There's a woman on speakerphone with a gaggle of sisters, excitedly waiting for someone to come out of the audition room so everyone can hear the moment when she breaks the news that she made it! The contestant comes out, and everyone screams, but of course she didn't make it. Sad tuba. And from there we go right to the opening titles, complete with the new shot of last year's winner Phillip Phillips. Which is almost as impressive as the fact that we've been actually hearing "Home" in the wild over the past several months.
The judges show up for Chicago auditions, which are apparently being held at the Adler Planetarium. We start off with a young blonde chick who is the first to traverse the blue-lit birth canal that serves as the corridor to the audition room, which is apparently the place's attic. She's from Tennessee, and that's all I learn before my cable box freezes up again, because it's trying to get us both fired from this show. Which I'm not entirely against, but some notice would be nice. Anyway, it goes into a Groundhog Day loop that's two minutes long before it freezes up entirely. Then, while I'm torn between switching to my DVR-less TV upstairs and getting this unit fixed and having a rather testy conversation with a Comcast representative (that's right, I said Comcast), I see snippets of some orange guy with a tall blond hairdo, and an adorable chick named Kiara getting through, and then I give up on the downstairs unit just in time to meet another blondie named Stephanie Schimel. I'm really sorry, you guys. I promise you two things: 1) that I'll research these people and find out what becomes of them in time for the weecap, by which time you won't care anyway, and 2) that my current cable box will be at the mercy of the Jawas by the time you read this. Anyway, Stephanie Schimel does a breathy, shaky version of "Dream a Little Dream" that Mariah and Keith like a lot more than Nicki does. Randy's in, though, because she's cute. Nicki is the lone no, and loudly points out as much to Stephanie. Which she then blames on her rivalry with Mariah. Then suddenly all four of them are talking all over each other, and the stupid girl sticks around instead of having the sense to eject, until Randy specifically tells her to. She's going to need to work on those instincts as well as her singing.
So it's another montage-style round of battle between Nicki and Mariah, which this time is all about Keith and the personal hell he has to occupy by being stuck in the chair between them. "I feel like a scratching post!" he says.
A massage therapist named Melissa Bush has dressed up like a 1970s sci-fi princess, which her personality is totally not up to. Somehow the pink, glittery, form-fitting bodysuit looks like a cardigan on her. She gives Randy a "Get Down DAWG" t-shirt and endures some lame quips from the judges about her name before making them endure her lame second-grade music teacher rendition of "Downtown." Awkward silence before unanimous nos and more "Bush" quips. Poor girl rented that costume for nothing.
Because the thousands of people who show up for auditions under their own steam still aren't cutting it, there's a new thing this year with a tour bus that goes on the road and collects hopefuls from locations further afield. It seems to have picked up a beefy dude named Gabe Brown from Marion, Iowa who gets his audition off to a very good start by delivering cookies to the judges. And then he straight-up screams "Gimme Shelter" by the Stones. "Do you have something with volume?" Keith deadpans once he's glued his eyebrows back on. Mariah invites him to try something a little softer, so then he performs a version of "We All Die Young," in what is merely a deafening shout. Which, along with the cookies, is enough to get four yeses from the judges. Now he can go out and scream about how he's going to Hollywood.
Up is Kevin Nabity. You know how every musician has his or her own influences, whether it be Dylan or Motown or the Beatles or what have you? Well, this dude's is the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Seriously. He grew up on Vanilla Ice and "Ninja Rap," and the results are about what you'd expect. He practices twirling a pair of bo staffs, one of which inevitably gets dropped into Lake Michigan. In the audition room, he throws a few breakdancing...well, not moves, per se. I guess you'd call them flails. And then he does a high-speed version of "One Week" by the Barenaked Ladies that's even faster and worse than the original. Even the subtitles can't keep up, but that's okay because neither can he. Randy compares him to a bad auctioneer, and Nicki tries to play along, like this is an actual audition but regrets it when he launches into Styx's "Come Sail Away" in a voice that's bad enough to trigger Nicki's British accent, which I'm beginning to realize is one of her tells. They tell him he's not only good enough to sing in the competition, but not good enough to sing anywhere at all, ever. Maybe karaoke, but even that's probably iffy.
Cue the montage of rejection, which includes lots of bits with Nicki hugging people and Mariah giving people encouragement and Randy just not giving any kind of shit at all about any of it because if he were ever going to get fired it would have happened a long time ago.
