Previously on Making the Band: Ikaika. That about sums it up. Because he's from Hawaii and no one else is, Ikaika eschews diversity and instead complains about how he's different from everyone else. Paul flirted with anything breasted.
Just so we know it's a cutthroat competition and not just a TV show, Lou reminds the guys that from now on it's all about figuring out which three cast members get to have their hopes raised, then swiftly and viciously dashed a few weeks down the line. Of course, he says it in fewer words, and indeed vastly different ones. As he talks about evaluating them individually, everyone pretends to listen intently while secretly praying it doesn't involve any alone time with Lou. Sounds like they're outta luck, though; Lou's desperate to look relevant, so he's going to personally gather feedback (from Mark "Mini-Lou" Goff, some heretofore unseen chap named Raymond, and TyJuan "Cher and I don't believe in surnames" and relay it to the cast. It's really healthy to discourage direct conversations between coaches and band members, right, because it's best to talk behind people's backs. Great idea! Erik-Michael nods slightly, hatless today so we can all see his new blond streak. Maybe Jacob's is contagious; is there an ointment for that?
Trevor and Jacob met when they roomed together in Orlando during the finals. Over a montage of Trevor clips, Jacob tells us they developed a really great bond, and swapped phone numbers when they both found out they made the Exploited Eight. Essential move, too, since within about a week they had relocated to the same house. But Trevor, Jacob shares, is the group's best dancer and worst singer. "I have the bond with Trevor. But if I make it and he doesn't, or he makes it and I don't, then that bond we created is not going to help the group." Translation: Jacob thinks he's money, baby, and it's so awfully inconsiderate of Trevor to waste all that bonding by not getting his singing up to speed.
Roll the credits, so that all eight guys get a chance to mug for the camera. God, Paul can't even move without looking sleazy.
A few of the guys gather around Mini-Lou's synthesizer. He's playing as Jacob and Erik croon tight -- whoops, I mean, trite -- lyrics and bad harmonies. "Lay down and embrace me....I lose myself in your eyes," they sing, and Erik-Michael gives Jacob a long look. Apparently, the two of them "share the same passion for getting stuff done," and channeled that into writing tunes they hope will knock Lou clean out of his loafers. Trevor just stands there, as Jacob's voice-over confirms Erik-Michael is his new best friend because he's deeper and artsier. "You got me upside down," the duo sings. "Ooh, can I play?" thinks Mini-Lou, who then says, "I think it's going to be good," and everyone not privy to his inner monologue assumes he's referring to the song. Erik-Michael, hiding under his Attitude Cap -- a backwards blue baseball hat -- gets defensive so Mini-Lou assures him he's just trying to help.
Cut to a tight shot of Jacob strumming the guitar. Horribly misguided, Jacob is convinced that continuing to write music is the way to succeed at Trans Con studios. Ah, Jacob, so young to be so delusional -- there's a reason Lou's business doesn't have any literacy-prerequisite, and the 'N Sync guys wouldn't know a guitar if it walked up and started Tearing Up their Hearts. We see Jacob and Erik practicing dance routines; then Erik sits in a corner scribbling. "Dear Diary," he begins, "I accidentally bit my lip today. Again. Considering using album proceeds to pay for reduction surgery." In the confessional, Jacob has mounted the high-horse and is riding it like a bronco in heat. "There's only two people out of the eight writing music or even thinking about it -- myself and Erik." Ikaika runs sobbing into the room, feeling like all that time cuddling his guitar last week was wasted, and if Jacob was Hawaiian he'd have noticed it. Oh, but Jacob's not finished being elitist: "Writing music without inviting people to do with us might become like we're not approachable....but you have to prove yourself." Trevor stands nearby, watching this budding fraternity and wondering how he can be hazed. Two words: Blond Streak. They're sweeping the nation, or rather, spreading like a slow virus through your Orlando Hack Shack. "It bothers me a little bit," he admits on camera, adding that he just wants so desperately to be part of the action.
