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Imagine Mario Brothers with no bombs, no carnivorous plants, no death pits, no deadly turtles. Imagine Donkey Kong with no giant monkey at the top of the ladder, throwing down barrels to kill you. Picture a version of Tomb Raider where Lara Croft just walks around picking things up and saying "Ah, nice, another priceless artifact. Better put it in my pack. My, I'm getting hungry." Sounds stultifyingly boring, and yet people write books on this model all the time.

In my work as a book doctor, I frequently run into pretty manuscripts with likeable characters and believable settings but no discernable plot. These books describe one average day after another, or a reasonable sequence of events which unfold without a hitch. The authors weave elaborate emotional landscapes and carefully illustrate relationships, but there's no problem, no conflict, no obstacle. There's no villain.

In trying to explain this issue to my clients, I realized that a book without a problem is like a video game where you can't die. Not very interesting, and why? Because nothing is at stake. If there are no problems, you're just running your character from left to right, enjoying the backgrounds and the soundtrack. And nobody is going to want to do that, without the aid of chemical stimulants.

What else can video games teach us about writing novels? Here are four important lessons:

RISK: Ever since Mario the plumber jumped on and smashed his first magic mushroom, video games have followed a very predictable formula. It's not about emotions or ideas, either. It's not about illuminating a slice of life. Game after game follows the the same exact framework: Character solves a problem by overcoming obstacles. That's it. The character saves the princess, liberates itself from a dungeon, defeats an evil ruler, or finds the missing gem by destroying enemies, avoiding obstacles, and solving puzzles. And the penalty for failure is death. Here's the truth: If you can't die, there's no point. And if there's no villain in a novel, no threat of destruction from some source, whether internal or external, there's no point either.

From Sonic Hedgehog to God of War, there are a million ways to die in a video game. What would Pacman be without ghosts? Just a way to move a yellow disc around a screen in the four cardinal directions? Now, does the character in your literary novel need to be hovering on the brink of extinction every living second? No. But there must always be something at risk, something at stake, some goal that is being pursued and something valuable that can be lost if the goal is not reached. Put a ghost in the maze. Put a wolf in the cave. Otherwise it's just more geometry, more scenery, more background. And nobody's going to pay money to read that.

SCENE: Not only are there big obstacles in video games, big villains like Dr. Neo Cortex, or Eggman, but there are minor obstacles in every scene. Every single scene has a pit with spikes, or an attacking wolf, or a zombie horde, or something. What does this teach us about writing novels? Not only do we need obstacles, we need obstacles all the time. Never write a scene without tension -- real, tangible, physical tension, whether or not it's connected to the overarching plot. Does jumping on penguins relate directly to Crash Bandicoot's overarching plot to collect crystals and save the world? No. Neither does your conflict in every scene have to relate directly to your main plot arc. But it must be there.

Somebody's cold. There's a storm coming. Characters fight over where to sit at the movies. A lightbulb is burnt out. It's hard, rowing the boat. Time is running out. The soup is too salty. I challenge you to go through your novel right now, and look at every scene you've written, and think, "How could I improve this with a piranha plant? Or a pit of spikes? Or a rogue sniper?" It doesn't have to be Dahlia Gillespie in every scene. But it should be at least a storm trooper or two. There is never a scene in a video game where a character takes a walk in the woods and nothing memorable happens. There shouldn't be one in your novel either.

CHARACTER MOTIVATION: A character in a video game never wakes up in the morning wondering what to do. Characters in novels I have recently read indulge in peaceful reveries over morning coffees, wondering exactly what they should do, where they should go, what projects they should take on. This is not interesting to read. A character in a video game knows exactly what he has to do both long term and short term, including staying out of the way of that fire-breathing minotaur, unlocking that gate, and of course saving the world. Some games actually have a "Quest Log" or a blinking X on a map, or some other kind of visual/verbal reminder of exactly what the character is supposed to be accomplishing. Every one of these guys on the right has a numbered to-do list and none of the entries on the list are "Think about myself" or "Go about my usual activities." Accounts of people's usual activities are boring as dirt, my friend. Unless I am your grandmother or you are paying me to read it, I won't.

