Apparently Dallas has just been insane in years past, but it all kind of bleeds together to be honest. Dallas gets a bad rap generally: Not as bad as Houston, which is funny because it's much worse than Houston, but not as bad as they always make it seem. There are nice places there. Like any big city with a lot of money in it, you have to find the places. Plus they have the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders, and you know how much Ryan likes that. The best bit is a memory of one time Simon said he wouldn't have chosen this particular song, and Randy grunts, "I wouldn't have chosen any song." I remember when he was a person and not just a collection of noises.
Nobody seems to know who the guest judge is for Day One. Simon thinks it's Richard Simmons, which causes Randy to laugh both achingly and desperately, because he has heard of Richard Simmons. I think Richard Simmons would be a great guest judge. He's funny, has no sense of irony whatsoever, and it's easier to watch him cry than anybody. I mean, wouldn't you rather watch Richard Simmons cry than, say, Claire Danes? Randy suggests Clint Eastwood, and then they do hilarious phone-sex impressions of Clint Eastwood and how he would go after the contestants with a steely hateful snarl. It's epic.
Instead, though, we get Neil Patrick Harris. The most wonderful man in the world. I don't know what to say about him that hasn't been said. He's like the George Clooney of television. You're allowed to love him no matter who you are. He is the original unicorn. If he touches your iPhone you can get bars everywhere you go from that point forward. He says he's into magic tricks but that's only because if he admitted that he was actually magical and could do actual magic, the government would come take him. I predict that even though he has less of a reason to be here than even Avril and Katy, he will also be the best guest judge, because he is the best. I think this is how Ellen will play out also.
There's a whole fun breakdown of past Dallas people -- Kelly Clarkson, that blonde girl that sang the "gitchy-gitchy ya-ya" song in her operatic fashion of yore... And then her ass comes back. Blue eyeshadow, fake eyelashes, and talking randomly crazy in this stilted way and doing random crazy dances. I think she has used the time of the last eight years to become very upsetting. She used to just be a funny weirdo that sang in her own peculiar way, but that seems to have hardened into an exterior shell of that's just how she is now. She's not the first person to be driven legitimately crazy by this venture, but she is one of the most drastic.
NPH tries to be nice at first, but Julie Longlastname (some age, DFW) is so insane that he has no way to avoid getting more and more troubled by it. She carries her poorly lettered This Is My Year sign into the audition room with her, which means Simon immediately puts a pen between his teeth. The only thing Neil can say is a confused and delighted "Sparkle?" Because that's mainly what she is, and what she is doing. Then she sings "Black Velvet" in that same strange way as that day long ago: Like she's explaining Elvis to the forest creatures, or to small British children. Kara's hair looks really pretty which helps make up for her personality. Aw, she's not that bad in this episode to be honest. I like her, pretty much. Neil is everything wonderful, he critiques the kerning on her shitty sign, and tenderly tells her that she's not allowed to sing anymore. When NPH says you can't do something, that's like a law that you're not allowed to do it anymore.
Bad Juju starts crying and then heads into "Somewhere Over The Rainbow," and everybody begs her to stop. "Julie, you're making it worse," Simon says, and kicks her out again. Then "Something To Talk About," which is when they call the security guys in. NPH realizes that it doesn't really matter how you treat them, because they're already annoying and devoted to being annoying. Then she tries to make Ryan listen to her sing, and thinks about how maybe the problem is that she forgot how breathing works.
Montage of many cute ladies winning Golden Tickets, and then a funny giant guy with crazy eyes. I think his name is Big Succexxy and he is a dock worker for an airline, which he hates doing. He says wallet like "whallet" and cries about his usual daughters. Lloyd Thomas (29, Dallas) has good style, and he sings "Overjoyed" quite well, and Neil gazes at him while he sings, and they're all pleased with him. Lloyd and Kara work together to create a narrative about dockworkers, Neil says he's not totally interesting yet, and Simon calls him his favorite audition so far. Randy gives him a billion percent yes, and Kara gives him a hundred percent yes. And because of the way percentages work, Kara's hundred is worth more than Randy's billion. He's the only ticketed male so far, and he talks about how that tastes, which is good, and Ryan says how he is shining, which is like the Lone Star of Texas or something.