The Man Van is a-cruisin', so Erik-Michael has on his beige boater's hat. The gang is talking about how exclusive E-M and Jacob are when writing songs. "I say something and they don't even acknowledge me," laughs Paul, who doesn't really care anyway since the un-breasted aren't worth his time. But Trevor pipes up a little too passionately that they never let him participate and always pretend they'll incorporate his suggestions but then never really do it. I bet Trevor is writing a revenge tune in his head. "Jacob lies," Trevor is mentally growling. "Jacob lies. Jacob LIES.....when he transcribes." Lili Taylor and the Say Anything screenwriter feel so bad for this pathetic fifth-wheel that they decide not to file a plagiarism suit. The words on Trev's black t-shirt are blurred so we can't see that he's really Trevor Penick: Purveyor of Smut. "Ooh, Jacob and Erik, writers extraordinaires [sic]," Trevor brats. Cut to a confessional where he admits wanting to throw something into the mix, then pauses. His smile drops off his face and shatters, and he gulps. "It's.....it's cool to watch," he shrugs, lying. Back in the Man Van, Jacob mock-apologizes to Trevor for not letting him write a song, and Trevor tells yet another lie: "It really didn't mean that much to me."
If the cameras are to be believed -- and Bunim-Murray would never try to manipulate what we see -- then in Orlando, the moon actually rises at night. Speaking of moons, Trevor jumps onto Ashley's bed and uses his butt to mock-shove Mr. Angel (under the covers despite being fully dressed, sneakers and all) to the edge of the twin bed. "These beds are too small," he laughs. "And I got a big butt too." At home, Lou adds ten points to Trevor's score. "So...who do you think and who do you want?" asks Trevor. Ashley repeats the question, wondering if his senses deceived him or if a guy really did just hop into bed with him and say that. Lou feverishly turns up the volume on his audio-feed. But no, nothing saucy -- Trevor just wants to speculate about who's going to make the final five, and fishes for compliments with all the skill and subtlety of an elephant attempting a triple-axel. The exchange proceeds more or less as follows:
| What he says | What he thinks | |
| Trevor | "Jacob, you, Erik, Ikaika, Mike." | "Now you say, 'No! You're in, Trevor.'" |
| Ashley | "You don't think you're in it?" | "I say it's me, me, me, me and more me." |
| Trevor | "Not from their aspect." | "Argue with me, pretty-boy." |
| Ashley |
In a nutshell, Trevor thinks the position is his to lose, but that he's not an automatic "in" like some others. Making air-quotes, Trev says Jacob is "in" for sure. In the teaser from last week, the closed-captioning claimed Trevor said Jacob was "ecch," so the captioners were pretty much 0 for 3 on the consonants in that word. Ashley, who until now hadn't said anything since "Let's get up and go running" in the last episode, busts out with some nonsense about everyone being equally talented. They lament that they're so close, and yet...so close to Lou.
At the rehearsal studio, Trevor, Bryan (you blink, you miss), Ashley and Erik are singing a jazzy refrain that goes, "Bip-bip, di-di, dooooo" and Erik is making hand-gestures to coordinate the group's a capella effort. Mini-Lou stops him. "Erik, don't direct," he barks. Erik gets uptight and won't make eye contact. "I can have an attitude...I don't think I have an attitude all the time," Erik tells the cameras, copping a major 'tude in the process. Later, Mark pulls him aside and tells him to relax "for your well-being," and that his words aren't coming form personal dislike. "I feel you," Erik-Michael says three times in a row, then runs away before Mini-Lou gropes back.
Following that exchange: A Grope Nuts commercial. No, wait, that's "Grape" Nuts.
