonderful. I mean, I want to murder him with my two fists of fury, but the idea of him is pretty cool. So he sings "Womanizer" in this awful nasal drag queen voice, which earns him hilarious "you go girl" type sentiments from Kara before he gets into calling Simon "sassy" like a million times. Posh realizes that Pat's crushing on Simon, as everyone should, and then finally they throw his weird ass out, calling him a "great hang" but someone who should never, ever sing again. He leaves singing. It's embarrassing.
Three ladies. Jennifer Hirsch of Manhattan NY is a receptionist with huge breasts and an unfortunate love of scatting. Kara calls her a tiger and she gets through. Claire Fuller (23, Philly) also has giant breasts and sings Mr. Big's "To Be With You," which is pretty much all I needed to hear; Posh loves that too. Booking agent Jess Wolfe (24, Brooklyn) is cute and has a really good, put-together look. Two things she loves a little bit too much are 1) accessorizing and 2) trying -- but not enough on either hand that it's a problem. I like her, they let her sing forever, and finally the ladies go through.
There's a loud, huge bartender who makes Ryan a bit nervous named Amadeo Diricco (28, Johnston, RI). He's from a huge Italian family and there's this whole obnoxious hospitaliano sequence about them where they eat food and offer each other mozzarella and drink wine out of plastic cups and say "youse" and all that. I'm sure he's very nice. He's certainly quite big. I guess it's the egregious "moon hits your eye like a big-a pizza pie" racist music that makes me think none of this is authentic.
Well, maybe it's like Cojocaru and after Jersey Shore you can't even insult Italian-Americans anymore. Simon is tickled by Amadeo's choice of song (Muddy Waters' "Hoochy-Coochy Man") but then it's totally awesome. And by that I mean it's totally fucking annoying in that Taylor Hicks way, but his voice is clearly amazing and that's what matters. They all love him, Posh tips back her head and eats an entire guinea pig, Amadeo giggles and acts adorable and sweet, and they put him through.
"Return To Innocence" plays over the entrance of our victim, the "very spiritual" landscaper Derek Hilton (19, Bellingham, MA), who has so very many plusses on his side: Huge James Franco smile, good bone structure, long blonde locks that he sort of flips around like Farrah Fawcett when he's nervous, big old sexy body... And a terrible, terrible voice and sort of gross dumb personality and talking about walking the earth and feeling spiritual and whatever, and maybe the worst skin on Earth. But he's just a kid, he'll work those things out. Derek's girlfriend, if you are out there: I know that there is pain, but you hold on for one more day and you'll break free from the pain. Because he is a keeper, I swear to you. One day he will stop smoking pot and rediscover other people, and you're going to want to be there when that happens. I would give him four years. 23 is more than enough time to cut all of this shit out.
So there's a dumb thing where he blows on a flower in his palm and it falls limply to the ground instead of I guess lofting into the air like everything is magical, and then he talks about how he spent the last two years "gragitating" to music, and finally he walks in talking about how he loves both the Eagles and Chris Brown, the latter because of "how he touches kids all around this world," which I'm going to give a pass because: When was this filmed exactly. Posh and Kara don't act like there's anything wrong with that statement, so who knows. Then he touches "Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word" exactly like Chris Brown would.
...Yeah, too far. Anyway, it's all through the nose, he sounds ridiculous and gross, he's a whole mess of trouble. But his hair is so luxurious! (That's literally what my notes say.) The Judgery are embarrassed for him as he sings in more and more voices, all of which are tragic. Simon says there are twenty Dereks in there, and every one of them is horrible. Then Derek tells us how he actually did everything right, including hitting "really loud notes," and that he's pretty sure he's "amazing" and could have "touched America in a totally different way." Then he takes off his shirt to go mourn and walk the earth.
