Tyce Diorio is on the judges table today as the show hits Charleston, so let's get right to it, shall we?
Sheila Kaiser is a freshman at the University of Georgia, studying biological engineering. She's here against her dad's wishes, and therefore it's hard for her mom to support her too. I...guess? God, I hope she makes it. The dancers whose parents don't support them really break my heart. She dances contemporary. Very alluring. Nigel loves her from jump. "It feels hot," says Nigel, possibly quoting the song she was dancing to. I never listen to the song. I never know any of these songs. Mary says she has it "goin' on" and gives a little mini-scream. Tyce also calls her amazing, and says she gave dancers an education. Nigel's been briefed on her education, and asks about the classes she's missed, and she talks about her dad not supporting her. "I guess when he's sitting around the television with his friends, he's going to be ever so proud of you," says Nigel, because things always work just like that. And then he searches for some cryptic way to announce she's going to Vegas, like asking her about roulette in a really weird roundabout way. "They said that they loved me, and that's all I wanted to hear," she cries to Cat. I don't think she's talking just about dancing, actually. Poor girl. She's sweet.
Erin Mansour is dancing with John Tabakian. She says she's thirty (my ass -- again I call for IDs to be required), so this is her last chance. It's a beat-heavy pairs routine, but it's all over the place. She does a half-assed cabbage patch, for crying out loud. Nigel calls a halt to the dancing and is disbelieving that she's a dance teacher (do auditioners just lie and say that so the judges think they'll be good?). Then she says she's only been ballroom dancing for eight hours, which sets Mary off on a rant about why people think they can do this with so little training, and Tyce also says it's an embarrassment.
Jeremiah Hughes goes shirtless and does scary intense pushups. "On stage, my most negative feature should be that I happen to be human," he says, and that's not even the dippiest or most inane thing he says. He babbles something about how he always has a reason for doing something, so if someone asks him why he's dancing, and he doesn't have an answer at that moment, he won't dance. What if someone asks why you're being a tool? Will you stop that, too? It's a contemporary routine that gets a lot more swoopy camera action than most dancers get. He does some sort of twirl screwup, which Nigel points out, adding that even with that, he's still one of the most exciting dancers he's seen this season. Mary loves him too, his choreography and technique, but notes a couple of times he didn't finish leaps. Tyce offers some tips about consistency and jumps. "Well, if he promises to do his shirt up..." jokes Nigel, and Jeremiah quickly buttons it, and he's off to Vegas. Just don't ask him why, because he'll be eliminated.
Nigel calls Syiddah King "Shirley Temple" because of the mop of curls. She has red and green socks on one foot and blue and yellow on another, and she dances the way you may dance for yourself in front of a mirror. Certainly not for people, with eyes and other sensory inputs. "How long have you been dancing?" asks Nigel. "If you want to call it dancing, forever," says Syiddah. Nigel calls her a mover -- and not a particularly good one -- not a dancer, which is the phrase of the season so far, isn't it? Syiddah does the "I don't even care" routine which is always charming, and blows off hearing advice from Tyce: "I don't need to hear Tyce, because I don't know who Tyce is."
I always feel bad for the dancers featured in the montages after the really sucky dancers, when they do the "But it got even worse!" montage. Like poor Shamika Robinson here, who's getting married in June, but'll postpone the wedding if she makes it through. "Good luck with your wedding in June," says Nigel, after leading her on somewhat. Then I lose any sympathy for Shamika, as she refuses to believe the judges are being honest with her. "You just don't know the style," she says, and Mary can't even begin to tell her how much booty shaking she's seen in her life. "That was very basic. VERRRY basic. Just so you know," says Tyce.
up are Anthony and Antwain Hart, identical twins, dancing separately, Anthony first, doing hip-hop. Is this krump? I think I've forgotten stuff I learned last year, stuff that was in the brain cells currently being killed off by The Bachelorette He's energetic, I'll give him that, but he's not great. Tyce calls it "one-note" and Mary agrees, saying he's got a good feeling for music, but needs to train more. "You're a good mover," says Nigel. Well, that's it. "You're a good mover" is now going in the drinking game. They decline to send him through, and Antwain is up , and is immediately better. "Different animal," says Nigel. Meanwhile, outside, Anthony is explaining that his brother will represent for the both of them. After Nigel stops Antwain's routine, Nigel asks about Anthony. "My brother, he's, I think he's just like really nervous right now," says Antwain, who sticks up for his brother, saying Anthony should be the one up on the stage right now. But he stops short of giving up his spot in favour of Anthony, figuring Anthony wouldn't want Antwain to give up his spot. Nigel asks if they have routines they do together, which they do, which we've already seen and then sends for Anthony and says Antwain figures Anthony wouldn't want his brother to give up his spot. Not willing to throw his brother under the bus, Anthony agrees, and the brothers hug. Aw. And the two of them dance, and are fantastic together. "I am quite happy to put the pair of them through to choreography," says Nigel. Antoine and Anthony both make it to Vegas, along with eighteen others from the Day 1 auditions.