At the Testosterone Zone, the female O-Town groupies pour in through the door as Bryan Chan's voice-over explains that he doesn't like them coming over because "they're a big distraction for the guys when they should be focused," and because they're big meanies who never pay him any attention. Clare and Jenny bounce in at 10:45 PM with three others, one of whom is this Heather person who's looking to maul Paul. Trevor also complains in the confessional. His voice-over says, "We're here to work and make music," but he's glued to the foosball table, which he apparently hasn't realized is not a musical instrument.
"Me and Jacob love women," Erik says, as we see footage from 12:10 AM of Clare and Jen smacking small white balls with paddles. And that was before they started playing ping pong. Whee! Jacob tells us -- and lest we doubt him, the cameras show us -- that Clare and Jen are in a band, which means they understand music comes first. That must be why, at 1:30 AM, the foursome is awake and making noise, with Jacob strumming and Jen singing the word "completely" over and over, except it's pronounced "complete-lay," and Erik-Michael jerks up his head as if to say, "You're my complete lay? Sheeeeit, baby!" But no, she's just caterwauling and she won't stop. She is relentless. Ikaika wanders on camera at 2:45 AM to open and close some cabinet doors. No one else can sleep, and Jen's still belting out the few lyrics she knows, just in case all this whoring could lead to a record deal. At 4:18 AM, Jen and E-M are chatting softly and Jacob's ignoring Clare by playing loudly and leaving room only for such observational gems as, "It's fast." Finally, Paul emerges and begs the gang to call it a night, because it's late and quite frankly, if he isn't getting any play then nobody should. "Are you too good for your hoooooome?" Paul shouts, half-joking and fully constipated. "Gooo hoooooome." When they do, he shouts, "Yes! They're getting out! They're leaving!" while the girls are thinking, "Wow, all that free advertising on-camera and we didn't even have to get naked."
Erik-Michael and Jacob smooch their honeys goodbye, roll back inside the Testosterone Zone and lament that so much estrogen tainted their air for so long. "The only other time we stayed up so late was when we wrote a song," Jacob says. "I think that was much more productive," although he'd be singing a different tune if Clare had just gone ahead and played the skin-flute. Jacob's mind hurts from all this thinking. "No more women. From now on, it's just music. That is the life we chose," he intones. What commendable focus, because the life of a Real Musician is fraught with brutal temptations.
Predictably, Erik-Michael can't get up the morning. A giant black condom with Reservoir Tip™ trots into the room -- oh, no, it's only wacky Bryan and his tight skull cap, sent to wake Erik from the Sleep of the Damned. "You made us do extra pushups yesterday, you can't make us do them again!" Bryan points out, annoyed that every late-night rendezvous with the ladies has this result. Erik-Michael is annoyed, so he spits out two "I feel you"s and Bryan quickly leaves. In his voice-over, Bryan tells us they'd definitely "butt heads" if they were in the same group. Mike Miller shaves. Apparently he hasn't sinned enough to earn camera time. Cut to Erik-Michael outside, moaning to Ikaika that they stayed up until 4:30 AM. "You play, you pay!" Ikaika replies, gleefully self-righteous.
"Spread out and let's get ready!" shouts TyJuan from the dance studio. Lou is more than happy to oblige, plopping himself onto the sofa so he can ogle the eight young men wiggling and wriggling before him. They sing "All for Love," the first single, and dance in groups of four. They're not synchronized in the slightest, but they do at least rub their torsos a lot. Lou looks enthralled, grinning like a newborn who's just been given its first toy. I actually expect him to clap and say "gaga," but he refrains, possibly because when he's sitting he can't reach around his gut enough to make his hands connect.