PACING: Most video games still follow the same plot structure the earliest ones did. You play a few levels fighting your way through minor bad guys, and then you play a boss (a major monster/bad guy). You play a few more levels fighting through bad guys who are a little bigger, and then you fight a bigger boss. Repeat until you get to the boss at the end of the game, who is the Mother Brain, or Diablo, or Sarah Kerrigan Hive Brain, or whatever. This same structure works in novels, and if you look at any "how to write" book you'll see something like this:



What video games teach us about this plot structure is that as the bosses get bigger the sword gets bigger, the spells get better, the armor gets more effective. As your character ascends the "rising action" toward the climax, he or she is changing shape, redefined by the course he has taken, affected by the scenes he has been through, the obstacles he has overcome. In many games (and novels), while the action intensifies, the situation seems to get worse and worse and worse as you approach that epicenter of awfulness, where the ultimate battle takes place between you and the ultimate bad guy. What video games show us overtly that novels also have to achieve is the transformation of the character that allows the climax to make sense, the fight to be won by that same character that was so feeble and feckless in scene one. The character has to change, from start to finish. in a video game, you can see it happening -- a +20 sword of smiting, a thousand power-ups, a flame thrower. In novels, it has to happen on the inside, but it's just as important.

Of course there are ways in which novels transcend the formulaic machinations of video games. But if you are looking for basics, they're all there, even in the very first Mario Brothers: an initiating incident, a problem, the fights, the obstacles, the villains, the rising action, the climax, and the denouement. Try it out: stand your novel up for comparison with your favorite video game, and see if your character needs a princess to rescue, a gorilla to fight, or maybe if more magic mushrooms are in order.

Labels: book doctoring, how to, writing

After an unfortunate visual gag that involved Ellen nuzzling Simon's ear, we're off! No time to chat, because it's a one hour show! Let's choose our top twelve, people! Or, let's spend an hour asking these questions: "Was that the right song choice for her? Or should she have sung a different song? Oh, a different one? Well which one?"

KATIE STEVENS: Katie sings Kelly Clarkson's song "Breakaway." The judges have been telling her to go younger, so you'd think Kelly Clarkson circa 2004 would be appropriate. However, tonight Ellen tells her that she still wasn't old enough to sing these lyrics. Yeah, because singing "I'll spread my wings and learn how to fly" requires a really mature stature. Apparently, nothing is young enough for Katie Stevens to sing, and the judges request that if she makes it back next week she try out the song from Teletubbies. That might be young enough to accommodate her extreme youth. Simon gives her ten out of ten for trying but says it wasn't good enough. He tells her she sucked (long pause) the life out of the song. Kara says she just doesn't know what kind of artist Katie wants to be.

SIOBHAN MAGNUS: Siobhan slowly tell us that her father taught her to sing, and then slowly reveals that she will sing "House of the Rising Sun" to honor him. I'm sure any father would be honored by his daughter singing a song about being debauched in a whorehouse. It sounds pretty dope, in the words of Randy. The first verse she sings acapella, which provides that magical "moment" feeling we love to see on Idol, and then the lone guitar kicks in, and then the whole band comes in very predictably, which prompts Ellen to praise the fact that she made the song "current." Simon calls it ploddy, boring, and dark. Kara puts in that she doesn't know what kind of artist Siobhan wants to be.

LACEY BROWN: Lacey is lurking/sitting on the side of the stage during Siobhan's critique, so they can immediately transition over to her singing Belina Carlisle's "The Story." What, no stupid anecdote about her childhood? No drippy dedication to Grandma or dear dog Pedro or poor dead Uncle Hoss? We must really be on a time crunch. She never gets up from her seat, just stares down the camera and daintily yodels her way through it with her shiny, shiny lips and her fake, fake color contacts. Wow, the judges love her song choice! She's back on track, they say! Even Simon thinks it sounds like it's already on the radio. Kara is excited to report that she knows what kind of artist Lacey Brown will be!!!!

KATELYNN EPPERLING: Katelynn sings "I Feel the Earth Move," by Carole King, wearing high waisted overall skirt, and mildly be-bopping around behind some kind of keyboard. She seems to have been attacked offstage by a bath loofah which is still stuck to the top of her head. Or maybe it's like she teashed her hair up into a big huge blonde afro and then right before she went on stage she tried to shove her forehead into a furnace fan. The judges hate it. They're disappointed with the lack of specialness. She didn't look like she was competing, not trying hard enough. Mole visibility quotient: 60%.

