The literal intersection of "reality" television and the soap-opera genre was probably an inevitable collision, as it blurs a line that's already fairly indistinct. Hey, if pseudo-celebrity Dr. Sean Kenniff -- the dim Survivor neurologist -- can test his acting chops on Guiding Light, then our favorite quintuple-threat O-Town can certainly chew scenery with the Grande Dame of Daytime.
Susan Lucci's character on All My Children, Erica, shepherds O-Town from Orlando to fictional Pine Valley, USA, where the universities, hospitals, schools, hotels, and brothels are all eponymous, probably all in the same building and likely on the career track of every city denizen. Erica is one of those quintessential soap-opera diva-heroines. She's been married a million times, been a model, a cosmetics mogul, and a talk-show host, among other things, and basically acts like a self-centered bitch much of the time. Her daughter, Bianca, a teenager recovering from either anorexia or bulimia, is in Pine Valley for the summer (her dad's a Seattle resident), and Erica decides to boost Bianca's social status by throwing a massive shindig in her honor. Unfortunately, neither Boyzone, Milli Vanilli, Rick Springfield, Tiffany, nor the Chuck-E-Cheese mouse were available to provide the entertainment, so a stumped All My Children turned to O-Town instead.
The first mention of our intrepid close-harmony singers comes early in the hour. Chatting with her ex-lover (and brother of Bianca's father), Jack, Erica enthuses about the festivities: "I landed O-Town! O-TOWN is going to be here," she shrieks. Susan Lucci is choking the words out. She's pissed. La Lucci didn't labor nineteen years for that Emmy, only to turn into ABC's publicity bitch. Oh wait -- her Emmy drought already took care of that. Jack stares blankly at her, silently wondering if it would ruin the take to whip out his flask and chug Jack Daniels to dull the pain. Erica/Lucci gushes that a "special favor" she's requested from the band manager will surely delight Bianca, although why her mother's sex life would enthrall the girl is beyond me. Perhaps she's requested a two-year torrid marriage to Ashley, which would give Bianca some very special peer-to-peer parental guidance. Plus, it would make Ms. Kane, as "Erica Angel," a walking oxymoron.
Late in the episode, O-Town makes its daytime-television debut. La Lucci shouts that everyone must welcome the band, "fresh from [its] series, Making the Band." O-Town trots out from what AMC would claim is the kitchen, or perhaps the servants' quarters. There's a tall, dark, tuxedo-clad waiter standing near the door from which O-Town emerges, and he's suspiciously clapping and shouting like mad. Either he's never heard the band perform before, or...Ranger Marc, do you have a brother? Just asking. Jacob and Erik grin stupidly as they march, and Erik fiddles with his thumb ring, wiggling it suggestively up and down the digit and winking at the extras. The band perches prettily on the five "Baby, I Would," stools, but La Lucci isn't ready to relinquish the spotlight just yet. Chirping that she needs Bianca front-and-center, the crowd hushes, then feebly applauds as the moping teen moseys toward her mother. Bianca's clearly a fan of Making the Band, because she's pursed her lips into a gargantuan pout that would make Erik proud. They're not simply bee-stung -- they're full beehives.
Erica flashes the fashion-model smile and proclaims that O-Town is performing its song especially for Bianca. The gang slumps on the stools and waits. With the possible exceptions of Dan and Ashley, the entire group looks downright sloppy. Everyone else at this glamorous shindig is clad in fancy-dress attire -- including tuxedos for every guy. O-Town looks like a Gap commercial reject, grinning from ear-to-ear and blissfully unaware that even the waiters are dressed better. ABC did have five tuxedos to lend O-Town, but the network brass heard the rumors about Dan's underwear supply and was afraid he'd pull a "commando" performance. La Lucci and Bianca finally flee the stage, and our boy-band hell returns.
Lights down. The camera starts filming at the back of the room, and O-Town begins its patented snap-wave-shoulder-microphone-shoulder move. An extra standing in the back eagerly awaits the moment, then vigorously mimics it, finishing by pointing and shaking his own shoulders in mocking mirth. Security! How did Jackie Salvucci get in there?
Jacob starts the song, "Baby I Would." Secretly, I wish they'd whipped out one of the frightening techno-ballads they recorded in Germany -- one of those songs where Bianca can't tell if they're wooing her or fantasizing about beating her senseless. Maybe they'll save that song for WWF Smackdown. Jacob sounds nasal and flat, as usual. The ragtag Underwood mop is practically black, with a red tint, and he sports silver nail polish. It's embarrassing. I'm thinking Jacob realized he's not the prodigal singer any more, so to throw things askew he laced his Justin Timberlake looks with a dose of Marilyn Manson. Erik picks up his two lines, sounding respectable enough. The first two solo bits sound live, not lip-synched. Pity. Then Ashley sings. He's lit in an angelic spotlight, wearing shiny gray/silver clothes. Everyone else wears black or dark blue, with the exception of Erik's gray vest. Actually, Ashley looks really cute, and I find myself vaguely wanting to toss him into the nearest shower. I'm sure the producers will take care of that for me.