A 15-year-old dressed like a Big Love character from the waist up appears, while her family hangs out in back inexplicably asking Ryan about how much tail the camera guys get. Isabelle Parrell drafts Keith into duetting on "Baby It's Cold Outside" with her. She has supplied him with not only a partial lyric sheet, but also some positive comments for him to read to her after she's done. Way to cover all the angles, Isabelle. Keith says he likes her voice, Mariah likes her (and Christmas music) in general. Nicki agrees with Mariah for once, surprisingly letting Mariah's obvious fishing for another compliment on her own Christmas song slide. Randy calls for a vote, which Keith protests because he didn't speak yet, even though he did, as the editors remind us all by flashing back to all of thirty seconds ago. Everyone but Randy votes yes, so she's in.
Keith Urban has to leave early to play a concert in Vegas, which I guess is the downside of hiring judges who are actually still working, so Randy moves in between the female judges. Cue the montage of Nicki flagrantly ogling and objectifying some male auditioners, which is just a warm-up for her reaction to cornfed Wisconsinite Griffin Peterson. He sings "Wash By the Water," and if he had a guitar, I'd be putting money on him already. Nicki is all about him, but Randy dismissively says he didn't get it. Like there's a lot Randy gets. Mariah can see both sides, so she ends up being the swing vote and Nicki gets her way. Also, Griffin's mom crosses an item off her bucket list by getting to kiss Ryan on the cheek. That's a pretty small bucket.
We come back at 7:00 PM and meet Curtis Finch, Jr. from St. Louis, who talks more like a TV host than an American Idol contestant. There are more name jokes from the judges, because any joke you make about someone's name is bound to be one they never heard before (actually, in the case of some of Nicki's remarks, that may actually be true). Curtis reveals that his best friend, a huge Mariah fan, is here with him as well. Ryan tests her backstage with some Mariah trivia that he doesn't actually know the answer to, and in the audition room, Curtis launches into a lovely gospel tune that's so good, even throwing the judges' names into it can't mess it up for him. They give him a unanimous, simultaneous yes, and Curtis asks for permission to bring his friend in to meet Mariah. Who, as a result, ends up being more excited about the evening's events than Curtis is.
Up is a contestant named Mariah Pulice. Mariah is happy to meet someone else with her name, which I suspect is not as uncommon as it was before "Vision of Love" came out in 1990. This new Mariah confesses to her battle with anorexia, which of course becomes a whole sad emotional backstory Olympic-clip-package thing, of the variety that always makes me feel like such an asshole for making fun of it. Don't worry, I'll power through. As it turns out, music saved her life, so it looks like she came to the right place. Assuming she can sing, that is. Which she can, as she shows by doing "Let It Be" in a mellow alto. The judges are moved, not just by the singing but her story. Okay, mostly by the story. Yeses across the board, duh. Ryan herds her whole family into the audition room, where somehow there's confetti and everything. The judges are overwhelmed by this display of emotion from the whole Pulice force, and Nicki and Mariah throw a bit of their own. Randy, of course, is a soulless burned-out husk who can only express himself in the form of catchphrases and things that other people just said.
The day, another wholesome Midwesterner named Brandy starts things off by singing "Your Cheatin' Heart" and turning it into a goddamn aria. She tells us that her grandpa used to sing it. "Bet he didn't sing it like that," Keith understates. Nicki is also impressed, Mariah calls the song choice "a-plus-mazing" and what's more, "Cool beans." Four yeses and a golden ticket for that one.
Then Josh Holiday sings "Back at One" by Brian McKnight. He's cute and they even like his uncontrolled careen into falsetto. Holiday's going to Hollywood. Ryan indicates that this marks the beginning of a streak, and Courtney Williams and Andrew Jones are part of this. Up is a young man who's there with his parents, who somehow have never heard him sing before. That would be Clifton Duffin, whom Nicki dubs "Secret Squirrel." While his folks lurk in the doorway, he sings "Superstar" by Luther Vandross, oblivious to their presence until Nicki points them out to him after he's finished singing. Fortunately for all concerned, he wasn't bad at all. And yes, it's emotional, duh. Nicki thinks his secretive sneakiness is inspiring somehow, Mariah can relate, and Keith says he lost it and that Clifton has raw talent. Randy doesn't say anything until he joins the rest of the judges in saying yes. As they leave the room, Nicki reveals that her mother never heard her rap until she was already famous. So what? Neither did I.
After a montage of Mariah fans, we zero in on one named Ieisha Cotton who claims to be a professional dancer. Which is how she begins her audition, by dancing poorly where most contestants are usually singing poorly. Ieisha offers to sing "Thank You" by Ashanti, and wow, now that I'm hearing her sing, I realize that she's not that bad a dancer after all. Compared to her singing she's dancing genius. Mariah tells her to stick with the dancing, Randy diagnoses her with tone-deafness, and Mariah somehow trips herself up into saying yes before correcting her answer to no, which wasn't really necessary because everyone else said no anyway as we all knew they would.