DIDI BENAMI: Didi hasn't played her guitar since Hollywood Week but now she's going to play the hell out of it. Or at least she's going to play two strings in syncopated chords again and again during a trippy, stripped down version of "Rhiannon" by Fleetwood Mac. Randy missed the wow moment but thought it was better than last week. Ellen says, "Yes indeedy, Didi" and everyone around her literally barks out "Ha ha ha" as in three syllables of obligatory laughter. It's amazing to me that they hired a comedian to be a judge, an actual comedian with a successful career, and she has delivered less than half a dozen viable jokes in six weeks of screen time. Kara and Simon loved it. The judges praise her for coming back strong after being "mauled."

PAIGE MILES: Paige has taken her turn pressing her face against the furnace fan backstage, then maybe had someone throw a bucket of water on her hairdo for good measure. She sings a dreary, hopeless version of "Smile" by Charlie Chaplin, staying safely behind the beat and whispering shyly. The judges hate it and Simon calls it the "end of the road." Paige repeats a few times that she loves the song and that it's emotional for her. Ryan asks why it's emotional, maybe digging for a sympathy vote or two, but Paige seems to be saying that the reason she's emotional is that Michael Jackson recorded that song and is now dead.

CRYSTAL BOWERSOX: Crystal sings "Give Me One Reason" by Tracy Chapman, and plays the electric guitar. Then she sits down on her amp to take her criticism, too cool to even stand. Actually, we later learn that the weight of her extreme coolness has shattered her kneecaps, and she has had to be rushed to the hospital. We must all rearrange our schedules for the next three weeks so that she can get repeat kneecap replacement surgery, but this time she needs titanium ones, to sustain the massive encumbrance of her sick, sick cool. The judges ask her to please take a poo, so they can bathe in its glorious light. They offer to clean her feet with their hair. Kara reaches into her abdomen and pulls out a throbbing, dripping kidney, offers it to Crystal just in case. Simon calls her "most improved" and "the one to beat." Maybe she'll disappear when they move to the bigger stage. We can only hope. American doesn't like an Idol that peaks early.

LILLY SCOTT: Lilly plays an electric mandolin and sings "I Fall to Pieces" by Patsy Cline, zombie edition. It's violently overwrought and dull and halloween-ish. The arrangement is reminiscent of an olde time hootenanny, like you can imagine someone sucking a hayseed and playing the string bass. And not in a fresh, updated way. In a way where you chew the seeds of actual hay. Look, Patsy Cline is Patsy Cline. She's an icon. If you're going to do Patsy Cline as olde time country hayseed, you have to be, like Loretta Lynn or Willie Nelson. If you're going to do it modern, you're doing it like Cowboy Junkies or, like The Lemonheads or something. Ellen, clearly having listened to something completely different sung by someone other than Lilly, praises the originality of her style, and Kara calls it contemporary and current. Yeah. At least they're loyal.

Best Performances: Siobhan Magnus and Didi Benami
Worst Performances: Paige Miles and Katie Stevens
Going Home: Katelynn Epperly and Paige Miles

See you tomorrow night!

Labels: american idol, idol, recap, television

Tonight on American Idol and Local Craft Faire: Kara has borrowed Jermaine's butter dish in order to sculpt her very own hair tumor. Simon uses the word "misunderestimated" in all seriousness. The girls take their turn sharing little known facts about themselves. And we learn how to make a pin cushion out of a thrifted wool sweater!

CRYSTAL BOWERSOX: What don't we know about Crystal? Crystal has a twin that was too square for her, so she absorbed him into her body while they were still in the womb, and now wears him as a second liver. "I love you, bro, but you're so square and you know it!" she says kiddingly at her own abdomen. She also carries with her the shrunken heads and teeth of her fallen enemies in a small Chinese pouch. Did I mention teeth? Crystal is still missing several of hers -- I guess the medical emergency must have been a dreadlock stuck in the vacuum cleaner, not mouth surgery as I had guessed. She sings "As Long As I See the Light" by Creedence Clearwater Whatever, and promises she's going to gospel/church it up, which to her means taking a week to slide up into all the big notes. She does a confident, credible job and the judges build a temple for her worship. I'd say at this point if the judges get their way, between giving her pimp spot on week one, executing an unprecedented schedule change so she could recover from her illness, and tonight's fawning, that we're looking at a finale of Crystal Bowersox and Lee DeWyze. If America gets her jumpy, pimply way, it'll be Tim Urban and Alex Lambert in the finals. YIKES.

