There's a fast-forward recap of last night -- which could have saved me so much time if I'd seen it then -- and then the dramatic title cards tell us that tonight it's Miami and Dallas facing the judges. Who, going by this sequence, spend a lot more time posing and walking dramatically for the cameras than they do judging. But don't worry, it seems like they'll be doing a lot of that other thing too, complete with a Wagnerian opera chorus belting away in the background. How many singers do they need, anyway?
High-speed montage of the X Factor production arriving and setting up in Miami, and here's our host Steve. This gig may be too much for him, because he's already forgetting to shave. He reminds us that it's another night of auditions for a competition with a prize of a $5 million recording contract. He lets us know that Miami is the home of Gloria Estefan (okay, no-brainer), Flo Rida (duh), Ricky Martin and Enrique Iglesias. The city looks quite familiar to me as a former Burn Notice recapper, of course. We're reminded of the competition rules, as a guard herds the auditioners through the entrance. "No food, no drinks. Your hope [sic] and your dreams is the only thing allowed in." And don't count on getting back out with those. There's totally a dumpster full of guitars outside as well, which is some highly poignant symbolism in some way I can't quite put my finger on. We're reintroduced to the judges (Simon Cowell, Paula Abdul, Nicole Scherzinger and L.A. Reid), who take their seats at the table in front of an audience of 4,000. "Let the Miami auditions begin," Steve intones, only four minutes in. I could get used to this pace.
The first auditioner we meet tonight is Ashley Sansone, a 27-year-old "starving artist" who gamely restages her exit from her vehicle for the cameras, which is the last likeable thing she does before the auditions, chattering about how her e-mail address is "Unstoppable Talent." More like "Undeliverable Address." Anyway, she's dressed like Katy Perry and has an unstoppable motor mouth that clearly gets on the nerves of her "friend" Andy while they're waiting in the wings. Eventually she reaches the stage and makes an immediate positive impression with her big smile, which she completely turns around with her inability to shut the hell up already. But can she sing? That's an emphatic no, as she treats the judges to her impression of "Piece of my Heart" as performed by Chewbacca. She's not even in sync with her backing track. Eventually she's done, and after L.A. says he hopes she has thick skin, he says her talking got on his nerves but her singing made him want to slit his wrists. Simon says he couldn't understand her, and when she offers to try a ballad, the entire audience yells no. She also gets nos from the judges, and picks up her boots and walks off the stage, where she immediately takes it up with Steve and her friend Andy, who needs hazard pay, because she bitches about it all the way back out to the car.
A 34-year-old hairdresser named Chanel Simone Dixon takes the stage with her blonde wig and gets to scat shrilly for about ten seconds before getting cut off. She demands an explanation, and Simon shrugs like, since you asked, and tells her it was awful. She too wants another try, and ever after getting kicked off the stage, she vows, "The only thing that's gonna stop me is if I die." Is that a dare?
Three dudes with black cowboy hats calling themselves "Kanan Road" attempt some three-part harmonies and sound as bad as Crosby Stills & Nash do live, so they're out too. Then there's another mother/daughter team like last night's, calling themselves "Dreamgirlz," who sing "Barracuda" by Heart. Insert Nightmaregirlz joke here, because they suck and get four nos. One member of their giant family backstage is so incensed at this that he starts yelling and swearing, embarrassing his family and Steve and all humans everywhere. I am hereby declaring Chad Patient Zero for X Factor Rage.
Back from the ads, Simon isn't even trying to be nice to these losers any more, telling a 25-year-old "Internet blogger" named Marissa Hopson that she sings like a three-year-old with a cold, causing her entire family backstage to go, "Oohhhh," in better harmony than Kanan Road. Then, for some reason, Gloria Estefan shows up to pump up the crowd from the venue's outside balcony. Wouldn't they let her in the building?