Day 2: Abigail Thurman wants to see if she can compete with the best of the best. She's a swimming instructor who's very nervous. As she dances, though, Cat's smile fades, and Abigail stops dancing when she sees Nigel covering his face with his hands. She wasn't very good, and kept unconsciously brushing her hair out of her eyes. "Honey, that was horrifying," says Tyce. "Oh, crap," she says. She's really sweet, and takes criticism well. Too well, in fact, as she calls herself a loser standing up on stage. Nigel tells her not to think of herself as a loser: "You're just a [bleep] dancer." She takes it well, and earns some applause, and the judges think other dancers should take criticism as well. I suppose Nigel would settle for not being asked to kiss someone's American ass.
BJ Harris goes to a performing arts school in Brooklyn, where his classmates raised money for him to come to the audition. The principal himself bought BJ his plane ticket. He does this amazing robot dance with his feet moving in little steps, with the frame of his legs a perfect rectangle. Then he looks for all the world like there's a magnet in his chest being pulled upwards. "I think it's cool. You have a good spirit. It's just cool," says Tyce, and Mary says he had moves she's never seen before, and it was like he didn't have a spine. "Can you do choreography later on? I don't know yet," she says. He squats down, swings his legs around and starts clapping with his feet. He goes through to choreography.
Courtney Galiano is from New York, and her grandparents are with her. Grandma was on line with her at four a.m., serving breakfast to the other auditioners. She wants a hot tamale train comment from Courtney. She dances a contemporary routine, is very good, and has a body put together, as Casey McCall might say, by a technician very close to god. Nigel calls it very nice, and very pretty, the camera loves her. "Cutie patootie," says Mary, and Tyce is similarly impressed. She gets a ticket to Vegas, and she runs up to hug the judges.
I don't know why they even gave Jason Looney screen time. His lipstick doesn't go well with the scruffy beard, blonde wig, purple pants and glitter shirt he's wearing. I guess we watch him prance about to "Straight Up" just so the judges can excoriate him about being everything that's wrong with dance. "Not only are you a disgrace to dancing, you're a disgrace to transvestites," says Nigel, adding that it's guys like him who make fathers afraid to let their boys dance. Which is bullshit for a couple of reasons. I mean, either this guy is a really screwed-up transgender, which are pretty few and far between anywhere and certainly no excuse to let homophobic fathers off the hook for thinking their sons are going to get all faggy if they dance. The other possibility is that this guy is just putting them on, in which case the homophobic dads also aren't his fault. And as far as wasting time? Nigel, he's only wasting the time you gave him. So it's hypocritical for the show to give the freakshow the time and then blast him for taking it. Mary and Tyce both call bullshit on this guy, and tell him to get out: "You are nothing what this show is about, and it makes me sick," says Mary.
Claire Callaway apparently auditioned two years ago, but hurt her foot, and got injured, and Nigel said she could come back, but then she got herself knocked up. I seem to remember this from last season. She's brought her adorable daughter with her. She tells Cat she didn't want to disappoint anybody, and Cat's all, you didn't disappoint anybody. Claire starts to cry about everything she's gone through, or whatever. I'm not too impressed. She seems to have the idea that Nigel and Mary and America in general gave a crap whether she danced last season. She dances a contemporary routine, and isn't anything to write home about. Tyce calls her a one-trick pony, who uses her beauty, but that's not enough. Well, it's enough for society at large, but for this show, you need to dance. Mary says she thought she saw more in the first audition, but she and Nigel both think the bar has been raised since then, and they can't put her straight through to Vegas. Claire starts to cry and talks about how she gained weight while pregnant and lost it, and couldn't dance for a while -- which she needs to be told isn't anyone else's fault. Outside, she's still crying about it, and needs to suck it up in time for the choreography. She whines about not working as hard as she should have, but she was being a mom seventy-eighty percent of the time. Shouldn't that percentage be, you know, one hundred percent? And again, it's not Nigel's or Mary's or the other contestants' fault you had a kid. I'm not going to go up there and suck and start crying that I would have been better if I hadn't spend time doing other things. Dance, or don't dance. And hope your daughter doesn't eventually see this episode in which you imply you regret having her before you kept going with the dancing.
Choreography round! Breaker BJ: doesn't get through. "I worked too hard. I'm upset with myself, because I'm better than that," he says. Claire: Mary tries to fake her out with a "This is really hard..." and then sends her through. She probably didn't want Claire to start bawling again. Claire and seventeen others are going through, including one dancer who can't spell Vegas, so it's a good thing someone else bought the ticket for her.
The show hits Washington for the first time with Dan Karaty joining the judges. Megan Campbell is up first, dancing contemporary. Her aunt claps in the back. "Oh my gosh, she's my biggest fan," says Megan. "You won my heart today," says Nigel, telling her she danced beautifully to the music, although she needs to quit flipping her hair out of her eyes. Mary calls her "pure joy," and Dan says she left everything on the floor. They send her through to Vegas, and her aunt comes down to hug her and the judges.