Simon and Neil argue over one or several people, the way it's edited you can't really tell, but the point is that Neil likes people and Simon doesn't. Then they fight and it's cute. The person is Kimberly Carver (26, Denton) who is very friendly and sweet, but singing an original song. Also, Denton is a problem we can't get into right now, but it's a problem. She's a big girl in sheer sleeves with overthought eye makeup, and the song is about eyes, and she snaps along with herself. Her voice is delightful and makes Neil dance in his chair a little bit. They love her voice, but Simon says she's boring and old-fashioned, and Neil disagrees with that, giving Randy courage to have like his first thought of all time, and Simon gets snotty, and Neil rolls his eyes, but then Kara joins the mutiny, and finally Neil calls a vote.
I can't imagine anybody taking over for Simon's job like this and not offending me, but Neil's so magical that really he's just holding back. If he wanted he could go out in the bullpen and just pick people based on their inner spirits, but this way Simon gets to feel like relevant and like he's having fun. I also thrive on whoever the editor is that decided this was the week to play up Kara/Katy yesterday and Simon/NPH today. This stuff is just so obviously plucked out of hours and footage and made to look like a real story that actually happened, but it's still pretty fun.
In case you were wondering whether the local media were aware of this show's existence and the auditions last summer: Yes. They knew. Then comes a sort of... Everybody looks familiar! There's a little girl that was on this show once and I liked her. And in the elevator with the wondrously spazzy Dexter Ward (20, Terrell TX) is another young man I recognize. The audition for Dexter is familiar also, in that it is horrible. "If I Ever Fall In Love Again" is the song he purports to be singing, but I'm not sold that that's what's happening. He is very devoted to himself and his passion and his talent, which shows, but he has no talent in actuality.
The whole thing about not letting other people stand in the way of your dreams is an important part of the equation, but it is not the most important part of the equation. Randy starts talking and NPH immediately calls for a vote. I love this, so much, the way he keeps people on task because of how personally fucked up they are. If everybody would just do what Neil says, at all times, we'd all be good citizens. He's like the Joan Holloway of real life.
There's a montage of boring crying people, and then Ryan takes Neil aside so they can have a private meeting about how it's going. Ryan Seacrest! And Neil Patrick Harris! In a little tiny room! Discussing their day! I can't imagine any place more wonderful on Earth. I wish this was a show of its very own. I've never thought of Ryan as a person who tells really terrific, hilarious stories -- in the same way that you wouldn't expect a professional snowboarder to be an interesting conversationalist, or Michael Phelps. That's not what they're for.
What they're for is being very excellent at something, whatever it is: Our skill sets don't need to overlap. It took me a long time to figure that one out: Just because you are good at a particular thing it doesn't mean that people should be judged on that same thing. You just need to be magnificent at something. Find it, and do it. And whatever it is that Ryan's good at, he does it for 26 hours every day. And then you've got NPH, who is not only a thrilling conversationalist but also flies an invisible plane and can force evildoers to tell the truth just by smiling at them and looking them in the eye. And they are both so wee, and so well-dressed. What could make this better? Anderson Cooper? I'm not asking for the moon here but I think he would be a good addition to this mix. Are there any other tiny majestic whippets of the day that I am leaving out?
Though I must admit I got a little nervous when I started thinking about how Neil would deal with Ryan, because he is such a little robot landshark of a person, crunch-crunch-crunching his way through the day, but he does a great job. And take note, because the way that he does this is by behaving both verbally and nonverbally as if Ryan is the most special, valuable person in the universe. Which of course he is, but this is also the secret of Neil Patrick Harris, who is a sun-dappled picnic under an apple tree of a person. Some people need to be treated as if they deserve the world, and I find that generally, those people sort of do -- and anyway, you're not going to get anywhere acting otherwise -- because the best thing that you can hope for in a situation like that, where both parties have presence and are used to getting attention, is by taking turns. At that point, it becomes just as much of a relief to let the other person be On for a while, and the result is a love explosion. You just have to remember that pretending the other person is special is not enough, because that's fake and everybody can see what you're doing: You have to look hard and realize why they are in truth special, and then operate only on that frequency. Very different from being fake.
