We pick up slightly before where we left off last night: with 13-year-old Trevor Moran from Temecula, California, getting on our nerves before being abruptly felled by a seemingly life-threatening illness before he even got a chance to audition. Indeed, now lying on the floor of the Cow Palace, he looks sick enough to be in a Lassie episode.
After the credits, we come back to paramedics working on Trevor while other contestants in the holding room look on in camera-ready concern. Out in the auditorium, a producer quietly informs Simon that someone's ill, so they'll move on to the contestant. I don't know why Simon needs to know that one total stranger he knows nothing about will be replaced by another total stranger he knows nothing about, but he puts on a concerned face as well. The paramedics manage to revive Trevor and get some water into him, and as soon as he recovers, his first concern is to a crew member about whether he's going to get another chance to audition later today. Everyone promises he'll get an opportunity, if for no other reason than to keep him from stressing out and collapsing again. The bright side is that this has forced him to calm down and be less irritating.
Eventually he makes it out into the stage. Simon knows he was one who was sick earlier, and warns, "You get one chance at this, Trevor, so you gotta nail it." Cue Trevor's background track: "I'm Sexy and I Know It." Oh my God, way to burn off all the goodwill you got by getting sick. The audience laughs, either at him or with him, while Britney and Demi exchange glances like, "Is this kid for real?" I'm afraid that's the only explanation. Trevor gets quite the ovation from the house. "I'm not entirely sure that was age-appropriate," Simon understates. L.A. says he owned the stage and rocked the house. Demi said he was fun to watch, and Britney thought he was completely adorable. "I think you're going to be remembered for this performance," Simon adds, which may or may not be a compliment. Trevor gets four yeses from the judges, and lives to get dehydrated backstage another day.
And now we're in Greensboro, North Carolina again, because the editors just threw all the footage into a blender, I guess. At the judges' table, Demi kisses a sheet of paper and sends it up to a birthday boy in the audience. "This one is going to be thrown in a very cold shower in a moment," Simon says. Dream on, pervy.
Backstage, some chick power-flirts with a sixteen-year-old kid in the guise of pretending to be concerned about his girlfriend. The kid is Owen Stuart, who wants to use the prize money to move to NYC and marry his girlfriend, about whom he wrote a whole album. He's in hell over having to be away from his beloved, to a disturbing degree. So when he goes out onstage, it's so he can be with her again. This is some Shakespearean shit, y'all. He bores the judges with the whole sad story of their separation after his family moved to Charlotte, and dedicates his song to Tori.
He performs an original song/rap, which the audience seems to dig while the judges are into it to varying degrees. L.A. seemed to like it the most, and appreciates how Owen can both sing and rap well. Britney wasn't wowed, but Demi says all the girls in the place wish they were Tori. Well, except Britney, clearly. Simon likes Owen and his commitment (even though it's to Tori). For the vote, we get another rare disagreement, with Britney as the lone no. Owen promises not to let her down, and she's like, "Whatever, creeper." Backstage, Owen immediately calls his girlfriend and breaks the news that he made it to the round. We get to hear her saying, "Awesome? Who is this?" Okay, on that last part, I only wish.
Up is Freddie Combs, from Greenville Tennessee. He's there with his wife Kay, because someone has to push his wheelchair. Freddie, you see, is large to the point of near-immobility. He shares with us the fact that he peaked at 920 pounds in 2009, but has since whittled himself down by almost 400 pounds. He tells us about the life-changing experience of near-death and his wife/caretaker of fourteen years. Six crew members roll his chair up the ramp to the stage as he hopes the judges will "give a fat boy a chance." Everyone's pretty respectful when his wife wheels him out onstage, and Simon remarks that he looks younger than his forty years. Freddie says he's a minister, and reveals that he's down to 540 pounds. Everyone is duly impressed.