The chorus kicks in, and the camera cuts to an insipidly grinning Susan Lucci and a bratty Bianca. Lucci's teeth gleam. Cut to Dan, who's gazing lovingly at the linoleum while opening wide and practically devouring the microphone like it's a chicken leg. He doesn't even notice that La Lucci is practically his biological mother. The only other AMC cast member on the set at this time is Myrtle Fargate, an old woman who's standing there only because she lacked the agility to flee.
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Erik's solo comes , and he wanders carelessly toward Bianca to clasp her hand. Bianca gapes at Erik, utterly dumbfounded because he's not just happy to see her -- it IS a giant tube of chapstick in his pocket. Susan Lucci's smile is still pasted across her face, but it's unclear whether that's her choice or an unfortunate by-product of the last face-lift. Trevor's up , and he's got the two lines that were once Ikaika's. Needless to say, the quality isn't there, but he stays admirably on key and looks quite cute and boyish. When the chorus comes again, Ashley reaches up and touches his ear, apparently struggling to hear the background music pumping through his earpiece. It seems like most of the solo lines are live, but the background vocals and softly sung stuff sound pre-recorded, as though the guys are mouthing at least that much. Still -- so far, it's the best rendition I've heard, except for snitches of the recorded version with Ikaika. He's a whiner, but he can sing.
During the bridge, Jacob and Erik have solos that sound flat, scratchy, and irretrievably laughable. Erik stares adoringly at Jacob, suddenly yearning to -- gasp -- clean the O-Zone with that steel-wool hair. Cut to Bianca, who's clearly smirking and trying hard not to degenerate into outright guffaws. O-Town switches keys and breaks into the high notes. This time, it's Erik who takes Ikaika's notes. Wasn't that the sticking point that prevented them from remaining a four-man band -- the fact that no one else could sing in the same range? It's fantastic the way Making the Band so thoroughly ignored pivotal plot points like that. I swear, if Shelli shows up season wearing an engagement ring and no one mentions it, I'm quitting. Near the end, Dan handles a few high notes, but clearly he lacked the pipes for Ikaika's entire part. Apparently, someone has told O-Town that all authentic singing groups point and grimace when they're pretending to sing, and during the hard-core harmonies, at least half of them are faking. You can even hear Ashley singling softly over a recorded version of his part. The guys mill aimlessly around the stage. Myrtle looks confused -- she specifically ordered an eight-ounce prime rib, and instead she's staring at five withering hot-dogs.
As the song concludes, Ashley stands in the middle and his virginal glow is blinding. Breathily, he croons the final line, and the crowd bursts into applause. Seriously rowdy. There's tens of people tapping their hands together in a tame golf-clap, wondering when Ashley and Bianca will score a joint hole-in-one. Lucci's bony shoulders roll back and her grin is so forced that her collarbone actually pops through her skin. Dan smiles. Lucci hasn't stopped smiling. Teeth are flying fast and furious here. Nary a vegetable is safe -- yes, Myrtle, that includes you. Bianca doesn't give a shit -- she's just pissed because she asked for Ricky Martin, and instead she gets this fool imitation.
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"Ladies and gentlemen...O-Town!" Lucci bellows with a diva flourish, spreading her arms and her hot-pink shawl. She's bloody well had enough of people stealing screen time from her skeletal clutches. It's actually amazing that her words are intelligible, given the mouthful of scenery she's gobbling. Toothy feels a pang -- he wants a nibble, too. Jacob looks vaguely drunk, bobbing and weaving a bit and certain that he's hallucinating, for surely the academy wouldn't give an Emmy to that fuchsia toothpick who's gesturing wildly and calling it "acting." Lucci adds, "And now I have a very special surprise for the guest of honor, my beautiful Bianca. And I believe that Ashley Angel would like to ask her a question." Bianca grimaces and glares and contemplates drinking floor cleaner in the hope of turning the night into something remotely interesting. "Bianca, Ashley has a question for you," Lucci repeats. Hang on, Ashley looks like he's getting ready to speak. Who will he talk to? God, I wish this show would give me some kind of clue.
"Bianca," Ashley asks woodenly, "May I have this dance with you?" Jacob snickers. Bianca looks startled -- "Why didn't my mother TELL me he'd be talking to me?" she thinks -- and dashes out of the ballroom. Ashley feigns worry, fretting that he flubbed his line and brought shame to the Main Street Drugstore Upstairs Acting School and Greek Massage Parlor back in Redding. Jacob tries to create a look of mild surprise, and ends up looking constipated. Erik furrows his brow, bunching up the caterpillar lips in a fervent attempt to beat Lisa Rinna at her own oral game. I find myself cackling. Loudly.
And that's it. O-Town sounded surprisingly good -- a modicum closer to a "real" band. Ashley Angel scored another plug on the Tuesday show, in which Susan Lucci's character berated Bianca for running out on him so rudely. Ronald Angel is pissed. When he vowed to turn the television off at the merest mention of his stepson, he didn't realize he'd have to miss All My Children for an entire TWO days. Without soap operas, where will he learn the art of parenting, huh? Shame on ABC for derailing his studies.
The verdict? Not a terrible daytime debut, but hardly thrilling. On the foray into soapdom, Ranger Marc could at least do his fans the courtesy of appearing on-screen and bedding one of the female characters in return for help booking O-Town a gig. She could wear a Rangers jersey and teach him very special lessons about tonsil hockey, scoring multiple goals, and how best to shoot the puck from inside the crease. Hey, it could happen.
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