Anyway, Erica Rhodes (23, Irving TX) is a grad student who was on Barney as a kid, and whose dad pulls his pants up to here. Ryan admires her fingerless gloves, and then she goes in and puts on a whole bondage outfit including stupid strappy boots, and then sings the Barney song in her yucky voice. Simon is grossed out by America, Neil is creeped out by having this song sung to them by a dominatrix. Then she sings "Free Your Mind," snapping her whip and singing like a PCD. She has good pitch, her voice is annoying as fuck, and Simon sort of hates her whole gimmick.
They talk about how every child star -- even a cottage-industry one like Barney -- must one day turn the corner, and NPH who of course knows of what he speaks, is like, sometimes they do grow up "to be dirty little girls." Which sets up a weird triangulation of ideas because she's going from Barney to this ridiculous fake sex-lady thing, whereas NPH went from Doogie to ridiculous fake sex-man Barney. And meanwhile, Ryan Seacrest is like the perfect outcome of a grown-up child star, except he was never a child star, or maybe still is, and somehow that figures into understanding how NPH is looking at Erica right now, Barney to Barney, which is just an echo chamber of words and semiotics that is exactly the sort of reason I can't smoke pot, because it would just keep going around and around like that, and I would be stunned into silence trying to catch the tail of it, and then get very angry about the situation because without words who am I, and then I would fall asleep.
Erica says her idol is Janet Jackson, and Simon admires her ... her something. I don't know what Kara and Simon are talking about, because it gets vague and all "you're just doing your thing" or whatever, that really is just lies to cover the fact that she's hot and doesn't sing horribly enough to discount that. She gets through unanimously, and Barney the dinosaur pops up in the corner of the screen to tell you he loves you, which is the other reason I can't smoke pot: You never know when shit like that will happen.
Screaming people we don't know, and then the last of Day One. Dave Pittman (27, Mountain Home AR) has Tourette's, which makes him twitchy and throat-cleary but not in a way that detracts from his severe Arkansian hotness. He says that it doesn't affect him when he's singing, and then sings "Bring It On Home To Me" by Sam Cook. Kara falls instantly in love with his hot ass and lovely voice, and the rest of the panel is pretty much taken with him. Simon cuts him off pretty early, actually, because he's that good. Neil goes, "Weird elephant in the room: Do you have like Tourette's or something?" It's like he can say any of the shit they say on this show that makes you blush, but the way he says it makes it seem totally reasonable.
What a nice way to end Day One -- along with 14 other tickets -- and between "Party In The USA" and being grateful for a half-hour of NPH, I'm in a good enough mood to be fascinated by the others: Whip Girl, screaming girl, another giant black guy, a mustache, some large number of very young Dallas-looking white people, a girl who falls down in a funny way, and a totally amazing platinum blonde dressed like Baby Jane who I can't wait to meet.
Day Two: Ryan's still wearing a polo shirt, but it's even tighter than yesterday's. Dallas gay is a very specific kind of gay, so specific you probably can't visualize it, but like everything else in Dallas, there is a lot of received wisdom and tradition about exactly who to be and what to look like. It's not even a secret; it's just comforting I think. I love them, but sort of like the people in that movie Avatar loved the alien Na'vi, which is to say with a certain sense of confused wonder. Flat-front khakis are still religion, and that puffy/orange tanning-bed look is happening, and there's no overly processed hair out of place, if there's hair at all. Or, ten years younger, it's the Abercrombie frat boy. They are awesome in the same way that everything in Dallas is awesome, which is always hard to explain.
I don't know if they have these anywhere else in America, but in Dallas that's all there is: Beefy Texas youth ministers, wearing secret 2(x)ist under their clothes and confusing their gender pronouns with alacrity and using grindr to punish their moms and generally acting like fussy miniature purebreds, caught between strong liberal entitlement and strong conservative brunch n' boats mentality. The consumption is conspicuous, which is not something I've encountered anywhere else: Wristwatches slide to the inside of the wrist due to their weight, everything's tasteful in that investment-banker way, the luggage is more beautiful than most automobiles, and they are mean as hell. Mean as hell.
Anyway, that's what Ryan looks like today.
Kara tries to explain who Joe Jonas is, and the show tries to explain who Joe Jonas is, and Joe Jonas tries to explain who Joe Jonas is, but it still doesn't help. If you think you're going to get more insight into the way Joe Jonas works, or what he actually is, keep wishing because he doesn't say a word or move or show evidence of life at any point whatsoever. Just the bangs in the breeze and I have fond thoughts of when Neil Patrick Harris was here. Shockingly, Randy is a wannabe Jonas -- probably in exactly the same way that Avril Lavigne is my secret role model of life -- but I don't know if Joe Jonas is able to recognize that anybody's even talking to him. Anybody else I would say this tells us things about Joe Jonas, but it's Randy so it's a wash.
