Okay, fanatics. O-Town's appearance on All My Children is slated to air in mid-September. I'll tell you more once the date's cemented, but right now it's tentatively scheduled for September 18. And if this show isn't real enough for you, drop by my pal Omar's Survivor recaps -- he's excellent, he's covering the finale, and he did the August 16 episode as well.
Last time on MTB, Ikaika left -- just in case anyone missed the memo. "He deserted us...left us high and dry," spits Erik-Michael in a voice-over patched together to sound a lot more bitter than he actually was. Someone spouts a pat explanation for why Mike and Bryan couldn't fill the void, and we learn that all O-Town wants in life is a little Dan Miller lovin'. Lou calls him, because he could use a little Miller Time himself.
Ikaika's still in the credits. Dan isn't there yet, because of course no one knows whether he makes it. It's a mystery. Really.
A honkin' Man Van pulls up to the O-zone lair -- "honking" in the sense that it's both large and beeping like a metal detector on Trevor's sweet muscles. Dan Miller steps out and the O-Town boys hug him happily. I think it's love. "For months he thought this was done and over with," Ashley shares. "Then out of the blue we want him to come be the fifth." Ashley says they all realize Dan might not make it, so they're trying not to inflate his hopes, or their own. Helpfully, Bunim-Murray emblazons the screen with a graphic: "Day One of Dan Miller's Audition." It's a two-day affair. So why does Dan have approximately four large suitcases? "Those knee-length sweater-vests take up a lot of room," Lou tells me. "And, I asked him to bring a trousseau of naughty nighties." Trev carts some of Dan's bags into Ikaika's old bedroom. Hordes of Mardi Gras beads festoon Trevor's arm/shoulder area -- clearly, someone in the house has a lovely set of breasts. "I bought clothes at the store" -- THE store? -- "and left the tags on because if this doesn't work out, they're going straight back to the store!" Dan chortles. There it is again. "The store." Maybe it's The Store, you know, like when people have a pet rabbit and name it Rabbit. On the wall, there's a huge, puke-green painting with a tiny handprint on the right-center side. I think it symbolizes that these young men are vomitous youths. In confessional, Dan says the guys probably expected him to cavort through the halls and wax rhapsodic about the lake, the boat, and the hugeness of it all. "I've got other things on my mind," Dan says. "There's music to be made and dance steps to be learned, and I had to catch up." This child opens his mouth very wide when he talks, at least in the confessional scenes. Maybe that's why Lou hired him. Oh wait! Whoops. I let the cat out of the bag -- or in this case, the Dan out of the Man Van.
Ranger Marc sits down and runs through the schedule with Dan. Behind him on the wall, there's a framed photo of four whole Granny Smith apples. Look, I just watch this shit, okay? Marc's looking far ahead, and Dan is careful to add the caveat, "If I get that far." Ashley explains it all for us: "Very soon we're flying to Germany to record a song." Marc tells Dan that, in life, everyone should have a passport ready and waiting at all times. "Lou's had to use this tactic a number of times to skirt lawsuits," Marc almost says. Dan just laughs and says he's never even been out of the country. "I'm not Mr. Moneybags!" he exclaims. Ashley frets that the stakes are high with Dan's audition, and that the band is trying not to wig out. Dan makes some remark about how last time, he had two weeks to prepare for the Orlando finals, whereas this time he turned around and flew there in less than a day. Ranger Marc confirms that O-Town needs to relax and let Dan adjust on his own time. "He went from zero to hero in an hour," Marc says. "It's a lot for someone to take." Incidentally, Dan is clad in a stunning billowy sweater-vest -- is that argyle I spy? -- and baggy pants. Seriously, this vest comes down past mid-thigh. I could cinch it and it'd be a modest frock.
In the Man Van, "All For Love" blares as Trev goes through the hand-motions with Dan. Dancing as he drives, Erik-Michael muses that he's got no idea what's running through Dan's mind. I suspect it's something along the lines of, "Put your hands on the goddamn wheel, you malapropist asshead," but it's possible Dan was just craving a really good piece of pizza. Erik says that if he were in Dan's shoes, he'd be going insane in the membrane. O-Town takes Dan to Lou Pearlman's Orlando manse. "I've never seen a house this big," Dan gushes. "These big motorized gates swung open like..." and here, makes a noise likening the experience to St. Peter opening Heaven's pearly gates. The good-conscience angel on Dan's shoulder clutches its chest and collapses, dead after this blasphemy of deifying Lou Pearlman. The estate has a huge house with arched windows, a long, curved driveway, and several wings. The walls of Lou's abode are speckled translucent and red, because it was literally built with the blood, sweat and tears of his staff, the Backstreet Boys and *NSync. "I'm nervous," Dan admits. "The impression I make on this guy will affect the way I live the rest of my life." In this confessional, Dan's hair has been Ashley-ized -- teased and curled, highlighted and generally given the "I Feel Pretty" treatment.