HAELEY SOMETHING: Haeley reveals a secret about herself: she likes to make headbands and hair accessories! I hope she's already got her Etsy shop in place because she's going to have a lot of time to wind that ribbon. She delivers a completely flat, one-dimensional performance of what was already a really annoying, one-dimensional song: Hannah Montana's "The Climb." She wanders hopelessly around stage, warbling past the pitch now and then, lisping, clutching, tottering around like a kindergartner in Grandma's heels. The judges "keep it real" and filet her with a sharp knife. Camera cuts to her small, gaunt, long-haired grandmother, who blinks her tired, sunken eyes and mouths these words to the camera: "I will cut out your heart and eat it raw if you don't vote for Haeley."

LACEY BROWN: Lacey's secret is that she refurbishes antiques to sell. She says it relaxes her -- and this is exactly what Haeley said about her headband creation. Because that's what you want in a pop star -- someone who knows how to relax with a glue gun. Not sexy, ladies! She's going to sing "Kiss Me" by Sixpence None the Richer, on Kara's recommendation. She has a bigger, maybe better voice than Leigh Nash. However, what she doesn't have that Leigh Nash has is the ability to sing "Kiss Me" without making me want to open a trap door under her feet and send her to the bowels of the earth, to be eaten by a balrog. She is either nervous or secretly forty-five years old, but the cute bounce and the wink and the twinkle play really fake. She seems like a nice lady, though. A nice, middle-aged lady.

KATIE STEVENS: Katie interviews so cute. She's goofy, she's irreverent, she laughs at herself -- what's not to like? Here's someone who, in stark contrast to Lacey Brown, is actually young, and in bangin' shoes she kills "Girl, Put Your Records On." You know who she reminds me of? Katherine McPhee. A lot. I bet she has a real moment later on in the show with "Somewhere Over the Rainbow." The judges criticize her fiercely -- WHY? I thought she sounded fine. Don't worry, she'll be ok for next week. I like to think that Katie is a closet nerd, who is, like, always on time with her papers and does all the extra credit. Ryan asks her what she's going to do about their critique of her song choice, and she says, "I guess research and look up stuff." Katie, I love you! Google it!

DIDI BENAMI: Didi reveals that she was the school mascot in middle school, and then a cheerleader. She plans to bring up her "star meter" a little bit by singing "Lean On Me" by Bill Withers. In my opinion, she succeeds. I mean, she bopped around on stage too much and had too much fun, like, overly connecting with the lyric, but I thought the voice was strong. Didi has been compared to Brooke White, and I get that, but Brooke could never have pulled off Bill Withers. The judges disagree, and skewer her with a hot poker. They hate the song choice, call it screechy, a disaster. Ellen suggests she should have sung "Lovely Day." Yeah, because that's one where she could have really showed what Kara calls her "vocal stylings." Glory notes left and right. Am I watching a different show than the judges are? Is Didi's actual flaw in the judges' eyes is her failure to be Crystal Bowersox?

MICHELLE DELAMOR: Michelle reveals that she is the children's choir director at church, and the tape shows her pre-show prayer and meditation, just so everyone knows what team she's playing for (the good guys!). Last week the judges called her safe, so this week she's going to sing "With Arms Wide Open" by Creed, because a song with a four-note range constitutes taking a huge risk. It goes about as well as you think it might it would -- listening to her was at least as fascinating as watching a bulldozer fill in a small pool. The judges (AGAIN) criticize the song choice. Randy hated it, Kara loved it, Simon agrees with.... Kara. Oh whatever. And you know how many people are going to buy Delamor/Creed on ITunes? Not a lot.

Hey, I have an idea -- what if the judges just criticize the song the contestant is singing and the performance that actually happens on stage, instead of dangling this other thing they might have done, something that the judges can't quite define, that the singers should definitely do next time. I'd like to hear "That was bad," or "That was good," but I am not interested in "What if this or that?" You know what it is? It's lazy. they focus so much on song choice, you start to think it's all about that. And when you realize that the song choice is *not in the contestant's control* it becomes harder and harder to pretend this whole thing isn't ridiculous.

