New York City! Manhattan, glittering like jewel in -- oh, never mind, we're zipping on over to Newark, where a dozens-deep crowd teems outside a concert venue. Also in Miami, Seattle, Chicago, Dallas and Los Angeles, as we hear anonymous voices talking and trying to sound like "entertainment" "news" "reporters." As the song "Sing" by My Chemical Romance starts playing (a bit on the nose, no?) words appear on the screen for maximum drama: "Thousands of hopefuls face! Four! Judges!" My advice to the judges, then, is aim for the head. Oh, wait, one of them is Simon Cowell, who I understand can take care of himself. The second is Nicole Scherzinger, the one person in the Pussycat Dolls whose name is known by anyone not also in the Pussycat Dolls. There's also L.A. Reid, filling the role of the bespectacled producer/industry vet; Paula Abdul, who is of course Paula Abdul, and "Introducing Cheryl Cole," which is kind of an awkward moniker. Montage of people performing, audience members screaming, judges reacting, auditioners (and Paula) having emotional meltdowns and Simon being a big giant drama queen about something in the middle of taping. So this all looks very fraught right from the get-go, then. Hot damn.
And now we're watching the incredibly cheesy title sequence, showing a big red-and-black X zooming through the solar system and into Earth's atmosphere, where it docks with the rest of the title at high speed somewhere over New York.
Three X Factor semi trucks cruise through the desert. In the shotgun seat of the lead truck is Steve Jones, but not the Steve Jones from the Sex Pistols, even though this guy is also British. He announces out the open window, "The search for an act worthy of a five-million-dollar recording contract is on. Welcome to The X Factor!" Yeah, good luck with that. And we're getting right to it in the first city to host auditions, "Los Angeleez." Steve informs us that 20,000 people showed up, which makes it the largest audition in the city's history, which I suspect also makes it the largest audition in the history of the universe. The editing tries to pump up the excitement, but I'm just terrified. 20,000 is a very large number of crazies. Steve adds that the competition is open to people from ages 12 on up, including groups and soloists. "And they all have the same delusion," Steve says, although his accent makes it sound like "dream." On top of the shot at stardom, the prize is a recording contract worth five million bucks, which Steve says is the largest prize in TV history. And people seem to have delusions about that, too. Steve hops out of the truck (it stopped first, I should clarify) and warns us that the judges stand between the wannabes and the prize. Steve starts by introducing us to Simon Cowell, who he calls "the most successful talent scout on the planet." Simon VOs, "I walked away from the number-one show in America to launch a brand-new show. The whole thing's a gamble, but that's what makes it exciting." What's that other show called? Is anyone going to mention the name of it? I should probably look into it and see if I can find out. The judge introduced is "Grammy-Award-Winning songwriter, producer and record executive L.A. Reid, the man responsible for the careers of Mariah Carey, Pink, Rihanna, Usher and Justin Bieber." L.A. also tells us what he walked away from, in his case the chairmanship of Island Def Jam, to "take a shot at discovering the generation of stars." So far this judges' panel is a bunch of quitters. Steve also introduces Cheryl Cole, who is a member of Girls Aloud, a solo artist, and as far as I can tell, the poster child for "Big in England." Steve finally introduces Paula Abdul, saying, "She's no stranger to judging talent." True, she was around it for a long time. But any other sentence about Paula Abdul that begins with "she's no stranger" would be a lie. She says she's looking forward to sitting to her old partner in crime. "He's a handful. But so am I." Did she and L.A. Reid used to hang out together? I don't get it.
Steve tells us that in future stages of the competition, there will be four categories: boys, girls, "over 30s" and groups, and each judge will mentor one category, then winnow them down to pit them against each other in live shows that we vote on, and by "we," I mean "people who vote." Steve adds that the season finale will happen "just before Christmas," which gives me something to look forward to. And then he says that it's not just the judges that the auditioners have to face. Over a high-speed montage of a stage being constructed inside the arena, Steve tells us that the auditions are held in front of a live audience of thousands. Wow, that looks like an actual concert, with a light show and everything. The judges arrive outside, we see Simon and Paula hugging and kissing each other hello, and Simon, L.A., Paula and Cheryl head inside and take their seats at the judges' table, stationed behind their glasses bearing the logo of a major, non-Coca-Cola cola. So only eight minutes in, and it looks like we're already getting started. Which I actually appreciate.