Sad girl with cheeks and a yellow jacket. Sad cute girl named Melissa. Sad cute boy with a red bracelet and a crying mom. Sad adorable girl crying. Lots of people crying: A weird girl, a big forehead girl, and then one lonely girl standing in the rain with no umbrella. Even from ten feet away you can tell she's fucking annoying, with faded pink stripes in her hair and some kind of weird cosplay outfit she's pretending is clothing, and then up close you can actually see just how horrible she is as she describes herself as an otaku, which... Explains all of it. Every single thing.
Mere Doyle (24, Walpole, MA) toils in retail while embroiled in dreams of Japanese animation and making her own kimonos and dorkwear. She flounces around looking like a complete dick until Ryan calls her a "fashionista," and then she explains to us that ideally, she would like to be a pop star in Japan. Which, again, tells you where this poor girl's at, which is: Everything on the entire checklist, she's in. She has thrown herself into that shit abyss with her eyes open. Things You Can Tell Just By Looking At Her isn't just a Holly Hunter movie.
Mere's been to hundreds of auditions, you see, and always throws herself into it as though her life depended on it -- because in a very real way, apparently, it does. Ryan finally sends her obnoxious ass in to bother the judges, and she screams Janis at them for a million years and they tell her how awful she is, and she tells him not to talk that shit to her -- "with all due respect," one of the Five Phrases that will get you slapped in this house -- and it goes on forever and ever. She's got vocal coaches lying to her, she's got family members lying to her, the whole thing. She's really not getting it, like to the point where it's painful to watch her getting beat down by the cognitive dissonance of her objective shittiness v. her high opinion of herself, and then she goes out screaming into the street about how they are fuckers and she is a special unique talented individual.
This is what Free To Be You & Me did to my entire generation. This is exactly what I am talking about.
A trio of man-hotties harmonize on guitars outside, and then I think all three of them get through: Chiefest Hottie Luke Shaffer (24, NYC) is a waiter in a knit boonie singing some song about how he won't live to sing another day, which is annoying, but his voice is great and Kara and Posh both wiggle around on their chairs. Big old Benjamin Bright (25, Rome NY) is an elementary music teacher who sings "All My Loving" very sweetly. I don't know about the third one but I think we see him later. Right now, Luke and Ben are being adorable with their golden tickets, which is very fun to watch if you like the person. Or even if you don't, unless you honestly have a moral problem with the kind of person they are, like Gokey or Megan Joy. Or that Jackie Tohn girl.
Okay, here we go. Whew. Okay. I'm a little nervous now that it's happening. Okay, it's 6 PM on Day One, and they're finally ready for the guy of the night. His glasses are like a sex offender wears, I don't know how else to say it. They are huge and bulky and cheap and scary. Not like he reminds me of a sex offender -- nothing like that; maybe like Columbine, but not that -- but that when you look up sex murders on the internet or get the sex offender notification postcard mailed to your home, these are the glasses they are invariably wearing: Andrew Fenlon (25, Boston) is an unemployed musician with everything in its right place. So basically he's like Superman, if Clark Kent were a sex offender. Like, why would Superman masquerade as a sex offender I don't know, but that's the visual. Oh, and he's a total dickhole. That part's important.
So at 1000 hours he was bitching and tired of waiting, and at some point told the interviewers that they were salting his game with their constant interest in his state of mind -- which state is clearly halfway to batshit, which is why they keep bothering him -- and then at 1345 hours he was moaning in pain, and by 1530 he was just openly flipping off the camera.
And that, Reader, is the precise moment that I fell right in love with him. A forever love. An Adam Pratt, Nadia Turner, Brooke White, Blake Lewis kind of love. I can't explain it, the heart wants what it wants. There's something about that mix of massive ADD, complete lack of self-control, major entitlement and general all-around Ayn Rand dickishness that just... What can I say? It is catnip to me. Always has been. A psychic once told me, this is not a lie, that I was Eva Braun in another life. I can accept that.