LILLY SCOTT: Since the coaches have been working with Lilly to get her to open her eyes more, I may not get another opportunity to say: HAPPY VALENTIMES! The surprise that Lilly reveals tonight is that she was born by the river in a little town. Apparently just like that river, she's been running ever since. She sings her Sam Cooke very well, the judges scream with love, prompting a confused Randy to say "That's something we will never say about you, that you're unique, you're your own person." Huh? Oh well, she has silver hair.

KATELYNN EPPERLY: They give her a white grand piano, a miniskirt, and the "this is a moment" spotlights, and Katelynn delivers a really sweet Coldplay cover. Adequate as a mild but name brand mouthwash.

You know what does not make entertaining television? Watching someone do something on their IPhone. Like something really pedestrian and uninteresting. With their fingers in the screen saying, "I push this button, and then this thing happens, and then I push this button." It's like getting a video game tutorial from my 10-year-old son, an experience I have compared to being boiled in goat oil. If I don't have an IPhone, I don't care. And if I do, I already have figured out how to send a video with it. K?

PAIGE MILES: Paige relaxes by coloring. Literally coloring animals in a coloring book. With markers and crayons. Then she sells her nicely outlined , tidily-colored pictures on Etsy. Paige looks better than she did last week, but I think I've identified that it's the green contacts that are giving me the "I've actually been dead for weeks, look how fistfuls of my hair come out in my hands" vibe from her. Paige sings a Kelly Clarkson song that Kara wrote. The judges give a mixed review -- Kara indulges in a little "Hey, who wrote that? Oh, me? Right, me!" and points out that when she wrote it, she wasn't happy with the guy, so maybe Paige shouldn't be smiling. I realize that a lot of time has been spent tonight in debating whether these women are happy or not, if they should smile or not. If I cared, at all, I would be all -- did they ask the boys? whether they are happy people? or -- but wait, I don't care. At all.

SIOBHAN MAGNUS: Siobhan reveals that her method of warming up before the show is blowing raspberries. If that doesn't make the "Let's look back on your journey" clip montage, I don't know what will. Dressed like a second grade teacher doing a walk of shame (complete with a headband that might even relax Haeley), Siobhan sings "Think" by Aretha Franklin. She screams her way through it, mouth open, teeth flashing, hitting a note so far in the stratosphere that it instantly kills all the fairies in the room. The judges love her.

Let's look back at the weirdos in the competition, in reverse order: Siobhan Magnus, Lilly Scott, Crystal Bowersox. Then there are the boring people: Haeley, Lacey, Michelle, Paige. Regular people: Katie Stevens, Katelynn Epperly, Didi Benami. I think the boring people will go first, the weirdos will blow up at some later point, and it will be Katie Stevens standing there at the end. That's what I think.

What do the judges think? Well, just in case we forgot, because Crystal was first out of the gate tonight, they remind us specifically that like Crystal the best. Crystal, Crystal, Crystal. The judges will really cry when she goes home. They'll rant and stomp their little feet. But the teenaged girls of this fine land are not going to vote her into the finals. Consider that they're trying to get Lady Gaga to mentor -- can you see this field taking a crack at that catalog?

How do you relax? Have you ever bought a coloring book page off Etsy? What's in Lacey Brown's hair? Who won the week -- girls or boys?

Labels: american idol, recap, season 9, television

Breaking News! Crystal Bowersox was rushed to the hospital today, and cannot perform tonight! She cannot perform! Everything must change, and the universe must be restructured to accommodate this new information. Up is now down. Black is now white. Ellen is now a comedian. Kara is now a music industry insider. There are doctor's orders at work. This is official! Translation: We forced Crystal Bowersox to have dental surgery. She is still full of bruise and swell. Tomorrow, she will be sufficiently iced, but check her teeth! Do you dare gaze into the dental horror that is Crystal Bowersox's mouth? Let's go together. We don't have to stay long, just long enough to know the truth. Hold my hand. Don't look directly at the brown ones.

Fortunately there are 10 guys on the payroll, ready to perform tonight instead of Crystal and the Harridans -- and I'm sure the lack of rehearsal time and interruption to their schedule won't negatively effect them at all!

News! Kara got a spray tan. Good decision. If she had trotted out that bright red dress without turning on the tan, it would have been hard to take.

News! Ellen is doing a few jokes tonight! Real jokes, as if she were a comedian on a television show, trying to entertain an audience, instead of a wide-eyed regular guy off the street, just happy to be here, Ryan. Right, there is a reason that Ellen is on the show and it's not because of her blinding insights into the music industry. She can be funny -- if she can stop surpressing that, we might be able to figure out why she was added as a judge.