We meet Caitlynne Curtis, who is 16 years old and brought the whole fam dam. She sings "Firework" with a piano-only backing track, starting weak but better than most of what we've seen tonight. Still, Simon cuts her off before the first chorus. L.A. asks Nicole to go first, and she says, "I think there's room to grow," which Caitlynne, bless her poor naïve heart, takes as a compliment. Simon advises her to get herself into a group, because she doesn't have a good enough voice as a soloist, and says no. Nicole also gives the gentlest no she can, and poor Paula has to be the one who's talking when the unfortunate girl starts crying. Paula can't just come out and say no to her when she's like that, so she goes up onstage to calm her down. Buuuut she still doesn't say yes. L.A. says something inspirational to go with his no, and eventually Caitlynne gets off the stage and out into the White Box, which is outside in Miami, and sobs to us that she doesn't care about the money, she just wants to sing. Well, this may seem harsh, but uh...go ahead, then.
The folks waiting in the cattle pen are starting to get nervous at the word that nobody's made it through yet, and Simon's starting to get cranky. Meeting Nick Voss probably isn't going to help that, what with Nick being 21 years old and sporting a haircut that's a cross between Elvis and Vanilla Ice. The judges are acting worried in the dressing room about the total lack of talent thus far in Miami. Back to Nick, who says he basically got himself fired to come to this audition. The judges return, looking extremely tense, and Nick's family insists he'll be the first to get through. Could we maybe have some overwrought editing to amp up the suspense here? Oh, good, an extra-loud heartbeat sound effect and a commercial break. That'll do it.
Finally a very nervous Nick takes the stage, and is on the verge of tears as he tells his story, which includes a history of getting fired from every job he's had, including directing traffic at the airport. Dancing on the job, it seems. Anyway, he's singing "Trouble" by Elvis Presley, which is a little on the nose. But he goes right into it, doing a much better job with his moves and stage presence than the actual singing. His family in the wings reacts like they're watching the real Elvis. When he's done, L.A. agrees with me, saying the singing wasn't great, but he's a decent entertainer. Nicole agrees. Paula tells him to "lose the Michael Jackson choreography" and work on his vocals. Simon's actually the least qualified in his praise, saying he just loves Nick. They all say yes, so he's the first person through in Miami after all, and off to an emotional reunion with his family backstage and an even more emotional victory speech from the White Box, like he's already won.
So is the Miami curse broken? Ashley Deckard is a slightly punk-rock 14-year-old who is also a ghost hunter. Well, everyone needs a fallback. Her mistake is to tell the judges about her paranormal experiences, which kind of sidetracks the process, although Paula of course totally believes her. When she starts singing, the judges look really glad that she has other skills. At least until some wise-ass sound guy plays creepy noises over the PA while Ashley leaves the stage with her complement of nos.
Further montage of sucking and a brief blackout, which Simon blames on Ashley's ghosts and demons. A 54-year-old delivery guy sings the Bee Gees complete with falsetto. Nicole really is perfecting her look of polite astonishment here in Miami. There's another brief blackout, which freaks her out some more, like technical glitches must be the work of ghosts and not the result of three truckloads of equipment being carted cross-country and set up in hours. Simon takes one look at Marivana Viscuso, a 54-year-old ex-music teacher, and asks if she has ever met any of the other contestants before, probably because she looks like Barbra Streisand's character in an all-drag production of Nuts. She oversings "Summertime" like she's trying to cause a blackout of her own, prompting Simon to compare her sound to that of "wolves mating in the forest." "Bravo!" she bellows at him. Nicole and Paula give her a yes, because why the hell not, at this point?
After the ads, a foursome of young ladies in white called 2Squar'd do some great Destiny's Child-slash-En Vogue type harmonies and easily score four yeses. Kendra Williams is a soulful belter whose family backstage appears to include Rayanne Graff, and who gets through easily. Nicole flirts shamelessly with long-haired, bearded Brendan O'Hara, and he gets four yeses as well. Jeremiah Pagan, 22, claims to be a male soprano, but Chris Colfer doesn't have much to worry about, the way this kid keeps dropping out in the higher registers. But he gets four yeses anyway, which L.A. thinks is too many. I'm sure it'll even out again.
Melanie Amaro is an ordinary-looking 18-year-old college student whose family gets a whole segment on how wonderfully supportive they are. Then she goes out to sing Beyonce's "Listen," and does it so well that it's hard to believe it's coming out of the soft-spoken girl we met a few minutes ago. By the end, Nicole and Paula are on their feet, along with most of the audience, and L.A. is visibly blown away. He and Simon also give her a standing ovation at the end. L.A., Nicole, and Paula gush over her, and even Simon says he brought The X Factor to America to find someone like her. So four yeses, of course, with Simon making the audience deliver his for him. Hugs all around backstage, and then the entire Amaro family is stuffed into the White Box. So we're ending Miami on a high note, clearly.