Inside, Lou greets Dan with a bear hug. Dan jokes that he's just trying to stay alive and be himself and not panic. "I really want to ask him why," Dan confesses to us. "Why did I not get picked the first time? Maybe there's something I can work on." I hate to say it and seem crude, but it's pretty clear Lou knew Mike and Bryan were never the right vocal fit for O-Town. So, Dan, there's nothing you can work on -- unless you can somehow inflate your ethnicity quotient.
Sitting in a dingy room with a brown couch and tawny plaid pillows, Lou holds court with O-Town. There are lamps everywhere, as if Lou needs to be strategically lit in order to minimize his alien appearance. That, or it's a bordello. Lou asks the group for an a cappella rendition of "All For Love" and they all oblige, teaching Dan bits of his part. "He can't expect too incredibly much of me if I don't even know the words," Dan reasons. His front teeth have a bucked, rabbity quality to them, and I can't look at Dan without imagining him gnawing on something crunchy. Jacob's hair, maybe. Lou sits on the couch, eyes closed, inhaling the vapors of stench emanating from O-Town's general performance. No, actually, they sound surprisingly decent, considering that pitch has been their biggest problem to date. Lou tells them they'll record something on Tuesday, so by then Dan and his teeth have to learn the dance and be perfect.
Erik sits at home, coughing and polluting the O-zone lair. He's on the phone with Razaana, who's identified as Erik's friend, but who actually met O-Town because her sister, Thania, is dating Jacob. Razaana is the cool, supportive one. "Oh my God, you poor thing!" she coos. "Learn how to take care of yourself." She's horrified that Erik's not drinking healthy fluids and getting rest. "I am so sick, and right now I have no energy," Erik complains. Lying on the couch tucked under a big comforter, he coughs and wheezes and looks pathetic. Ashley's got no sympathy for Razaana's poor l'il ailing muffin. "Erik stayed out late at a club, with smoke and all that atmosphere, and didn't get any sleep," he says. "That's not professional. We're going to Germany to record, and what happens if he's not better? It screws everything." We see Erik passed out on the bed. If you slow down the frame, you see him lying on his stomach to a drained bottle of Goldschlager, wearing pink lipstick and a bra and holding a pair of torn panty hose in his teeth. Then a producer runs by and covers him up.
Dan grabs the Bat Phone and calls his parents. "It looks very good," he says, nibbling on the cord. His father is amazed at the studying he has to do in order to learn everything. "I didn't know Ikaika and I'm not gonna judge him," Toothy McGillicuddy says in confessional. "I do know I'm bringing something to the table that Ikaika didn't." Yes. Carrots. Mrs. McGillicuddy lovingly tells her son that if they don't pick him this time, then they don't deserve his talents. She then asks about Cindy, The Girlfriend, who Dan says had a hard time dealing with the O-Town idea at first but is okay now. In a black-and-white flashback, we see a cute, Candace Cameron-lookalike with short blond hair. Cindy's watching Dan's initial audition through the Hard Rock Café's glass doors. "Cindy knew when we got into this relationship that this is what I wanted to do, and that at a drop of a hat, I could not be there the day," Toothy tells us. Noncommittal, he assures his mom that Cindy will get a phone call soon -- from Lou, demanding that she leave quietly and not disturb the homoerotic force field he's generated. "We're proud of you, Dan," his mother says. "The only surprise was when you didn't make it the first time." Aw! I like Mrs. McGillicuddy. His Dad chips in, "Did you bring enough underwear?" Dan replies, "I brought a good supply." Then they all laugh, because Dan is freeballing under that sweater-vest and everyone knows it. He disconnects.