Inside Lou's office, he chats with the three instructors: TyJuan, Mini-Lou and Raymond, who nobody knows but Everybody Loves. That's the word on the street, at least. The first question is, who's the best dancer? "Trevor," says TyJuan, laughing like it's the most asinine question ever. "I'd give him the, the, the dance award if there was one." Second choice is Jacob. As they chat, we see the guys outside standing in a circle, clapping as each guy takes a turn rockin' out in the middle. Sure, I've seen guys do that, but only after circulating a giant jug of vodka and lemons. Bryan, TyJuan says, has a lot of energy but an awkward disposition when dancing. No kidding -- he's dancing on-camera right now like a robot attempting karate. Ashley is too numerical, counting off the steps in his mind, Raymond says, ignoring the heartening reality that Ashley can at least count. Lou nods, his thickly caked makeup glistening.
Vocally, Mike Miller is outstanding, according to Mini-Lou -- but I think this audio clip came from the first episode where he said the exact same thing, and not a word more. Ikaika has a good ear for all the five harmonies, a pleasant surprise to Mini-Lou. But Paul, although "great," hasn't pushed himself to develop any of his gifts. Except for his penis. Mini-Lou then rats out Erik-Michael for his attitude problem and says he called him to the mat on it, stirring Lou's jealousy until he realizes his mini-self is speaking figuratively. And now, Trevor. Mini-Lou chuckles and shakes his head, pitying Trevor, which is the ultimate insult. "He tries really hard, but standing in line and singing parts is beyond him at this point," Mini-Lou reports, adding that Trev probably won't be able to improve fast enough to make the cut. Lou's strategy? "Let's keep pushing these guys with their weaknesses and see what happens." THAT is the strategy that made him a music mastermind? I had no idea the biz was such a no-brainer.
Erik-Michael enters Lou's office and sits down, hands clenched and clad in his Sensitive Earnest Cap (gray hat, also backwards). Lou tells him that his mini-self still notices attitude problems but thinks he's a great tenor singer despite all that. "It's like they don't really see who I am," E-M says in voice-over. "They don't see how deep I am. They only see...attitude." He rolls his eyes and looks pissed. You know, it's like when Jewel talks about her terrible poetry, which she claims is too profound for the average mind -- the more you claim you're deep, the shallower you probably are. Meanwhile, Jacob's being told he's a splendid baritone tenor and a great dancer. Golden Boy smiles and the editors, bored, cut to Trevor's one-on-one with Lou. Trev looks gleeful when Lou tells him he's the best dancer, but his face falls for the second time this episode when Lou says his singing's not up to speed. "They must not think I can come around enough," he says in confessional mode. "But then...why would you bring me this far?" Right on, Trevor! Except for it being the entire premise of the show...I hear you, and agree.
Finally a commercial, and a pop quiz. Switching Goals is: (a) a wacky Olsen Twins misadventure involving soccer and mistaken identity, or (b) the movie event of the year, with the Olsen Twins as you've never seen them before -- as drug-crazed prostitutes who, whacked out on smack, explore their sexuality. Co-starring Melissa Joan Hart...as the woman they love.
Clare and Jen arrive as the sun sets in Orlando. Jacob says Clare understands that music comes first, and Jen squeals "Erik!" as the cameraman huffs and puffs to catch up to her as the runs to Erik's room. There's footage of them pulling away from a kiss. Aww. She then drags him out -- there's belly-button piercing to do, and Jacob wants new earrings, and what the hell, let's bring Ashley. They drive off. "Excuse me, driver," Jen says, practically standing up in the seat behind Erik and hanging all over him. "You handsome devil." Erik ignores her -- this is the Man Van, and he's in control. There will be no estrogen capers.
Trevor sits alone in the living room, playing the keyboard and singing. "If you put the work in, you're going to...get better," he says. Then keep going, Trevor, because even the closed-captioning folks add an "off-key" disclaimer to your singing. That makes up for the "ecch!" mishap. We then see the tattoo parlor, where happy O-Towners and their women frolic and look through tattoo books and contemplate piercings. Cut to Ranger Mark, who's appeared at the house and is on his cell phone. "Lou. I'm at the house. THEY'RE NOT HERE." He then tells the remaining guys that the eight guys are a team that rises together and falls together, until of course three get kicked out. We see shots of female bellies getting navel rings. Special. Erik's phone rings, and it's Mike Miller. Yay! But all he says is that they have to come home now...and then Ranger Mark steals the phone and asks for Jacob, who commendably tries to take the blame for keeping the other two guys out. "Get your asses back home and get rid of the girls," Mark barks, then hangs up.