Pretty boy Johnny Keyser from last year is back, but the loosey-goosey version of "Try a Little Tenderness" he treats us to would seem to indicate that he's not exactly been spending the past year practicing non-stop. Or sleeping, going by the close-ups of him. Keith and Randy both give him some positive feedback before Mariah and Nicki start talking over each other over which of them gets to judge first. Mariah also likes him, Nicki likes him enough to dub him Johnny Five, which is coincidentally the nickname of one of my current bandmates (and no, I'm not going to tell you what mine is because a) it's embarrassing, and b) you wouldn't believe me anyway). Nicki polls the judges, and Johnny's got four yeses. So we'll get to see him quietly vanish from the Hollywood round again, looks like.
A very serious, severe woman is worried about ending up in the bloopers reel in such a way as to embarrass her mother or family. I guess she's cool with being a blooper as long as no one else is embarrassed by her. Apparently satisfied with the answer, "Kezban" participates in a mini-bio about how she's a fire performer and balloon animal artist (like last year's Colton Dixon, but with fire!) who doesn't actually expect or want to win. All she wants is to go to Hollywood. She goes into the audition with a guitar over her shoulder and crime scene tape wrapped around the toe of her boots, and sings a jazzy version of "Got No Strings" from Pinocchio before they ask her to switch to the guitar, on which she accompanies herself on an original song that's still in the same key. They like it enough to not only let her finish the song, but also to send her through with unanimous, simultaneous yeses. So she's already reached her goal! Kezban achieves the dream! See what happens when you aim low? She gives Ryan a deadpan interview outside the audition, and asks if she can fill out the paperwork some other day. Then they have a whole awkward thing in which Ryan can clearly not wait to get rid of her, and indeed may for the first time start lobbying for a vote of his own on who gets to go to Hollywood.
The editors have put together a sepia-toned bit called The Miserables, which is a montage of terrible singers and angry departures. Timely!
Ashley Curry is an actual musical theater student, and we know how much Randy likes what he calls the Broadway singers. Fortunately, she's not singing a showtune, but "Mama Knows Best" by Jessie J. Unfortunately, she is terrible. And not just in the "Broadway does not work for American Idol" sense, but in the "also far too terrible for Broadway" sense. The judges are a bit flummoxed, so she offers to do it again in the right key. Which sounds exactly like the first time. Nicki and Keith act as if they're being blown back like in the Memorex commercial, while Mariah gets up from the table and paws at the glass walls in search of an exit. Randy tells Ashley that as a musical theater student, somebody should have told her before now that singing is not her thing. Mariah unwisely tries to humor her by offering to improvise some kind of scene with her and Nicki, so Ashley sings the song AGAIN. In the corridor, Ryan's talking to Ashley's mother and sister when Ashley comes out with the news. In her post-audition interview, Ashley says she doesn't get it, but her mother insists that Ashley has a golden ticket in her heart. I recommend immediate surgery. Dig around in there until it turns up.
At 8:00 PM, Chicago is winding down, which Randy comments on. You know those people who narrate everything and never say anything interesting? Randy's their patron saint. Outside the audition room, Ryan sits on a couch to a handsome young dude in a teal shirt and purple bowtie. In front of the judges, this fellow introduces himself as Lazaro from Cuba by way of Florida, which takes a while because he's living with a serious stutter. His parents tell us in subtitled Spanish that he started stuttering at age six and nothing seemed to improve it. Indeed, moving to the U.S. shut him down almost entirely. His dad tells us how he doesn't have many friends, so music is his life. He tells the judges that he's going to sing "Bridge Over Trouble Water," and Mariah makes the rookie mistake of completing the thought for him. When Lazaro breaks into song, of course he turns out to have a flawless voice and performance style. "Just sing all the time," Keith tells him, also unhelpfully. It's a whole panel of Lionel Logues here. Randy marvels about how the stammer vanishes when he sings, as though that's not quite common. Lazaro is in tears as they pile on the positive feedback, and Randy counts off yet another simultaneous, unanimous yes. Lazaro is going to Hollywood. Somehow, Randy refrains from blaring into his incredulous face, "Did we stutter?"
Ryan tells us that 46 other people made it through from the Chicago auditions, with lots of clips of people jumping, screaming, and shooting Silly String. So we're done with Chicago. And like I said before, I'm done with my current cable box.
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.