Rehearsal time. Mini-Lou greets Dan with surprise, shaking his head. "I wasn't aware Dan Miller was going to be here," he tells us. Oh, that's great. So the issue is finding a talented singer/dancer with exactly Ikaika's range, and no one consults the vocal coach? Yes, Trans Con runs as smoothly as a sandpaper speed-bump on an unpaved road. "I don't know where Dan's at," Mini-Lou confesses. "I haven't spent enough time with him trying to work parts. He's missed a lot of training." Jabba Jr. tells Dan to sit tight and listen as the other four sing what they remember of his "The Star-Spangled Banner" arrangement. Mini-Lou promises to pencil in a part for Dan as they go along. O-Town sings the slow first line, and Mini-Lou instantly puts his despairing head in his hand. "Have you been rehearsing this?" he asks. Silence. Erik coughs. "I rehearsed solo," Jacob thinks. "I feel manly in argyle," Dan blurts, then looks down and snaps his mouth shut.
Mini-Lou reams the guys for not practicing. "It's embarrassing to have Dan come in and see that," Ashley says. "It's not a good representation right off the bat." Erik pouts. Mini-Lou is completely disgusted that none of them worked on the anthem, although he doesn't say when they started it. He's insulted that they're wasting his time. "I feel bad for Danny," M-L condescends. "If that was me and I just came into this situation and saw what I was getting into, I'd be on the first plane outta here." To the guys, Mini-Lou says he likes them as people, but refuses to link his name to the audio garbage they're spewing. Ashley looks down, arms crossed, ostensibly fending off nausea. His hair spikes are confused about what's happening, bending any which way but straight. That could also be symbolic of bigger issues. Dan's massive mouth opens, teeth flying free from their lip prison. "Mark'th gonna quit and I've been here for juthht one day?" he lisps, the camera lens dewy with saliva. "What am I thhupposed to learn from our real good vocal coach?" Of all people, Dan is the one who steps up and requests private time to confer with his partners. Jacob spits in his eye and hisses.
This episode is brought to you by Sears and Burger King. Thank them by shopping at J.C. Penney and McDonald's.
Back to the brooding boys. Dan reminds them that the band won't come together unless they practice on their own time. "I hate to come in like this, because I'm not all that," he tells them. "But I'm going to need you to help me a lot. This is my second day -- I'm not trying to take control." He points out that instead of lounging on the sofas, they could sing. A few guys sputter that they've been doing that, but Erik finally admits there are no excuses for how badly they just sucked. Outside, TyJuan commiserates with Mini-Lou. "They're not practicing at all," he says, amazed. "They all think we haven't done this long enough to know that when you don't rehearse, we can tell." Mini-Lou shakes his head and wonders if it would be appropriate to suck on a lock of TyJuan's hair, which is cascading from his noggin in a licorice-stick explosion.
Inside the soundproofed studio, Dan leads the others in a quick warm-up, and they grab Mini-Lou back into the room. "Let's do some damn work!" Dan shouts. Jacob grabs the sheet music and tries to paper-cut Dan to death. Seriously, where is Jacob in all this? He's sitting there mute, whereas normally he'd be a font of information about everyone else's shortcomings. Erik misses a note in song. Trevor points out that Erik wants to accept no responsibility whatsoever for any of his flaws, and that by not getting healthy and working hard, he's failing the group. Mark rubs his forehead in frustration. Dan snacks on a radish.
We cut to Ashley staring squinty-eyed into the sun. "Erik!" he shouts. "What do you mean you're going for a walk? Dude, we gotta go sing this!" Erik is storming off around the parking lot. Ashley tries to tell him that getting pissy and throwing a tantrum will only make Mini-Lou even angrier, especially when he's there to coach five guys and only four are sitting in the studio. Erik brats that no one understands how frustrating it is to sing and sound shitty and be powerless to stop it. "Trevor understands," Ashley starts to say, but stops short. When Erik finally resurfaces, Mini-Lou lectures him on health. "You've been sick ninety percent of the time we've been doing this," he says. "Why not get to a doctor or get medicine? You have to make it a priority." Erik stares at the floor, cursing his gigantic lips and all the germs they snare.