The first auditioner we meet is Rachel Crow, a cheerful, cherubic eighth-grader who tells us from the cattle pens in the lobby that she sings all the time. Inside the venue, the excitement is building -- at least for Paula. Rachel talks about how supportive her family is, and she's called up first. "This audition is the most important thing I've ever done in my life," she says with the certainty of a thirteen-year-old. Finally she hits the stage, while her family watches on a monitor in the wings, and Paula greets Rachel like the dotty aunt she is. Simon asks if the two of them are related, and the audience officially begins wearing out its welcome by giving that a way bigger laugh than it deserves. Simon asks Rachel what she'd do with the money, and Rachel comes right out and says her family has none, which cracks Paula up until Rachel adds that she and her family of six live in a two-bedroom house. "And I'm a girl, I need my own bathroom!" So now that she owns the crowd, she's ready to sing "Mercy" by Duffy. Long pause while the backing track gets cued up. You'd think they could edit those bits out. When it starts and Rachel begins singing, she's quite confident, with a decent vibrato and attitude. She's really good for 13, and the audience loves her, as do Paula and Cheryl. She's overcome by the audience reaction when she's done, and Paula tells her that's exactly what they need people to do. Cheryl was rooting for her even before she started singing, while L.A. says she has "everything that every artist I've signed has," which is overstating it a bit. I bet she doesn't have a driver's license. Simon tells her they debated a lot about making the age requirement lower, and says, "You are the reason why we were right taking this age down." He says they'll be hearing more from her. They all give her a yes, and she leaves the stage beyond ecstatic. So, starting off with a happy one, then.
After the ads (and a change of clothes for the judges), the auditioner is Terrell Carter, 36. He's the kind of guy who makes Paula get a total wide-on before he even sings. He croons a slow jam I don't know [Note: "Ribbon in the Sky" by Stevie Wonder -- RS.], and after Cheryl unwisely tells him he has "the package," he gets four yeses. is Ellona Santiago, 14, who we get to hear belting one line of a song with her family watching backstage before she gets four yeses as well. John Lindahl, 14, sings "Forget You." He's not great, but the girls in the audience love him and he's having fun, so he's got four yeses before heading back out to accept the adulation of what looks like his school's entire cheerleading squad. Man, that kid's going to get more tail before he's fifteen than I did all last week.
So, 22 minutes in, it's probably time to meet the first crazy. "Siameze" is 30 years old, with a cascading mane of black hair that starts roughly three feet above his eyebrows, and all that head is there for a reason. For instance, he tells us that when he's a "megastar" (and he's careful to make the distinction between that and "superstar"), he's going to launch his own energy drink, called "Siamenergy. Oh, let's just get this over with. Once he's onstage, and L.A. asks him what he'd do with the five million, he says he'd invest it in his career. Simon wishes him luck, and when the music starts, Siameze starts shrieking and dancing around in his sheer mesh shirt like the world's most rhythmic epileptic. When it's over, I start making up my mind about Cheryl when she says she was thinking, "Do I absolutely love this and think it's genius, or is this kind of weird?" Simon calls him a Prince copycat, but admits that it's "kind of fascinating." Paula gives props for Siameze's commitment, but says it's "not original enough." Which is a pretty ballsy thing for her to say, considering where she is and who she's sitting to. But it gives L.A. cover to say no on the same grounds. Cheryl says no, and Paula's willing to give him a shot. Simon tells him, "You are talented, but you are deluded. But I'm gonna say yes." Like he would turn down another Sanjaya. As Siameze leaves the stage and cops to the Prince comparison (which he thinks is based on his looks and his heels, and not how very, very hard he works to sing and dance like Prince), Simon tells the other judges, "He would be a total nightmare."
