You know, one thing I miss least about recapping The Amazing Race when it's not on is sitting around on Sunday nights waiting an hour or more for a late-running football game to end already. Sometimes the term "professional sports" is misnomer.
We start (an hour late, in case I hadn't mentioned) with dramatic white titles on a black screen, over shots of a docked aircraft carrier. "Somewhere near the Pacific Ocean [could you vague that up a little, subtitles? Because that's about half the planet], 10,000 hopefuls arrive with a dream to change their lives...forever. What they don't know is, this audition is unlike any other." It's being aired at 11 PM on a Sunday? No, the subtitles are referring to the fact that it'll be held on the USS Midway, the aforementioned aircraft carrier docked in San Diego. Ryan welcomes us to American Idol, with the judges standing spread out behind him on the flight deck. Random fact: when landing on an aircraft carrier, pilots must aim their planes at a big light on the flight deck called a "meatball." But normally there's only one of them.
Even the judges seem confused about what they're doing here today. As the obligatory "Danger Zone" by Kenny Loggins plays, the judges and Ryan get their own Top Gun-style call signs flashed up on the screen: Steven is "Rock Star," Randy is "Dawg," Jennifer is "Fly Girl," and, Ryan of course gets the perfect call sign for evoking his unique characteristics: "Ryan." The audition room, complete with the ovals and judges table and all the hall-of-fame stand-ups, is set up in a small open hangar with the door open, so we can see a parked fighter jet immediately behind the judges' table. Alas (or fortunately, as the case may be), the door also allows in a great deal of noise from jets coming in and out of San Diego International Airport, just two miles away. But who cares? That fighter jet looks cool. Look is way more important than sound, after all.
The first person we meet in San Diego is Jennifer Dilley, an ethnically ambiguous chick in denim short-short-shorts and a red-and-white-striped bikini top. That's a very American look. If she just had stars on her ass she'd look like Slutty Wonder Woman. Ryan makes her walk up the stairs to the audition room twice, just to make sure the camera caught every nuance of her butt-cheeks yearning to breathe free and coming awfully close to succeeding. She presents herself in front of the judges like the trade show booth babe she's dressed herself as and makes exactly the impression she was planning to. She sings about four lines of a song in a pretty weak voice, because if she had a voice, she probably would have worn clothes. She asks the unimpressed judges for another chance, and Randy will only let her go ahead and sing "Hero" with the understanding in advance that the judges don't have to say anything after her second song if it isn't any better. She does, and they don't. Sure, now it's quiet out in the harbor. From here, Jennifer is presumably headed somewhere to put some clothes on.
Okay, this whole "adorkable" thing has clearly jumped the shark, because there's one of them on American Idol now. Ali Shields, who has already been on TV before, after writing a song for Ellen DeGeneres and appearing on her show. Ellen even sent her to the American Music Awards to work the red carpet, where apparently the highlight was getting what was allegedly one of the first kisses in her entire life from Usher (although Mike Posner actually came in under the wire). So the obvious step in this career path is here. She even shows up in the same outfit she wore on Ellen, like people will recognize her that way. She starts off goofy, doing rapping and "ghetto dancing." Then she sings for real, and although her Colbie Caillat/Edie Brickell voice doesn't really work for me, the judges like her enough to send her to Hollywood. There are more kisses in her future, I think. She's still a dork.
We come back to Day 2, and Steven tells us as he arrives, "I can't wait to hear forty people sing the same Adele song for six ___ hours." So jaded in only his second year. We meet Kyle Crews, the love child of Jesse Eisenberg and Jonah Hill, who's apparently an actual BMOC at UC-Berkeley. Up in the audition room, he sings "Angel of Mine" by Monica to pretty much just Jennifer. He can actually sing, and not only does Jennifer get into it, Steven tells him he has the best male voice they've heard yet. They start talking all excitedly about him like he's already won, which of course reminds them to tell him, "work on the look." Well, he should probably be doing that anyway.
Ryan quietly introduces us to Joanne Childers, who is in the middle of an intimate performance of that Ingrid Michaelson song when suddenly a ship's horn blasts from what sounds like immediately outside the hangar door. Other contestants are drowned out by similar noises in a montage of loud distractions, including airplanes and firing cannons. The good news, as Ryan points out and the editors demonstrate, is that these noises can be handy for auto-censoring Steven, as we see in a whole long overwrought clip package that ends with him farting as he climbs out of the fighter plane that's been parked behind them. That's not the Danger Zone Kenny Loggins was singing about, but you wouldn't get me in that one either.
The person we meet is shown singing on a home video being shot by her dad, who then turns the camera toward himself to reveal the face of...Jim Carrey! So there's that whole story about Jane Carrey not wanting people to think any success she'll have will be because of her father. She shouldn't worry, because I'm not sure she'll get very much. She comes out to the oval, and Randy recognizes her right away, asking if her dad knows she's there. Jennifer's instantly all alert at the possibility that something's going on that she's not in on, so she demands to know who they're talking about. Jane explains that Jim Carrey's her dad. Which of course means that Jennifer's met her before, although Jane was two at the time and Jennifer was a Fly Girl so they both looked totally different then. Anyway, Jane Carrey sings "Something to Talk About" in a decent voice, but is not a standout in any way. The judges give her some very reserved praise and then unanimously vote her through to Hollywood anyway like they haven't seen the numbers from Mr. Popper's Penguins She goes back out to meet her family, although her dad's not there and has to get the news over the phone. "Yaaaay!" we hear Jim Carrey say, along with lots of other sincerely kind, supportive things that are neither remotely funny nor trying to be. It's probably just as well nobody told him they were on camera.
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There's apparently a whole run of other girls who get through without our ever hearing them sing, but they all seem very good at jumping up and down and screaming. Which are somewhat related skills, I suppose.
The second day of auditions is coming to a close, and Ryan's talking to a giant bearded tattooed rockabilly mechanic named Wolf, nee Jason Hamline. He's a golf course mechanic who brought a "git-fiddle" (that's a thing that normal people call a guitar) built by his late father. Wolf tells Ryan that all the girls he knows told him to give Ryan a kiss, which of course immediately seems to turn Ryan's not-at-all-gay sweater into some different, much itchier material. Wolf and his git-fiddle appear in front of the judges, where he briefly tells his story and sings "Midnight Special." While he sings, he's playing the guitar like Bono, which is to say not at all. Steven wants to hear something else, so cue the git-fiddle, which Wolf plays as he growls out "Folsom Prison Blues," although he raises his voice on the second verse. That's enough to earn him three yeses. "Werewolves in Hollywood!" Wolf crows. His celebration nearly sinks the ship, or at least nearly breaks the backdrop of the post-audition Spot Of Triumph. Wolf even kisses Ryan on the cheek, because a giant, bearded, tattooed, rockabilly mechanic can afford that more than Ryan can. Ryan recovers enough to tell us that 53 people from the San Diego auditions are going to Hollywood, and they all seem pretty happy about it. Wednesday: Aspen auditions, and then Touch, which I'm also weecapping. I'm just hoping for no football.
M. Giant is a Minneapolis-based writer with a wife, a son, and a number of cats that seems to have settled at around two. Learn waaaay too much about him at Velcrometer, follow him on Twitter, or just e-mail him at m.giant[at]gmail.com.
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