We're in Salt Lake City tonight, home of more repressed Latter-Day Saints than you can shake your obviously gay ass at. But I kid the Mormons. Seriously, though, if all I had to evaluate Mormonism by was the contestants they provide to American Idol and So You Think You Can Dance, I would find their religious traditions of skinny blond queer boys and charming but nervous girls utterly captivating. Cat makes friendly with the teeming masses, and everybody freaks their shit out.
Nigel and Mary are joined by Mia (WOOO!) Michaels tonight, and all is right with the world. Up first is Bryan Boyer, a particularly rough-and-tumble b-boy from Sandy, UT (home of Barb, Nicki, and Margene!) with dyed red hair that comes with a black racing stripe (sharp!). He favors that kind of breakdancing where you're constantly crashing down on your shoulder or landing on your head. His dancing shows him to be incredibly athletic and agile, though I wonder about his musicality. One of the best hip-hops of the season, says Nigel, and Mia agrees (Bryan is more excited by Mia's praise than Nigel's, which makes me like him). Unanimous "yes" votes... for choreography. And for the record, yes, I've noticed that the great hip-hoppers get put through to choreography while the great contemporary dancers go straight to Vegas, but to me, that seems like an acknowledgment of the formal training contempo dancers have obviously had more than anything sinister. But here I sit without any conspiracy theories, so what do I know? Anyway, Bryan's already found someone in the hallway to help him train for choreography, so I've got my hopes up.
Okay, get this girl: Her shtick is that she's been in twenty-five car accidents in the span of three years. Um...WHAT? And she was never the driver, either. So either this is some Final Destination thing where the nearest blender is going to short out, causing the kitchen curtains to catch fire, causing the cat to instinctively leap out onto the fire escape, where it knocks over a potted plant, which lands on an already precariously balanced air conditioner, which will drop on this girl's head as she stands on the sidewalk below... or else she is REALLY interpreting "shotgun" rules the wrong way. Anyhoo, what this has to do with her dancing I have no idea. I kind of hope she sucks, because: who wants to partner with that? Her name is Tristy Mirci, in case you feel like checking your flight manifests from now on, and she's contempo dancing to Kelly Clarkson's "Already Gone." Yeah, yeah, it's just like "Halo." This song only makes me think of people getting eliminated last season, so I kind of don't care. Anyway, Tristy appears to have all the moves down, but it's all so wretchedly heavy and clunky. I will bet you cash dollars she "learned" this solely from watching this show on TV. While convalescing. She actually claims to have been trained (I don't buy it), and the judges all let her down gently.
Haley Cloud, 19, is working through a herniated disk in her back. Her contempo routine includes a lot of tumbling and one seriously difficult-looking split landing. "Strong, powerful, uninhibited," says Mary. She loves Haley's confidence. Mia looks at her notes and sees that Haley claims she can stand upside down for minutes at a time. Mia half-jokingly (i.e. not at all jokingly) asks if Haley could conduct the rest of this evaluation upside down. Haley obliges, to Mia's delight, though from this camera angle, the mic is now level with her crotch, so... Nigel likes that she calls her fellow dancers her "competitors," and leers at her (admittedly sizeable) jugs as he hands her a ticket to Vegas.
Megan Kinney (Caitlin's sister from last season?) once again impresses with a sexy contemporary, and Genise Ruidaz works some pink hot pants and contorts herself to the point where I need to ice down. Both get tickets to Vegas.
Those last two beautiful women cue the montage of Nigel horndogging it over all the female contestants. Normally I'd talk about how grossed out I am by Uncle Nigel's creepy leering (and I am), but then a lightning bolt in the shape of Neil Haskell would strike me dead and then: no recap. Anyway, the montage is a lead-up to Ariana Rowley, a.k.a. Satine LaRouge (her burlesque name, natch). Ariana looks about 40 years old and about as desperate as you'd expect. Her striptease prominently features a fur coat straight out of Melanie Griffith in The Bonfire of the Vanities, it's that tired. I'd offer the not-exactly-controversial opinion that this kind of thing is voraciously not sexy, but I'm too busy watching Mary and Mia shoot side-eyes at each other. "Straight to Vegas!" Mary jokes. Mia is cutely flustered, while Nigel keeps repeating how much he loved it. Mia finally finds her words: "weak and trashy." But she does send her to choreography, as does Nigel, so it seems we're in for one more round of this. Boring.
Ballroom dancer Iveta Lukosiute is... amazing. She pretty much IS Lena Olin's character from Alias if she'd never emigrated from Russia, her face has a plastic sheen to it like Jude Law in A.I., she's wearing a green sparkly dinner napkin, and she has a dance partner who she can seemingly summon and banish at will. She is almost definitely here to assassinate someone, but while she waits for the intel, she might as well audition. Watching a woman like this dance to Celine Dion is almost weirder. For real, though, she's got some wicked lines and a serpentine energy that's pretty unique. Nigel makes a big deal of using the word "vivacious" to describe her and actually busts out the Pasha/Anya comparison. Mary starts to cry through the botulism, and Mia's thrilled, too. We need to have a serious Mia smackdown soon. But not for Iveta! I'm too scared of her. She's through to Vegas.