In the studio, Dan works with TyJuan on the dancing. Erik, sitting on the couch, gives Dan a death stare, possibly jealous that someone else boasts a mouth-related feature as dominant as his. Hot Lips vs. Toothy McGillicuddy. Perhaps a pie-eating contest could settle it. Lou watches appreciatively as Dan dances. "Dan's strength is his intense performance," TyJuan says. "His energy level when dancing is really good, a great match with Trevor and Jacob." Afterward, when the guys sweat profusely and pant, TyJuan gathers them into a corner and begins the standard lecture of disappointment. He says the rehearsals are better, but still not on par with their historical best. "At a time when I was supposed to be practicing, they were getting reamed out for like a hour [sic]," Dan says with a wide mouth. Lou chides them for not doing their homework and reminds them his prized clone threatened to quit that morning. He's dumbfounded that no one knows the moves. "I'm going to have to put you on the restricted list," Lou says sadly. "No going out, no partying, nothing until we go to Germany." Lou is sprawled on the couch, one leg spread and stretched across the cushions. It's horrible. It's a crotch-Medusa -- you look, you turn to stone. Dan confesses to being shocked at the high voltage of O-Town's suck power -- the band's a turbo-charged Hoover. "They didn't take this as seriously as I would've tooken [sic] it," Dan says. Erik smiles smugly, because he and all the other literati know it's "taked," not "tooken." Lou isn't quite done giving his boys a gentle spanking. "It's not about Dan fitting in," he says. "It's about, 'Do I have a singing group here?'" Dan shows us his tonsils as he emphasizes his plight. "I gave up everything in one day," he says. "I came to Orlando to become something. I'm not gonna go back." Poor Dan. Poor, innocent Dan. You'll become something, all right -- an E! Entertainment special. After Lou complains O-Town's lackluster work ethic has people questioning his savvy, he then proves he doesn't have any by promising O-Town he won't harp on their egregious failure to work hard. "Tomorrow, you'd better get your act together," Lou finishes. His bald head sweats.
First Charlie Sheen. Then Robert Downey, Jr. Pretty soon, the damn Unabomber will be guest-starring as someone's love interest. Dear ABC: Please recruit Ted Kaczynski for the The Geena Davis Show. They would make a stunning couple -- tons of sparks. Ha! Get it? Sparks? The Unabomber? Okay, thanks. Love, Heathen.
O-zone. Baby, it's 3 AM, and Dan must be lonely. He's still awake, having resorted to dancing and making beat noises with Trevor. "No one wants to stay up until 3 AM practicing and practicing, but sometimes you need to do that," Dan says. Jacob walks in and watches Dan and Trevor finish the dance. "That's tight, huh?" he says. They make merry about how cool the beat noises are, especially when paired with the dance. They all grunt. "I don't want to be seen as the missing link," Dan's teeth tell us. "I don't want that first show to come and people be able to tell I'm the new guy." No one will know, Dan. What with the press tour, the radio interviews, the talk-show circuit and the first sixteen episodes of the show, no one will have a clue you're a new addition. Ashley pokes his head into the gym and is amazed Dan's still dancing so late at night. They make plans to wake each other up at 8 AM, and Ashley leaves Dan alone to fully embrace his entry into teenybopper-dom. I think Billy Idol wrote a song about exactly this moment.
Ah, morning. Erik and Ashley are sound asleep in their cradles -- at least until Dan walks in and rouses them. "Are you guys getting up?" he asks, semi-impatiently. "We've got five minutes until we gotta leave." Erik moans something about needing sleep. "So do I," Dan says shortly, and leaves. Ha! Go Toothy! His gnashers aside, I'm liking Dan. It got boring when only TyJuan, Raymond and Mini-Lou were the hard-asses. And the presence of a sometimes-bitchy Dan means I don't have to admit that I was ever-so-slightly starting to miss Jacob's tirades.
"Day Two of Dan's Audition," Bunim-Murray informs us. "I'm so glad you're here with us, Dan!" sing-songs Erik. He praises his potential bandmate's attitude and says it's making everyone else bring themselves back up a few notches. Trevor's got his leg propped up on the front seat, and his shorts are slipping. He's showing more than a little thigh. Dan looks hungrily at it and his front teeth start to drool. "Keep it up, bro," E-M says. "Don't let it slide like we did." To us, Erik evangelizes Dan's hunger for doing good work, his capacity for learning and his work ethic. Praise be! Amen.
The guys rehearse the dreaded anthem. It sounds tighter, but Erik's clearly off and Mini-Lou calls him on it. "I'm going to make it easy on you, Erik," he says. "I think this is going to make you have a stroke." Erik protests, saying he wants to practice his high notes all day before they make a decision about rewriting them. Mini-Lou rubs his hair with his left hand. I spy a glint of gold. A wedding ring! North America faints. Even his alleged wife is surprised. Meanwhile, Jabba Jr. is reassuring Erik that one note isn't worth all the stress. They cut to the closing sequence on the word "brave," and it sounds nice. Erik hits his high note with gusto. "Now THAT sounds phat," Mini-Lou giggles. His face turns beet red. He looks like a choking Cabbage-Patch Kid. Erik learns an important life lesson here. "When someone tells me something for my benefit, I have to receive it, log it in and adjust, and see if they're right," he says. "It's a humbling process." Mini-Lou again addresses Erik, saying he's not trying to make anyone feel inadequate; he just can't help being a sultry hunk of man. And he doesn't want to write an arrangement that's out of Erik's range and doesn't sound perfect. They rehearse the "brave" part again, and Trevor celebrates. Mini-Lou says it's better, and completely makes fun of Trevor's ballsy insistence that they nailed the harmony perfectly. Much merriment ensues, because Trevor never gets to be right.