So Ryan's like, "Are you single? Married? Kids?" And Andrew goes from monotone to baritone to screaming at him about how he's totally single and totally alone and we should all just deal with that. His loneliness. With which we are all about to deal. Ryan, desperate to get away from him and his horrible ways, tries to be cool but nearly loses it. Will nobody feel the magnetism of this guy with me? He stalls with Ryan for a long time, clearly just shudderingly nervous, and finally hots himself right on in there.
They are very happy to see him in there, because he is hot and they don't know about his monstrous personality yet. Simon asks for the "why are you here" soundbite and Andrew cuts hateful eyes and tells him that it is fairly obvious why he is there, although it is less obvious why he had to wait all goddamn day. Simon gets right up in there, warming to the cause, about how Andrew knows goddamn well why he asked the question, and -- after Andrew tells him it wasn't even an interesting question to begin with -- to stop being a cocksucker, and Posh's jaw drops, and finally Simon tells him to drop the jackassery or leave.
He apologizes, almost sincerely, and offers to sing "House Of The Rising Sun," and offhand asks if Simon's familiar with the song. Everybody gets super mad that he's still dicking around, and he apologizes again. I can't... He is such an enigma. I don't think he means to actually make them angry. I think he honestly thinks he's ... I have no idea what he's doing, but he's doing it on purpose which means he has a plan. An agenda. And whatever it is, the desired effect is not what he's manifesting. He takes off the glasses and sings the song -- poorly -- and they laugh at him, but honestly you can't dig out from under that asshattedness no matter what anyway. So finally Kara's like, "Andrew. Are you angry?" He says he is, from waiting all day, so she calls him an asshole -- which again, he doesn't get why -- and so she explains that, as a hopeful musician, it is beyond shitty of him for say he doesn't want to wait around all day when there are people who wait years.
Which is true, and I'm not making excuses because he's just awful, but I can see where those are two different things, inside that clueless Andrew bubble where he lives. It's possible to be grateful for the opportunity or whatever and still find the whole process painful. In fact, nobody there including the judges is actively enjoying themselves at this point. You just don't say it. I think it's a profound social problem, not that he's an active agent of evil. Kara disagrees, and informs him how offensive that was without connecting the dots for him, which just leaves him more confused about how those things are connected and what he shouldn't have said, which pisses her off more because she thinks he's being inauthentic, when what he's being is clueless. Which honestly is just as bad, and I get that, as I said: He's the worst. But the ways and means by which he arrives at being the worst are more complicated than they appear, and Kara's not helping.
Andrew asks the Judgery at large why they're being so mean to him, and they list every horrible thing he's done in the last five minutes, and Simon calls him "sulky and rude" and "very aggressive" and says he has "bad energy" (all of which is true, but more a function of his altered affect than any malice on his part) and Posh points out that he can't even sing so it doesn't matter (which is both true and awesome of her) and finally Andrew is just really confused and sad about everything and suddenly starts backtracking and eating shit about how he was trying to appear confident -- which I mean, it's blindingly clear that he's been terrified this whole time, but I'm glad he at least figured that much out to say -- but you still shouldn't get excuses for that. Rational people know what rational people do. You can trust your instincts on not acting like a douchebag, usually. It's trying to act like too many people at once that gets you into trouble. Whatever, Kara yells at him an amazing speech ending with, "...So I am now angry at you. Who I don't like. At all."
He shivers and asks why they're doing this to him, and basically begs them to walk him through it, and it's just... Toward the end I think they're willing to give him the benefit of the doubt and maybe his brain just shit the bed, but I don't know. He calls them "vicious." And yeah, we just went from one drama to another drama, both of which you stage-directed, both of which are all about you: That's the worst thing imaginable. But what's just skin-crawling about the whole thing is watching it all go down, because they are never going to get it -- and are under no compunction to do so -- and he's just conscious enough of social cues to realize how bad he fucked up, but not how to turn it around. And either way he can't sing, so it doesn't matter, and now he knows that too. I want to be there to explain things like this to him in advance. Or maybe just follow him, and track his movements in a diary. Or bake him things and leave them anonymously with little notes about how he's doing so great. I admit to you that I have not really come up with a coherent plan yet.