In the Man Van, Jacob confirms that Lou and Mark are angry, and that Lou sent Mark out looking for them. One wonders how Lou knew they might be out and about...spies? Hidden cameras? More likely, the slightly more blatant cameras that have been following the guys and probably reporting all activity to Lou so he can manufacture a plot twist. Because they just went to a damn tattoo parlor -- no one cares, and it's not drama unless someone gets pissed. Jacob thinks it's because he's "the one that's been telling everyone to get serious, that's what everybody at the company sees," so now they're really disappointed in his lack of restraint. Cut to the house, where Paul says, "Nobody can talk to Erik," meaning telling E-M not to do something is futile because of his attitude. We hear Erik tell the girls he's not inviting them into the house, and that it's nothing personal. Clare looks worried for the guys, but Jen just looks pissed and stops fawning over Erik, instead leaning back to stare out the window and have herself a good hard sulk. Girl # 3, who's in the van but who the producers haven't acknowledged because no one's trying to get in her pants, stares vapidly into the camera lens.
"How bad do you want it?" lectures Ranger Mark, standing outside with the three offenders. "Is this about fun and games, or is it about making a group?" Erik-Michael can't look at him, and kicks the ground as he says it's the latter. But Ranger Mark's not done; he didn't spend three hours memorizing those index cards for a quick resolution. "Has anyone pointed out what you can't do? You can't sing. You can't dance. You can't even hold a mike to your face," he says, just warming up. "You can't dance except in front of a mirror, and when you look in a mirror, everything's backwards." The guys try desperately to understand the relevance of that statement, but they fail -- as do I, in fact. Ranger Mark shouldn't flirt with depth and symbolism. It's not his bag, baby. Erik chokes out yet another "I feel you." Ranger Mark explains that Lou's not upset, just disappointed, but by gum Ranger Mark's upset because he hears all day how badly each of the guys "want it," and then they stay out all night instead of getting rest. "If I had the shot that you did, I'd be home sleeping," he says, not bothering to mask his bitterness. The guys go inside, and Ranger Mark weeps because instead of being Lou's star singing sensation, he's Lou's bitch.
Erik and Jacob discuss the events. Ashley, being a pretty passive observer and an offender only by association, has disappeared from the scene. The guys agree they aren't mad anymore about being yelled at; instead, they're angry at themselves. "It wasn't that what we did was wrong. It's that what we did wasn't right," says Erik-Michael, unfamiliar with the concept of antonyms. "I think I'm the last person anyone would ever question," Jacob says, and Erik agrees and says the same about himself, of course. "We see ourselves as leaders...and we're not leading by example," Jacob's voice-over tells us. I should point out that, on the O-Town Website, every single one of the eight guys tags himself as a born leader. As Erik repeats that he "wants it" more than anyone, Jacob notes they're doing it backwards: Getting cocky and getting ladies first, and concentrating on fame and success second. He says, "The only person who can stop me from making the group is me." And Lou. And Mini-Lou. And TyJuan. And Raymond (I love that guy). And El Niño. And Y2K. And the stock market. Oh, and any five of the finalists who do better than he does.
The Olive Garden is trying to pretend people, especially real Italians, actually enjoy eating their food. So I bring you a Late Night With Conan O'Brien quote from Andy Richter: "In the Year 2000...Everyone on earth will become flesh-eating zombies. When the flesh is all gone, they will be dirt-eating zombies. Hence after that, some will reluctantly go to The Olive Garden.
time: Carrah and Malia visit, with predictable soul-searching from Ikaika, and predictable guilt for Paul.