stop: Dakari, the record producer. So far, no one's tested Dan's vocal range and we haven't heard him sing a solo. Strange, given the obsession with Ikaika's high notes. Dakari establishes that Dan already knows much of "Baby, I Would," and asks him how he wants to go about recording it. "Tell me what to do," Dan grins. "Today, I just do what people tell me." Dakari plays the song for Dan and filters out a few of the voices so he can learn his own part. As we see Dan sitting down listening and learning, Jacob's voice floats through the air. "Dan's refreshing to this group," he says graciously. "He's someone who works very hard and wants to get better at everything." We hear Dan, and he's got a soft, breathy voice -- but then, he's singing a soft, breathy melody. Before I can harshly and unfairly judge his inevitable mediocrity, Dan's vocals are drowned out by his voice-over. He shares that he's trying not to treat this audition like it's a given, because too many sure things have imploded before. Dakari praises him for "representin'" during his two seconds of studio time, and Dan drags him into the dance hall for a glimpse at the routine. "He's surprised a lot of people," Trevor says. "None of us even picked it up in two days." Dakari looks fatally bored by this display. "Impressive," he lies, trying frantically to tear our his kidney with the stereo remote control in order to have an excuse to flee.
The guys gather at Lou's house to kiss off day two of Dan's charade of an audition. Lou's reassuring O-Town that the longer they stay together, the better they'll sound and the tighter they'll click. Therefore, they should be thankful for ten-year contracts, because any responsible group would stick together at least that long, and once in a while they might even cuddle and tickle the guy that discovered them. Lou adds that the five Backstreet Boys have been together seven years, and that's the sole reason they sound so polished. "Practice a lot, and work hard at it, and you might get that sooner than later," Lou says. For the occasion of this special lecture, entitled Bitches, You're Mine!, Lou seats the band in his virginally decorated white living room while sporting a fluffy "fuck me" comb-over. Dan vomits fresh veggies all over the divan.
Later, Dan takes a turn in the confessional, flashing his toothy grin: "I feel like I proved something in these two days I had to rehearse." Lou heaves himself out of his seat and the guys prepare to adjourn. As the big man wiggles and jiggles upright, I have bizarre flashes of Lou being annihilated by lasers at the end of Ghostbusters. "Oh, man, I forgot to tell you something," Lou says, faking coy. "Yeah, I forgot to tell you. You're in." Without energy, Dan thanks him. In the background, reflected in the glass doors, O-Town stands motionless and deadened. No one cares. The farce is over -- Dan's official. This moment is so anti-climactic. It's like Lou just told them he bought new shoes, or that he hired a fresh face to empty his bedpan. Halfheartedly, everyone high-fives. This is take seventeen of this "real" moment, and the producer swears it's gonna be the last. Anxious to cop a few sneaky feels, Lou holds out his arms and the gang gathers for a group hug. It's hilarious. Lou is so big that everyone's bent and contorted into weird angles to avoid making belly contact. "In our mind, Dan was already part of the group," Jacob says. "We didn't need Lou to tell us." Erik chips in that he respects Dan's strong baritone and his beautiful soul. Trevor gives Ikaika credit, but says Dan's a definite blessing. Ashley remembers how last time Dan came to Orlando, three blind men regained sight. Legend has it that when a warm wind blows, it whispers, "Dan Miller." When a child loses a tooth, Dan Miller comes in the night and replaces it with a crisp dollar bill. He also helped St. George slay the dragon and convinced Bryan Adams to stop penning songs. "I am the luckiest guy in the world," Dan enthuses. "I really do believe that, but I'm still working hard because even the luckiest guy in the world still has to work." As the band listens, Dan prays. "Dear God," he begins. "I'd like to thank you for this blessing I've been blessed with." Erik chuckles to himself again at Dan's folly. "Never use prepositions to end a sentence with!" he thinks. The hug dissolves. Lou grabs Dan's head and presses it to his breast one last time. O-Town leaves, secure and warm in the knowledge that they can cling to one another and not feel tingly.