First up is actor/playwright Todrick Hall (24, Arlington TX), who played in The Color Purple with Fantasia, and who would like to sing a song he wrote that begins "Todrick is my name" and goes on from there. Fake contacts, not great stylistically, but the song is pretty clever -- maybe the most clever original ever sung on this show -- and his voice is practiced and smooth. Joe Jonas stares and tries to figure him out, Simon reluctantly claps for him, and Randy loves him. He's pretty cool. Four yeses and the family going nuts, and then Todrick doing flips in the air.
Dawntoya Thomason (27, Dallas) sings a lovely song about loneliness and gets through, a girl in an ugly dress, some guy that looks like a Castro family member, people we don't even see getting their yes getting yeses, pretty blonde bartender Stephanie Daulong (20, Austin) with some sort of a headband delights Simon very much, and then Maegan Wright (20, Richardson TX) whose parents are remarried and who has a great relationship with her little brother Dawson. They're pretty cute together, the kid dorks out all over the place, and then she sings "To Make You Feel My Love" in fifty Target necklaces and a t-back jersey that says BREAK THE RULES and barely-there white shorts. She's good, and Kara really likes her despite her outfit. Simon likes her terrible look because it's authentic; Kara adores her, and she gets through unanimously as well, and then she and Ryan do an impromptu fakeout with her ticket that causes a lot of high-pitched screaming.
Coming up: A "survivor," which is always a good sign. Ryan makes friends with everybody and takes over doing room service in addition to his fifty other jobs, flirts awkwardly with the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders some more, and then we meet a pretty terrible neon pink outfit named Vanessa Johnston (22, Waxahachie TX), who is so full of joy and life that she breaks a camera with her spastic dancing around. She screams at the judges about the colors pink and teal, and then sings "At Last" with weird aerobic movements and terrible vocalizations. Kara giggles impishly and is pretty adorable, and the song goes on and on and gets worse and worse, and Vanessa's pink makeup crinkles frighteningly, and Simon says she's what his nightmares "look and sound like." She doesn't get through, but sort of awesomely says that at least he's dreaming about her.
A weirdo that looks like Robert Englund's younger spaz brother leads us into a dumb montage of Simon being mean to people. Then Ryan explains why Simon is such a dick, and it's pretty much a great big lovefest about how auditions make you feel evil because people are so fucking stupid. A couple of freaks in black and pink taffeta brought a cosmetology head into the audition. I wish we'd seen that. I wish Disney hadn't removed Joe Jonas's speaking apparatus when they gave him that orchidectomy or whatever it was they do to those kids nowadays.
Christian Spear (16, Houston) got leukemia when she was four, but I suppose she's doing fine now. She's pretty, mature, and well-spoken in a really forthright, likeable, smart way talking about what that was like. She went into remission when she was eight, and her mom is still high on that whole miracle eight years later. She sings an Etta James song in a smooth, pretty and contemporary way that is exactly in Randy's sweet spot, and the others quickly fall in love with her as well. Simon says he likes her a lot, and she goes, "I like you too." It's neat, she goes through, the sweet guitar of triumph plays, and Ryan gets all up in that shit because of how charming she is.
Seventeen tickets for Day Two: A screaming blonde girl, stripy-haired Castro guy, a guy with big gold chains, cute boy in a hat, pretty giant-mouth girl with crazy eyes, a very young dude-bro, a girl with a hat and a complicated style, only one vest this time around, a strange tan girl, a pageant-looking girl, those same people over and over again, a girl in a knit cap, a very pretty tall girl, a hipster chick, and then another knit cap. Wish we cared or knew about them in any way.
Good luck to Tourette's guy and cancer girl, say thank you and goodbye to the negative presence of Joe Jonas and his dumb haircut, and we'll see you week (last week of auditions!) in intense naked Denver with Posh, and then on Wednesday one of those special episodes where we see things we already saw and things we were lucky enough not to have previously seen. Then, though, then, it's two weeks of Hollywood and we have to remember all these bastards and see them break down utterly into madness, at which point our second wind will arrive.
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