So Kara gets into that weird sexual space she goes sometimes when she can't handle things and starts talking about how he's very naughty and needs a spanking, so Simon snaps her out of that right away, which makes her tell him to shut up a bunch of times for no reason and then yell at Andrew about how he's never had a girlfriend, and finally he literally flees the scene because she's getting so scary, and I think maybe he falls in love with her a little bit. Or maybe that's how he looks before he kills you. Kara continues bitching about him after he's gone, and Ryan is like, "So you and Kara really connected," and inside she's all about how now she needs to take a shower to get his weirdness off him, and Posh hated him too, but... Best audition ever? Probably. I ♥ him.
...Man, I had to go smoke a cigarette after that dickhead and I still haven't quite simmered down. I am telling you, he's the one. Some people wait a lifetime. This isn't one of those deals like Jay always says about how if there's mental illness or a married disgruntled postal worker in a five-mile radius Jacob's going to end up hooking up with him, no: This one's different. There's a good citizen in there, I can tell. I can change him. I just know it!
Lots of likeable people, then: Bill Bloom (25, Marlboro, MA), a music teacher with a screechy voice and an eerie similarity to Maggie Gyllenhaal; and then the freaking charming Michael Ryan (18, Braintree, MA) who goes terribly nuts on "Freedom 90" with the falsetto and a big finish and the most adorable giant face. Love that guy. Then comes the big thing, Berkeley's Ashley Rodriguez (21, Boston), who was... Made for this show. Like in one of those secret Chinese labs where they grow people, she came from there just to be on this show. And I think she knows that. She is humble and sweet, talking about how the music comes from a "special place" and all that. She goes nuts all over "If I Ain't Got You" and Kara falls totally in love with her, singing along quietly like Oprah does, the whole bit. Then they all fall over each other about how she's the best of the day, and tell her how pretty she is and how much they like her look and how commercial she is and about a million other ways of saying she's pretty. Simon says she has It, probably, and they reprise about how pretty and awesome she is some more. Her hair is very shiny. That's the key.
Meet the crazy face of Tyler Grady (19, Nazareth, PA), who is crazy hot and has lots of curly hair and looks very much like this one actor from the '80s that I can't remember and it's killing me. I don't even know how I would look him up. We'll revisit this later. So Tyler's thing is that he fell out of a tree so very well that he broke both wrists and has like four screws in each of them, which is intense anyway but also more so because he is a drummer. He goes in there with his shiny shirt and perfect jeans and sings "Let's Get It On" in an admirable fashion, and does this whole rockstar thing and it's very awesome. The ladies are down, Posh picks some scabs, Simon's into him a whole lot, and then he gets all amazing outside about how Simon liking him was the best part. I don't know, he seems pretty young, like the kind that flame out in Hollywood, but we'll see. High hopes.
So that's 18 total for Day One, including a guy with a kid, a frat guy, a stoner with many friends, a pretty girl named Sonja, a girl with a phone, the boob scatter from before, and a girl whose hot BF is supportive and may or may not be auditioning tomorrow, I'm not sure. Randy actually cracks a funny joke on the morning of Day Two that they're running late because Simon had to wander Boston trying to figure out what went down at the Tea Party. Then Ryan tells us the entire history of America. No, I'm not kidding, and no, we're not doing that. Bleep-bloop.
Day Two. Waitress Lisa Olivero (24, Billerica, MA) loves things like having fun and the spiritual experience of singing music. She's self-taught, mostly enjoys Xtina and Mariah, and would like to have people wait on her instead of waiting on them. Gross. Also, her face is mean-looking -- which is what we're saying now instead of "slutty" because it's classier -- and she has huge breasts, an ass powerful enough to astound the entire Judgery, and a mistaken belief that TIGHTS are PANTS. The second she walks in, Posh is like, "And Simon's going to like you." Heh. She informs them that she's better than basically everyone that's ever been on the show, rips "Vision Of Love" a new one, and promptly gets thrown the hell out of there. Moments later, her ass follows.