But then he starts singing "Wind Beneath My Wings," and turns out to have a strong, operatic voice with a big vibrato. The whole audience stands up for a guy who can't. L.A. tells Freddie his voice is heavenly, and Britney one-ups him by describing it as "shockingly amazing." Demi says he connected with the audience. Simon says he envisioned Freddie singing the song standing up, and offers Freddie the same deal he offered Chris Rene last year: get your shit together and I'm with you. Britney and Demi add their yeses to Simon's, and L.A. signs on to Simon's deal as well. Backstage, Freddie talks about how this is about more than his talent, but his future, and promises his wife that he's going to stand with L.A. Reid to sing that song one day. I'm sure she's glad to hear it.
In case all this inspiration is getting monotonous, we get to see the judges shoot down the caterwauling Kofoed Sisters, Simon comparing them to the sound of the time he sat on two cats and voting no for all four of them. Nick Moriarty, 17, has Simon saying that his song would send Simon running away if someone sang it to him. Britney tells a girl, "Singing is definitely not your thing, sweetie." High-speed montage of nos, culminating in Bobby House, a 21-year-old with the sweetly melodic voice of Old Dirty Bastard, getting his unanimous rejection and then storming off the stage, stripping to the waist, and spitting at the camera. Backstage, L.A. and Demi commiserate over this deluge of suck.
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So let's hope it's Lauren Jauregi, 16 and from Miami, to the rescue. She's there with the whole dam fam, like that sets anyone apart, but she doesn't seem to have much else going on backstory-wise, other than how hardworking and supportive they are. Out onstage, she sings "If I Ain't Got You," and amazes everyone with a voice beyond her years. L.A. in particular is transported, leaning back with his eyes closed like Britney's giving him a handie under the table. When she's done, L.A. says it was a perfect audition, Britney calls her "so, so good," Demi is really impressed, and Simon loved being surprised by her. Four yeses for Lauren. L.A. even tells her, "The competition just got stiffer because of you." If my theory's correct, it's not the only thing.
Oh, San Francisco again! I'm getting whiplash here. A cherubic, pigtailed 12-year-old named Jordyn Foley from Brentwood, California sports pink, sparkles, and an annoying giggle before making it out on the stage. Simon literally takes one look at her and gasps, "Oh, no." He also remarks on her outfit and compares it to Britney's "when she did 'Hit Me Baby One More Time.'" Britney's more amused than offended, to her credit. Simon just hopes she's not going to sing something from Annie, but of course she is, despite Simon's proclaimed allergy to "Tomorrow."
Jordyn sings the opening all nasally and cutesy until she cranks up the volume, which is clearly torture for Simon. She even throws in a spoken-word interlude, making it impossible for the judges to keep a straight face, even Simon. That was so earnest. "Oh, Jordyn," Simon sighs. Demi and Britney both enjoyed her performance, L.A. says it was fun to watch, especially her choice of a "song that I knew gave [Simon] excruciating pain." Demi says she can't say no to her... which means she may have tried. Britney says yes, and Simon says that although he hates the song, he likes Jordyn -- but he's still saying no. Whiplash again! It's down to L.A. as the swing vote, and he gives her a yes. Simon takes it pretty well, at least until Jordyn leaves the stage crying with joy, at which point he demands of the other judges, "What have you done?" And that's even before her entire cast of thousands parades out across the stage and around to the judges' table to hug the one guy who said no. "It was the best thing ever!" Jordyn sobs, and we cut to fake fireworks going off over the Golden Gate Bridge in appropriately earnest yet cheesy celebration.
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The parking lot outside the Cow Palace is finally empty, as the judges sum up the audition process, now that it's over. What none of them is saying is what I'm thinking, which is that we probably haven't seen anyone who's worth five million dollars yet. As for what's coming up, there's no host to tell us what the steps are, so the judges talk about the future in the vaguest possible terms, and we see some quick clips of the standouts and meltdowns and weirdoes we've seen so far. And then there's the contestants.
week: bootcamp, in Miami. Where bootcamp is apparently one word. And guess what? More meltdowns, apparently. Can't wait.
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.
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