This week the contestants' interview segments will reveal something about themselves that we don't know. They will also extensively recap what happened on stage last week for us including bluetone taped segments of the judges' comments. Who needs these recaps? Was someone watching ice dancing during the show last week? Were you?

MICHAEL LYNCH: Michael's unknown secret is that he is really into musical theater, making him the first straight man to ever reveal this secret. He went to a performing arts high school and now he just loves to dance around on stage with his little shiny cane accessory, kicking up his heel accessories. Way to challenge my assumptions, there, Michael. You are just one giant man, full of cute surprises. He sings "This is a Man's World" by James Brown, with the stated objective of defining himself as a front man, not a supporting act as Simon described him last week. He's cute, and he does try hard, but he's kinda just goodish. The judges react as if he had just turned himself into a giant pile of money. Randy gives him a standing ovation. Ellen makes a JOKE! A REAL ONE, praising the song as "educational." She gets laughs. Kara calls him potentially "a great artist." Simon gets on the pimp train too. Ok, whatevs, but he will be slain in the theme weeks, srsly.

JOHN PARK: John tries to shock us in interview by sharing that he has only been speaking English since 4th grade, and his first language is Korean. This would be a surprising revelation if he didn't look so completely Korean. Like yeah, I was born in Michigan, are you going to frakin' die from shock now, or what? He has an acapella group called "Purple Haze" that is waiting anxiously to get their lead singer back, having long since given up on their collective manhood. John sings a very boring John Mayer song, sporting a white v-neck t-shirt, clearly aware of the source of his many votes. I am not in his demographic. At all. The judges praise him -- he is so much better than last week! Yawn.

CASEY JAMES: Casey's revelation is that he does not have a television. Instead he works on his house and tries out different hairstyles in the mirror, plucking a stray here, an eyebrow there, widening his eyes, narrowing them, opening his mouth really wide, closing it, going "WEEooWEEooWEEoo" and seeing what that looks like from the side, etc. While cavorting around in his rehearsal space, he shows us a mysterious box but quickly closes it, promising to reveal its contents only if he makes it to the top ten! Vote, girls! We want to find out what's in that medium-sized brown box, right?! Thank you, Casey. Last week I was bemoaning the lack of a reason to punch you in the face. Now, I have one. And maybe that's what was in the medium-sized brown box after all. A much-longed-for justification for scorn. Casey's rendition of "I Don't Want to Be" recalls Bo Bice, Chris Richardson, and everyone else who ever used it on the show. He pulls out some lead guitar, but no one really cares. Even Kara is unimpressed, saying he took "two steps back" tonight. Casey will not be going home, though. We must know what's in the box.

ALEX LAMBERT: Tonight Alex reveals that he has his own secret language that he made up in sixth grade. It sounds like fake "my ancestors are Cherokee" stuff like on Better Off Ted. He whines about his terrible stage fright, saying, "I get nervous that's not regular nervous. It's not even me any more nervous, it takes over my whole body." It takes over his body and styles his hair like Carole Brady*, puts on a plaid sport coat, vomits, writes a couple of bad checks, picks up a guitar and sings "Everybody Knows" by something or other. It was less of a disaster than last week. Randy praises his niche-finding. Ellen exhumes her banana analogy and praises his unique style (now the banana is ripe). Kara praises his recordable tone that producers would die for. Really? That twangy, coppery, whingy little voice? Ryan, experiencing a journalistic personal best, asks: "Would you be upset, like depressed, if you weren't on the show?" Alex: "Yeah, it's like, totally my dream right now, so yeah."

TODRICK HALL: Todrick is going to sing Tina Turner. Ryan asks Todrick why he's choosing another lady song after he got shouted at for picking a lady song last week. Todrick replies that he knows that he can change up the song just enough this time, and not repeat the mistakes he made last time. To be fair to Todrick, these contestants have been told again and again to pick a song and change it up, make it their own, just like David Cook and Adam Lambert. After some grainy footage of Todrick in tights dancing the Nutcracker, he sings "What's Love Got to Do With It?" all slowed down and breathy, with a weird tempo, weird rhythm, and a weird amount of fist-pumping. In other words, he does exactly what he did last week all over again. Ellen goes off her mission statement completely, and forgets to any anything funny. Kara criticizes his R&B runs. Randy tells him he changed the song too much. Simon tells him to quit singing.