Ryan Keane looks like an inbred albino without a dental plan, and sings "Ring Of Fire" like he's just had surgery, although to be fair he's got a great body; then there's some William Hung type of racism we're not doing and Simon isn't happy about; then a weirdo vintage girl that writes her own songs, which: Automatic no; a woman who explains that she is not normal; a man dressed like the king he feels he is within; an obnoxious girl who yells the word "firefighter" a hundred times in her gross Boston accent so nobody can understand her; and finally there's Mike Davis.
Giant Mike Davis (18, Boston) has the accent and is an "actor" (I do not know what that means and we are given no clues as to what that means) on the speedboat they call Codzilla, which has teeth painted on it. Then, because it's all he's got, he tells us about the speedboat they call Codzilla for one million actual earth years. It goes 50 mph, that's a thing I didn't know that I know now about the speedboat Codzilla. Can you imagine being on a date with this guy and he's telling you about this fucking boat?
Anyway, Mike Davis is a stylist's triumph waiting to happen. He sings "Yesterday" quite well, is totally charming, and pretty attractive -- but you got the gelled hair and the tragic Fred Durst chin-beard to deal with, so maybe that's not immediately apparent. Simon says he's confident without being obnoxious, and Kara calls him a good hang, and then everybody yells at everybody else for no reason other than Kara's bored and wants to fight with Simon, who finally wanders away and Randy quickly wanders away too because God forbid Randy ever do anything on his own, and outside Ryan's talking to Mike's admittedly amazing family, and he comes out so happy -- sort of touched me a little, to be honest -- and talking about how he's going to date Kara, which Ryan says they better talk first, which cracked me up.
up is lovely Katie Stevens (16, Middlebury, CT) who comes from a big Portuguese family presided over by her cute grandmother, with whom Katie is quite close. So Katie's drama is that grandma's got Alzheimer's and isn't going to be around for much longer, so she wants to have as much fun and do as many great things for her grandma's delight as she can before it's over and she doesn't remember her anymore, and it's fucking hardcore. I can't really go there. So they spend a lot of time on sweet interacting with grandma, playing the piano for her and singing and stuff, and then she cries some more, but in her audition she sings "At Last" and it's totally gorgeous. Like, to the point that Simon does that thing he does where he acts chiller than he actually feels so nobody will call him out for having the wrong favorite later. The family goes nuts outside, of course, but Ryan keeps from crying valiantly until he gets her to call grandma, and then grandma's crying on the phone and mom's over here weeping -- can't handle that at all, that's the worst bit -- and finally Ryan starts crying. Oh, Ryan. You did good.
Joshua Blaylock (28, NYC) is Biz Dev and because he's 28 this is his last shot. I guess he's tried out before. He sings "God Bless The Broken Road" in a completely uninteresting, sweet little voice. He's one of those guys you can't believe he's 28, just everything about him is soft and sweet and young, down to his voice and his crazy huge anime eyeballs. He's like the Pokémon form of David Archuleta, this kid. The Archuletrox.
Posh says he's got a "nice little voice" and Simon points out that it was fine if you were 14, but totally boring and unoriginal. They fight about it for a bit and Posh fights for him, and they all get into this sort of adorable camp-counselor thing where they get the younger less-cool kid and circle around him and make him say different things "aggressively" -- "Shut up, Simon!" becomes "Shut up, please, Simon!" -- in the most indulgently affectionate way. They're really... It's like a commercial for Big Brothers/Big Sisters of America. Only he's 28.