On to Dallas, where the whole show seems to start all over again. There's a lot of talk about how hot it is outside, and the judges make their big entrance. The first auditioner here is Johnny Rogers, who is 17 and has meticulously sideswept hair that is clearly his pride and joy. Backstage, his mom tells him not to dance, and with another quick hair-shake, he's out onstage. Simon asks him if he knows who he looks like. No, not Justin Bieber -- "Barbie's boyfriend, Ken." You can see Johnny's world crashing down behind his eyes. He's singing an original song, which starts with some light breakdancing. And I can see why he insisted on dancing, because his singing is...not good. The audience digs him, though, because let's face it, it's early. L.A., Nicole, and Paula manage to say nice things to him by completely avoiding saying anything about his actual singing. Simon, however, compares Johnny to a mass-produced Justin Bieber doll that went wrong. They all say no, but Simon at least says it was nice to meet him. On the way out, Johnny says he was too nervous to do well, and his mom agrees. Ouch.
Montage of Nicole picking up the local accent, calling everyone "y'all" and "sugar" for some reason. [Note: Simon warned us about this! -- RS.] we meet Dylan, who looks like he's here representing Kentucky's Meth Country, having sold his truck and shown up here with a lot of swagger and a hat that he can't decide how to wear. Nicole asks him what's the first thing he would buy with the five million bucks. "A truck," L.A. chimes in. Hee. Simon takes pity on the clearly tongue-tied Dylan and invites him to stop talking and start singing. Well, he does stop talking, but rather than singing, he launches into a display of semi-rhythmic screaming and cursing and jumping around the stage like a lab rat on an electrified grid. Finally he ends up flat on his face on the stage, motionless as the boos pour forth. Eventually he gets up and leaves, while Paula is choosing to be distracted from that nightmare seizure by the "sponge" from the microphone. In the wings, Steve has the class to tell Dylan his performance was "extraordinary." L.A. marvels, "He sold his truck to do that?" Let's all hope it was a really shitty truck.
Wesley Kimball is encouragingly normal-looking, but his version of "Second Chance" does not deserve one. Or even a first one, rally. Nos for Wesley. Michael and Michelle are a heavyset couple, and Simon's eyes roll all the way back to England when Michael says he's a personal trainer. They're not bad singers on their own, except when they attempt to harmonize, but they're weird and creepy as hell. Curtis "Phoenix" Lawson wears a Nicole-distracting dreamcatcher as a belt buckle and sings as though his voice has been digitally altered to sound like a dragon singing through an electric fan, so he will not be rising from his own ashes any time soon. The judges are getting worried.
But not as worried as Dexter Haygood, 49, and from first impressions, he has reason to be. He compares himself to James Brown, Mick Jagger and Elvis Presley while dancing in his platform boots in front of a mirror. He shows off the cover from the 1984 album by his former band Xavion (they toured with Hall & Oates!) and says the music business is all ups and downs. Well, mostly downs for him, looks like. He hopes this will be his big comeback. Out on stage, he plays to the crowd in a way that Simon clearly has no patience for. "I know what's coming," Simon sighs. And it's a pretty good James Brown impression, which Simon clearly hates more than anyone else in the place. The judges basically dismiss him as a tribute act, but Simon invites him to sing something else. "15 seconds. A capella. You. Go." Dexter looks like he's going to have a meltdown, but then the editing goes all crazy, strobing back and forth between him and the judges, and just when he raises the mic to his lips, we smash-cut to commercial. I'm almost curious what happens .