Los Angeles at night, as if time has any meaning during this process. Steve says it's day two, and we see yet more nutjobs gathered outside in the predawn dark. And now, suddenly, we're in Pahrump, Nevada, in the double-wide home of Dan and Venita, a husband-and-wife duo who are 70 and 83, respectively, and not an un-dyed hair between them. They talk about the $5 million dollar contract as though they'd be able to spend it before they're dead, and head off to L.A. That was weird. We see them showing up at the venue some time after the judges do, and hear them complaining about the lunch prices in the cattle pen. Once the judges are settled at their tables, Dan and Venita take the stage, Dan acting all cheesy about how proud they are to be there and how many "years young" they are, like anybody has ever used the phrase "years young" except in reference to talking fossils. Simon asks them what they'll do if they win, and Venita starts going off about their motor home and playing senior centers. You can just see Simon's pupils turning into dollar signs when he hears that. They sing "Unchained Melody," and they're not only off-putting and weird, they also sing like a Saturday Night Live sketch. The judges sit through it in open-mouthed astonishment, politely waiting until they're done embarrassing themselves. At which point Simon says they were terrible. "I can imagine me and Paula being you in ten years' time," he says, which looks like it's news to Paula. L.A. calls a vote, and they hurriedly decline Venita's offer to sing again. L.A. and Cheryl give them nos, and while Simon gives them props for sticking it out, he says they're done. "Give it Up" by KC plays as Dan and Venita bid a slightly unhinged farewell from in front of a blinding white screen that makes it looks like they're already dead and shooting a posthumous fantasy scene from Six Feet Under or something.
Moving on. "You Only Live Once" is a pair of teenage girls, one of whom kind of sings while the other one runs around the stage simulating an earsplitting psychotic breakdown, earning them unanimous negatives. Linda Ostrofsky is a 61-year-old retired court clerk who performs "I Touch Myself" without ever touching a right note and gets the quad-boot. A cute-at-first-glance blonde named Miranda says she wants to be the Madonna, but she sings "Firework" even worse than Katy Perry does. Simon tells her she's not a good singer, and Miranda tells him he's wrong. He hasn't been away long enough to care to engage with this crazy.
After a soda-commercial break, Steve tells us the winner will also get to star in a Pepsi commercial during the Super Bowl, which he and the judges labor mightily to convince us is even bigger than the competition itself. Whatever, moving on. Simone Battle is , a 21-year-old USC student whose pink hot pants the camera loves while she practices her Beyonce dance moves and talks about what sets her apart. Which, ironically, is pretty much the usual, only with a heavy infusion of the word "fierce." That could make her the hottest act of 2005, right there. Simon declares her "annoying" once she's in front of the judges, and asks what she'd call her first album. She says "Honey Work," because her sound is like "a threesome between a cheerleader, a hipster and a drag queen." Oh, I can't wait to hear this. She sings "When I Grow Up" by the Pussycat Dolls, and the judges seem pretty unconvinced during it. However, when she's finished, Simon says he likes her, which I'm sure has nothing to do with her hot pants. Cheryl says she has potential, but L.A. says he was "underwhelmed." Simon asks her to sing something else so they can just hear her voice, so she sings a few lines of "Bulletproof," and even though she's supposed to just be showing off her voice she can't seem to stop herself from doing a whole dance along with it. The crowd's impressed, but L.A. is still not won over. Simon tries to argue that he could work with her, but L.A. is implacable. Cheryl and Simon say yes, as does Paula, so she's in. Steve's voice-over tells us "a new rivalry is forming," in an obvious attempt to trump up some kind of conflict between Simon and L.A. They even have a whole clip package, showing L.A. telling a kid named Tom Slade no when Simon says yes, and the reverse to a hip-hop trio calling themselves "Late 2 Fame." They also disagree about a 14-year-old girl singing "Forget You," and a 12-year-old boy who sings Adele. They're even playing "Eye of the Tiger," during this montage, like being the only two judges on this panel who actually have opinions is going to have them beating on each other in a minute.
But perhaps they can put aside their differences when Charlie Cruzer, a 28-year-old boxer in an alien costume, comes out to sing "I Feel Good." But no, after L.A shoots him down, Simon just says he would have said yes, but he's only saying it to mess with L.A. "I've definitely met my match," Simon interviews, and then we see them trying to out-slurp each other from their soda glasses. Can we keep this moving, please?