That literally goes on for ten minutes, them making him say adorable things and telling him how cute he is, and the whole time he's being amazing and cute and thanking them for being alive and whatever, and it's just about the best. What a day Joshua has... Well, no. Probably every day is like that for old Joshua. Probably if he were about to be mugged the muggers would suddenly stop and be like, "Oh my God, you are so fucking cute I can't stand it. Show us your unicorn."
Ryan clambers up onto the rafters with the help of a booster stool to show us what the stage looks like from way up high. It looks ... like you think it looks. Maybe he's just not used to being that high up, because he acts like just being in that scary area is why people freak out. Ah, it's the intro to people freaking out. Look at me trying to make sense of things. Look at me, pretending this recap of American Idol is ever going to end.
Okay so there's something in my notes called "mean blonde Boston BF," which I don't know what that means, but he or she freezes up. Then a super dorky fatbeard with long hair has a stroke, whatever. Then a skinny cowboy sounds cretinous. Then the poor racism William Hung guy from before sings "All By Myself," which is low even for Auditions, then everybody is disappointed for a while, not really in themselves -- like they should be -- but more like isn't it just their darn luck that they're creepy and untalented today. Of all days.
Seven years ago, the very Mormon and very dreamy Justin Williams (27, Sandy, UT) got cancer on his mission, but now it's gone. He's a vocal coach, and rocks the heck out of that one song about feeling good and how it's a new dawn and a new day. His voice is fantastic, crazy range, like where he started out in a certain area but is now getting cuter by the second, and Simon's sucking on a pen and fluttering his eyelids. Finally it's over, and fucking Randy keeps trying to box him into being a "crooner" even though that's not what's happening, but Justin's nice so he goes with it after a certain number of failed attempts to get Randy off that track in his mind, and they all say how he's the best. Simon actually is just crushing on him. It's a love supreme. Four yeses.
Man, it is just straight up studs this year. Are you noticing this? I'm not like in Pon farr or something, it's all giant hot guys and boobs everywhere you look? Back me up here. So Posh is just viciously gross looking for a second, and she's been making everybody cry, and went so far as to inform someone that retail was the right path for them, which is powerfully cool. Then comes a terrible werewolf gayface eyebrow monster with bad facial hair and gender issues who sings "Everytime" by Cascada, which song is already like if you turned homosexuality gay, and he's got this shiny vest, and I don't want to say his name because I don't want him to Google himself and find that I have nothing good to say about him ... at all ... but there is something very wrong here.
Like wrong, like the angles don't fit, in time and space. It's like the Bearded Lady at the circus, or... You know what it is, it's reminding me of the witch Vincent Gallo played in Freeway 2: Confessions Of A Trickbaby: Very, very wrong. Too much happening. Everywhere. Too much things. Hair sprayed -- sprayed -- into a waterfall cascade of such majesty it would have the entire cast of Dynasty weeping into their shoulder pads. Facial hair with its own powerful wrongness. And a voice like an eerie baby on the ceiling.
...I can't do it. It's bad, bad juju. I am all about gender rights and doing whatever comes naturally to you, but I cannot even use my powers of imagination to get where this would feel natural, much less how you're supposed to take all ... that ... and negotiate a place for it in our uncaring world. Kid's got his whole look on lockdown. This didn't just come together, do you see what I'm saying? Every single aspect of this kid's appearance was predetermined, shop-tested and declared street legal. Looked in the mirror, took in the six-inch bangs and flowing tresses and the Michael Jackson jacket and the Frida Kahlo Surprise up there, and the accessories and the shiny vest and the chinbeard and what I think is rouge, and said:
"Stop fucking around with it, you're only going to mess it up. This is the absolute best you're going to look today. Now get out there and fight, Tiger."