The two dancers we're supposed to care about in choreography are Bryan (we actually do care) and Ariana (we seriously do not care). Here's what totally sucks: Bryan quits 15 minutes into the session. See, this is why choreography for the b-boys, unfortunately. Damn it, Bryan! Take a rumba class before season. (I will say having Pasha run ballroom choreography this season rather than the pop/contempo/hip-hop sessions run by Lauren and Travis in the past has really been a stumbling block for the hip-hoppers. But after watching Phillip drag ass in ballroom last season, I can't exactly say it's not fair.) Anyway, Ariana sucks the bag at "Calle Ocho," and Mia lets her down easy.
Day Two in SLC sees Mia in her nerd glasses. Always a good time. Pascal Nayigiziki, 25, is a twitchy motherfucker who, I am sorry, looks and acts like he's on drugs. He does crack me up talking about how if the song calls for him to be Pink asking "please don't leave me," he'll do that, and if it's DMX, he'll shoot ya. Nigel loses patience with his spasmy non-dancing almost immediately, and honestly, he's not wrong. Pascal rips his shirt in half and flops around on the stage and generally acts not well. The judges mock the twitchiness, and Nigel notes the conspicuous lack of dancing. And also how insanely winded he is. Pascal tries to claim he's an "investment," and he certainly has a kind of hustler's charm, but it's a no-go.
After the break, we get a montage of awesome partner auditions, one of which is a brother-sister pair who look far too much alike, in a way that's unfortunate for the sister, I'm afraid. We meet Ashleigh and Ryan DiLello, I take a moment to pray they're not brother and sister, because holy wow is Ryan hot, and I do not need all that sullied by weirdo incest vibes. And look! They're married! (But aw. He's married.) They're disgustingly cute and happy together, of course, in footage of them at home (if you're into cracking the code, that means they're totally making it). Whatever, uncle, I love them. Particularly when their routine set to "Poker Face" is fairly sharp, if possessed of that weird professional ballroom thing where they're constantly mugging, which is what made it so hard for me to get into Benji and Heidi. But get these two into a contemporary routine, and I'll be set. Mary loves Ryan's strength but finds Ashleigh fake -- and she doesn't see the chemistry between them (valid, actually). Mia says there's a "missing link" with Ashleigh, but is totally into Ryan. Nigel shocks even himself when he praises Ryan over Ashleigh. All three judges say yes to choreography, where they pledge to apply the critiques and correct themselves.
Another pair, Leigh Asay and Josh Murillo have only been dancing together for two weeks. She seems chatty and kinda spacey, while Josh... doesn't speak at all. They also go the Gaga route ("Just Dance"), and... okay, here's the problem. All hour, we've been hit with previews that Leigh fucks up her toe here, so it's now almost impossible to watch the dancing rather than drift down to anticipate the toe-tastrophe. Best I can tell, she's a bit better than him, but they both look a shade undercooked. Anyway, immediately after they're done, Leigh is all, "I think I lost a toenail." Lost. Toenail. The big toe, too, not some no-account pinkie toe. There's lots of blood and it's totally gross, but Leigh kind of wins me over by high-fiving Josh and being all "Yes! Blood on the dance floor!" Weirdo. Mary is freaking out at the sight of it, as am I when we get a closeup of the nail, which is still attached but basically like the hood of a car while you're changing the oil. GAAAAAHHH! Nigel finally gets the medic over, and as the adrenaline wears off it starts to hurt bad. Mia and Mary are, like, huddled together, and I can barely see past my own fingers at this point. Josh gets put through to choreography, while Leigh's injury manages to pay off as she just goes straight to Vegas. A good call, to be sure, but she was totally Pasha-bound if not for that toenail.
So Josh, and the DiLellos are the ones we're looking at in the "Calle Ocho" round. Ryan and Ashleigh are, of course, split up. All three appear to look good, to me, but right off the bat, Josh gets rejected for Vegas. Aw. Ryan and Ryan's Arms are all going to Vegas, and out in the hall, he excitedly picks up Cat in one of the dreamiest hugs of all time. Picks up Cat Deeley!
Meanwhile, Nigel calls Ashleigh's dancing "a bit twee in places," but she gets through to Vegas, too. Ryan sweeps her up off her feet, too, but frankly, Cat has now ruined Ryan for all other women. It happens that quick.
Tomorrow night, it's VEGAS! 152 dancers! Tyce! Mia! Travis (?)! LaurieAnn Gibson!! Oh shit, y'all.
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