Nope. First there are more ads, and then some interviews with people talking about how this would change their lives. We meet a young woman named Stacy Francis, who turns out to be 42 and a single mom, with a very bad relationship in her past and some very powerful motivation to improve her life. She hits the stage, where she doesn't exactly downplay her history of trying to make it while being told for the past twelve years that she's too old. Simon wishes her luck, and there's a long, tense pause before she goes into "Natural Woman." And clearly there's something to be said for being 42, because she knows how to start slow and build, and build she does. She sings that sucker like she means it, dude. The judges are clearly blown away, giving her four standing ovations along with the audience. L.A. gushes that she has what it takes, Paula tells her it's her time, Cheryl says she was blown away and Simon says, "That was one of the best auditions I've ever heard in my life." So Simons, counting the members of the audience, tells Stacy that she's earned "4,304 yeses." And Stacy looks like she could write them all in the mascara currently streaming down her face. Okay, good for her.
We see the X Factor trucks driving through the mountains, and suddenly Steve is talking to us from Seattle. Or perhaps the backdrop from the set of Frasier. The Space Needle is behind him either way. Okay, yes, we're in Seattle. More dream-porn, and Steve reminds us of the 12-and-up age requirement for soloists and groups, as well the $5 million prize, as though this is the second episode instead of the second hour. We should be so lucky. We're reintroduced to the judges and everything, but with Nicole Scherzinger replacing Cheryl Cole. Nicole tells us how she herself got her start on a show like this. And yet we're still watching this one.
Geo Godley, looking like the heir to Tiny Tim in his silver velour PJs and tie-dyed t-shirt, is the first to take the stage in Seattle, talking about his classical training and how he's going to sing a "feel-good" song that he wrote. The music starts and we learn from the onscreen caption that he's 43 and an "Internet blogger," which, it's news to me that there are other kinds. Not only is his "song" a random collection of tuneless rhymes, but when he gets to the chorus he drops his pants. A big "X" is edited in over Little Geo as he keeps dancing around with it, singing (unconvincingly) about how he's a stud. Paula and Nicole are horrified in the girliest possible way, and we see audience members heading for the exits as he covers up for the second verse and then does it again on the second chorus. Paula actually leaves the room, and when the nightmare ends, Simon yells over the boos, "What the bloody hell was that?" Geo offers some "gentle ballads," but Simon says he doesn't know what Geo was thinking. Simon obviously doesn't know how hard it is for "Internet bloggers" to come up with topics sometimes and how difficult it is to fight the temptation to do something stupid just so you can write about it. L.A. calls his performance "offensive, disgusting, distasteful, upsetting," which he does not mean as a compliment. Nicole says she's traumatized and adds her no, as does Simon, while Paula dry-heaves in the ladies'. Geo is ushered into the white losers' box, where he acts like he has no idea what went wrong. Paula eventually recovers and returns to the judges' table, presumably with a restraining order.
we meet Marcus Canty, who's 20 years old and blessedly normal-seeming. His mom says she gave him two years to pursue a music career before he has to go to school, and Marcus tells us that this is his last chance. Then there's a bit of experimentation with narrative form not often seen in this kind of show: a title card reading "10 minutes later," and a cut to Marcus sprawled on the audition stage, Paula's voice coming to him from an even greater distance than Paula's voice usually comes from. And then we have to wait through a whole ad break to find out what Marcus's major malfunction was. In what I guess is now a flashback, Steve wishes him luck and sends him out onstage. He does fine with the judges interview, explaining to them about the two-year window. In the wings, Steve asks his mom how much of that he has left, and she tells him, "He's almost done." Marcus sings "I Wish" by Stevie Wonder, and he sounds absolutely fantastic. Dude has some moves, too. The audience is on its feet, and the judges are into it, with Nicole and Paula getting up and dancing. The song ends abruptly, and the audience sheers for so long that Marcus eventually flops down on the stage to take a rest. Which explains what he was doing down there, at least. L.A. compares him to Bobby Brown, like that's a good thing. Nicole and Paula and Simon love him as well, so he's got unanimous yeses. So does his mom's two-year clock start over now, or does he have to go to school if he doesn't win the competition in time? Marcus and his mom hug in the blinding white losers' box, so I guess it's not the losers' box any more.