And then we come right back to a blurry repeat of the scene, like it's a flashback to ancient times. Simon repeats his challenge, and Dexter takes so long that Steve actually has time to interrupt with a bit of narration and an entire clip package. Suddenly we're in Dexter's hometown of Memphis, where he's homeless, with nothing but a car and the stage clothes on his back. And then back in the Dallas venue, Dexter launches right into "A Man's World," and does it no-shit-for-real, impressing the hell out of the audience. It's good enough that Simon gives him way more than 15 seconds, and when he's done, he also congratulates him on taking the moment. L.A. says he's going out on a limb saying yes. Nicole agrees, and Paula tells him to come back as himself time, but she's saying yes as well. Simon lectures everyone about this being the reason they have an audience (so they can threaten to mob Simon when he gets too full of himself, of course), and says Dexter has soul after all, and four yeses. Dexter heads backstage and gives Steve the longest hug Steve's ever gotten before moving on to the White Box.
Oh, apparently it's called the "X Factor Pod," which Steve says has become a "happy place" for other people as well. Like 20-year-old hog farmer Kyle Corr; cutesy 31-year-old teacher Hannah Morgan, whose audition had Simon in full leer mode; a 12-year-old named Ma'at Bingham Shango; and 23-year-old hairdresser Austin Simmons. I still think the creepy white background makes them all look like they're dead.
Then we meet a 21-year-old rugby coach named Caitlin Koch (pronounced "Cook"). Simon wants to hear all about the rugby playing, and then she sings a slow, soulful version of "Stop in the Name of Love" that impresses everyone, even me. Even she can't believe the audience's reaction. The judges all love her, so four yeses, even though Simon has started doing this annoying thing where he makes everyone wait for his at the end, after they've already gotten enough yeses to move on to the stage. Got two hours to fill, after all.
More Dallas dream-porn when we get back, which is capped off by some guy shrugging, "Five million's a lot, but I'm like, when you're worth a hundred million? You know? I don't what them restricting my career." Probably little danger of that. This would be Xander Alexander, 27, who clearly thinks he's the shit. His idols are Whitney Houston and Mariah Carey before they "lost it," and he's a big diva to "the crew" about getting his name right. He wants to be "the Donald Trump meets Martha Stewart without the jail time meets Beyonce without the ugly husband." So he's not asking for much. He talks about how people compare him to Bruno Mars because of his ethnicity, "Only my hair's not nappy and I'm not chubby." He's certainly the best at making people hate him, that's for sure. Which, from what I've seen all my life, is a vital quality for a lot of pop stars. When he hits the stage like he's already the star he thinks he is, he bickers with Simon about his name and his age, and flirts with Nicole, who wonders how Xander keeps his sunglasses balanced on the bill of his cap. "You'll keep wondering, too," Xander snots. He acts bratty some more and asks, "Am I gonna sing or what?" like someone's forcing him to waste time act like an asshole. He plans to sing "I Am" by Edwin McCain, which surprises Paula, because that's such a white-guy song, I guess. That just gives him a chance to be vainglorious some more. Simon asks if he's ever performed in public before. "Have you ever worn a shirt that isn't gray?" Xander shoots back. "No I haven't." Simon calls him Alexander again, and Xander calls Simon "Simone" and offers to take it outside. Simon calls him Alexander on purpose this time, giving him one more chance. "Shut it and start singing," he snaps. Xander keeps stalling, asking for a mic stand and whining about being nervous until even Paula is starting to lose it. Finally he starts singing the song, and I think he actually sounds great, as much as I hate him, but Simon stops him on the second line and says it's not working. Too much of a white-guy song, I guess. Paula asks him to sing another song, and after some more dithering, he comes up with something else that he manages to sing through his nerves. L.A. is on the fence about him, and Simon interrupts, suddenly calling him Xander and saying he likes him and wants to see what he can do. Xander's crying by now. Paula gushes about how great he is for sassing Simon. Nicole tells him to drop the attitude. L.A. says no, Nicole yes, and Paula no. Xander starts begging Simon, who says it's too late; he needs three yeses. Simon lectures him, "Where you blew this, actually, was that you got the audience to hate you by the end of the audition." He calls him a "bitchy, nasty diva" and sends him on his bitchy, nasty way. Looks like that's it for him and Dallas. See, people? This is what happens when you act like a dick. Okay, yes, you've been watching me act like a dick for seven pages, but the difference is I haven't been doing it to people who can make decisions about my life. I mean, as far as I know.
week: more auditions, more drama, more overwrought opera singing, apparently. See you then. Or will I?
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.