JERMAINE SELLERS: Jermaine interviews that he wears footie pajamas because his father won't turn the heat on in their house. He complains cheerfully about the judges' comments last week, and comes off likeable. He emerges on the stage having shaved his hair up into an inexplicably rounded point. It's like he used the cover of a butter dish to mold his hair. Maybe he is trying to "change it up" and "make it his own" where "it" is the shape of a human skull and "his own" is a weird-ass hair tumor. To make matters not at all better, he is wearing a plaid bow tie, a spotted shirt, a grey cardigan, and jeans that look like he fell into a puddle of bleach. He sings "What's Going On" by Marvin Gaye with the same goofy, slippery vocals and sleazy eyebrow motions he pulled out last week. Everyone hates it.

The thing is, Todrick and Jermaine basically repeated their performances from last week. And got screamed at for it. But why should they not? Last week, they got enough votes to stay. Why change?

Back from the break, Randy warmly tells us, "Thank you for choosing Idol." Idol peanut butter? Idol for state senate? Idol = life?

ANDREW GARCIA: Andrew's secret is that he is a break dancer. He can spin around on the heel of his hand. He is singing, "You Give Me Something" by James Morrison. I've never heard the song before, and I probably haven't heard it now. However, it's not terrible. Without his guitar, sitting on the meaningful stool, bathed in a bank of blue spotlights, Andrew is completely believable as a kinda contemporary jazz guy. Likeable, if a little wobbly on pitch. The judges are meh.

AARON KELLY: It's time for the exploding fetus to reveal a secret about himself! What will it be? That he's secretly cooking two livers? He lisps to us apologetically that he really likes photography, and actually says the words, "It allows me to be myself in my pitchers. Nobody can tell me the right way or the wrong way to do it. I can do it just my way." Face to face with that kind of droopy, moronical optimism, I have no choice but to vomit flaming knives from my mouth, hair, fingers, and toes, and destroy the world with my fury. Sorry! But then, wait. Aaron's soft voice and blinking innocence lead me to believe, suddenly, that he is super gay. Now I feel bad talking about how he is a wet, dripping fetus clutching the microphone with his gelatinous unformed fingerbuds. But, I can't help what I know. He gives us "My Girl," singing and riffing through all the riffs and pauses, over an arrangement that couldn't be more diluted and Disneyfied. There was actually a pink and yellow sunburst radiating in and out on the LCD screen behind him. The judges liked it. Aaron giggles self-effacingly. So, yeah, he is a gelatinous, quavering, moist GAY fetus. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Except if you're on television. In which case, dry off.

TIM URBAN: What don't we know about Tim Urban? Surprise! He's one of the Duggars. Urban is just a stage name. Dammit! Now he will never get voted off. Tim reveals that before he squeaked out that whispering falsetto last week that he said a little prayer for help. He must have prayed to God to take his voice away and replace it with a handful of wet feathers and depressed beetles. Tonight he sings some crap like you probably heard when you were in college and you went to an open mike and some asshole with hair like Shawn Cassidy got up and danced behind the microphone like a middle school girl high on Fanta and orthodontic glue. Randy hates it. Ellen recommends that since he has no stage presence and no charisma, he should become an actor. But she meant it, like, not as a joke. Simon liked it. WHO CARES? The only reason Tim and Alex are still around is because the American teenaged girl likes her man limp, nervous, and licking his lips constantly.

LEE DEWYZE: Lee reveals his secret: He had to go to a school for juvenile delinquents for a while, and a teacher helped him turn his life around. Nice story -- I think I heard America give off a collective "Awww." Lee sings "Lips of an Angel" against the very significant night sky and stars background. He wears a blue t-shirt and jeans and manages to make it look like it doesn't matter. I liked it, the judges liked it, Lee is in the pimp spot, and I think he pretty much has it made into the top ten. I believe he will be dismissed at some point right before the end, basically following a Daughtry-esque plot progression into a career as a front man for a band, not a pop star.

Best Performances: Lee DeWyze and Andrew Garcia
Worst Performances: Jermaine Sellers and Aaron Kelly
Going Home: John Park and Tim Urban

*Carole Brady joke brought to you courtesy of my son's rockin' violin teacher, Mrs. V.

Labels: american idol, recap