Day two in Seattle happens to be Nicole's birthday, and sadly, an entire arena full of people singing "Happy Birthday" to her produces no standouts. In the dressing rooms, Simon presents her with a cake with his face on it. Montage of Nicole playing the birthday card throughout the day, until a three-hipster boy band called The Answer from SLC shows up. They start by sucking up with an a capella birthday song for Nicole, and then head into "Rolling in the Deep." That's when their name comes onscreen and turns out to be "The Anser," at which point I decide they must be stopped. Unfortunately they do a pretty good job with the song, and get four yeses. Steve says they're going on to boot camp. Oh, fine.
The singer we meet is simply Nici, who is 23 but looks older than Tracy Francis. This is her dream, blah blah blah, but when she starts singing "Emotions" by Mariah Carey, it's so bad I hardly recognize it. Not that that stops her from attempting (and failing) the high notes. The judges sit there looking at each other like, Who decided we couldn't have a gong? Mercifully Nici stops mid-song, but offers to do another one, thinking the problem is with her microphone. Nicole diplomatically says Nici has "range." "It's the register," Nici "explains." "Yes, it is. Many, many registers," Nicole agrees, deadpan. Heh. Paula thinks Nici came and did this on a dare, like it's the first time anyone eve thought to do that. Simon starts by saying Nici has a horrible voice, and the others make it a unanimous no, along with the audience. "I am shocked and outraged," Nici declares from inside the white box. Simon mutters to the other judges, "It can't get any worse," which he should know is the one thing nobody on TV should ever, ever say.
A frumpy, bespectacled mother-daughter team comes out, but unlike Simon, I can't tell which is which. They're T for Two, and they "sing" a Steve Wonder medley, badly. Simon makes some mean comments about them as they leave. Nici's still in denial in the white box. is an annoying, sawed-off 40-year-old Steve Earle wannabe who emits a gross cackle as he tells the judges that his "girl" has so far sunk a hundred thousand into his singing career, and whose tasteless rendition of "Like a Virgin" makes it difficult to imagine a worse use of a hundred grand. He cackles right up until they give their nos. More denial from Nici. And now there's a group of about a dozen college girls without shoes called The Sonnets, who sing what Simon compares to the music he hears when he's getting a massage. Nos all around. The judges head out for a break, only to be waylaid by Nici, protesting that she sings regularly, so how could she be bad? Simon's nicer to her than I probably would be, but I hope he's learned his lesson about never saying things can't get any worse.
Back to the auditions, we see Simon giving a yes to the love child of J. Lo and Blake Lively, who we got to hear singing all of three syllables, and then there's a 28-year-old trash man named Chris Rene. He's also got a 2½-year-old son. I'd be rooting for him more without the hat he's got on. But then he gets onstage and tells the judges about how he's fresh out of rehab, and then he does a whole interview about his addiction and recovery before we're back with him onstage, telling the judges he's been clean 70 days. He's singing a song of his own called "Young Homie," which is a very ominous sign. But the melodic slow jam he performs is actually quite good, and the audience and judges are totally with him, giving a slo-mo standing ovation when he finishes. Nicole says his talent is indescribable, just like the X factor itself. Paula gives one of her little homilies about talent and bright lights. L.A. says the people he's worked with would be proud to hear him say, "You are the truth." Simon says his favorite feeling is when he meets a star for the first time, and adds, "Maybe you need the show, maybe we need you." Chris is tearing up even before he gets Paula's yes, and L.A. warns him to stay straight before adding his. Simon makes a deal for a yes as long as Chris stays on the right track, and Nicole makes it unanimous. Chris's brother is proud of him backstage with Steve, and Chris interviews, "My son's gonna see that." Aw. That's priceless. Just make sure you fast-forward past Geo, though, mmkay? He white-boxes that this was the third best day of his life, after the birth of his son and the day he got clean and sober. And he's got Coldplay's "Fix You" playing just to underscore it.
And tomorrow: two more hours of the same.
M. Giant is a Minneapolis-based writer with a wife, a son, and a number of cats that seems to have settled at around two. Learn waaaay too much about him at Velcrometer, follow him on Twitter, or just e-mail him at m.giant[at]gmail.com.