"Dancing D's back in town, holla!" Yes, it's Dancing Derrick Bradley, who is one of those guys who acts "crazy" but it consists entirely of bugging his eyes out and screaming and shaking his head. Oh, and also he has to tell you how crazy he's acting. Very studious spontaneity. His routine involves some dice-throwing, fishing, homerun-hitting and golf ... soup-eating? It's not dancing. It's charades. It's Cranium. At least the judges enjoy themselves watching him. Mary says some of his moves have improved, but "come on." He protests that he's taking a jazz class and an African class. I'd like to know in which class -- jazz or African -- did he pick up the "miming golf" move. "Taking one or two classes isn't going to do it." Derrick doesn't really understand that he's not a dancer, to the extent that Nigel actually writes him off with, "I'm bored with you. You don't seem to be getting it."
Markus Shields' mom died when he was 12, three days before Christmas, and he says she'd be proud of him for following his dream. He dances wearing a T-shirt with a huge picture of his mother's face airbrushed onto it. Contemporary/hip-hop, I think? He seems all right to me, and thank god, because I was prepared to be rolling at my eyes at him. "Happy with your performance?" says Nigel, and Markus says no, saying he screwed up. Nigel says the only reason he knew that was because Markus showed it in his face. Mary loved him, and Dan thought he was killing it, and they send him to choreography.
D.C. montage of the good, the bad and the freaky. There's a hula trio, and girls in white face-paint, and ballet-krumping. I for one wouldn't mind to see a little more of the hula dancing.
Markus Smith and Deonna Ball are going to dance some D.C. swing, which is the official dance of Washington (shhh -- foxtrot is still pissed). They claim to be the top "hand dancers" in Washington, and their routine is really cool. Hand movements and spins, and legs entwining. Nigel loves it, citing all the dance styles that went into the mix, and Mary compliments them, Dan loved it too. And they're going off to the choreography.
Markus and Deonna: seem uncomfortable, while Markus still seems unable to smile. And in the end, neither one of them were able to do someone else's choreography. Markus Shields: Mary says the important thing to remember is his mother would want him to be happy. But he's going to be really happy, because he's going to Vegas! Along with only nine others.
Brandon Bryant auditioned three years ago when he was fifteen, lying about his age to do so. Now he actually is eighteen, and his contemporary/ballet routine is fantastic, with controlled flips and twirls. The judges all lavish praise on him, with Mary screaming. And my wife concurs. "That is one incredible body. I'd love you more if you looked like that," says my wife, as helpful as usual.
Phucdat (pronounced "phookdat," unfortunately) Nguyen goes by "The Atomic Goofball," and tells a tale of schoolboy woe, of being spit on and stuffed into lockers. Well, clearly, the people who picked on him in school didn't know he could dance, right? He's pretty good -- breaking and spinning around on one hand, and pulling off his dark outfit, revealing a bright yellow suit underneath. At one point he lies flat and pretends to pull his body along the floor with the chin. He's here to represent the nerds! He gets sent through to the choreography, and even I know he's going to go no further.
Mariya Priymak dances with one of those ribbon-on-a-stick things. Can people still earn Olympic medals for that? Nigel's unimpressed. "I feel like I've seen all this before," says Dan, says he was waiting for her to do something with the ribbon. It's a no for everyone, and a rather uninteresting audition, shown mainly to set up the guy, Anthony Bryant, who a few years ago auditioned using a ribbon-on-a-stick thing, and was told by Nigel that he "didn't look like a masculine dancer." He seemed genuinely surprised that twirling a ribbon around didn't exactly put him on the cover of Manly Man Monthly. Well, now, he's back, graduated from Juilliard, and is signifying "masculine" by putting on camouflage clothes. Is it more masculine? It looks like the Village People have added a soldier. You tell me. I don't find his contemporary routine of twirls and spins, many of which look like a figure-skating routine, super-amazing, but of all the dance that I know little about, I know the least about contemporary. I don't get the judges, though. Nigel complements the technique (I believe the word "brilliant" gets used), but says there's something missing. Well, surely if he dances brilliantly, this competition should help him find that inner something, right? Mary says his technique has gotten stronger, but agrees with Nigel. Dan is a little less kind, saying (again) that he's seen this before. They unanimously send him through to choreography.
Phucdat doesn't make it through. Anthony's changed his clothes, and has now soaked through a khaki T-shirt. And he doesn't make it. Of course, we already know that, given that they kept teasing his prissy hissyfit. Outside the stage, he bursts into tears, earning a soothing hug from Cat. "I have to get my shoes," he sobs. "It's OK, we'll get your shoes for you," coos Cat, but then he spins off and begins his profanity-laced meltdown, bitching about how much he suffers to audition. I guess the idea is to make us suffer now, huh? He's wryly juxtaposed with the amiable Phucdat, who does a little impromptu performance outside. Anthony's performance is a lot less dancey: "Fuck these people!" he snaps.