Posh excuses him for forgetting the lyrics, as apparently that's something that often happens when you're a total professional musician like her, and the kid says he wants to inspire people like MJ did him. You have done so, sir. Every feeling MJ ever inspired in me is rocketing up my gullet as we speak. Simon's just mindblown by the whole thing: Singing like a three-year-old girl while dressed as LaToya Jackson, and how you can make even that seem extra weird just by adding a beard. Which is true. The kid takes his unanimous no fairly well, which I guess having his sort of inwardly focused strength of character and a general immunity to people running from you and screaming, or even just offering useful advice, probably this show is not going to rock your world that much. You have a crazy costume that like protects you.
Bosa Mora (22, Columbus, OH) is from a huge awesome Nigerian family, and his occupation is listed as "college grad," which means he could probably use a break, you know? His parents met in the States, where they were both in school. That's pretty awesome. Mom wears a huge headscarf and is generally very lovely and loving. I am all about the Mora family. Ryan kids around with them, and then Bosa goes inside talking about the shining light and music and soul that he offers, which is an iffy start, and then sings... "So Good In Love"! AWESOME! That song rocks, it's in that narrow area of country I can handle. Especially courtesy my buddy Bosa, who sings it like heaven.
Oh, shit. This is going the be the biggest fucking Michael Jackson wankfest of a year, isn't it. Michael Jackson week, I'm calling in Joe. I can't fucking do that shit at all.
That just occurred to me, because of the wolf boy earlier. So the ladies shake their heads in wonderment at Bosa, Simon takes a bit longer to convince because Bosa's not the hottest guy we've seen today though his voice is undeniably great, and finally says that it was sort of boring. Bosa offers to "spice it up," and Simon tells him he should have done that in the first place, which sort of sucks of him, and Posh has the balls to yell at Simon about being a jerk, so then Simon fucks with her for a long, long while, and Kara finally has to break them up by getting back to the awesomeness of Bosa, and then to be a jerk Simon gives a no, but the other three give him a yes!
Eventually, after Randy's done dicking him around because he's desperate for attention. Outside, his awesome family goes crazy all over the place, which is really fun until the weird racist Lion King music starts, and then I don't know any more. It's hospitaliano all over again. I mean, they're wearing all kinds of garb and they are all very excited, so maybe it's the secret racist inside of me that's connecting the dots and saying the show is being a jerk. But the show is so often a jerk, and I don't really think I have a racist inside me to any measurable degree, that I... Oh, hell. I guess that's okay. I just don't know anymore. I love Bosa.
Owl City plays as we remember the touching stories and all the hot people and how all of them are going to Hollywood, and then finally the last Golden Ticket goes to Leah Laurenti (22, Medford, NY), who is adorable in a Gina Gershon kind of way and wears terrible earrings. And her interesting story is that she is from a wicked religious family that is not into secular music, so maybe she is going to hell or maybe this is what God wants her to do, because if something feels so good and natural then how could it possibly be bad?
I mean, bless.
That's exactly how I made my peace with Ke$ha, back in December. Also Andrew Fenlon, back about ten pages ago. Don't ask questions, just go with it. You only have one life. Why not live it?
So Leah cries, I guess about how maybe her calling will also be her damnation, and then sings a "Blue Skies" song I don't really know, and her voice is amazing, and it goes on and on, and when she's done they're so nice to her she about dies. She's so nervous about actually hoping, it's heartbreaking. Kara is totally moved and makes a point of underscoring that she actually is that good, like, they're not being nice: When they say she's the best person in Boston, that's not hyperbole. You can see her wrap her head around that and it feels good. Leah's giant hot boyfriend is very excited for her and they hug and cry, and while the Judgery continue to talk about how amazing she is, she calls her parents and they say they're proud of her. "Of course."
They got me. Dang. 30 total got through on Day Two, including Antoine who is very nervous and huge and emotional and wonderful, an annoying overbite girl, a stripey girl who is bad news, a young child wearing a dress over pants, the hot Mormon, an awesome freaky acrobat who maybe can fly, Antoine doing insane tricks, that guy Joshua, and a nasty girl.
Tomorrow: The ATL. And then... A whole month of this. Are you ready?