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

When the show opens, the top 12 guys are standing at the edge of the stage as if ready to be shot to death with arrows. A pudgy Ryan Seacrest marches down the line, barking out threats and demands. Chest in, recruit! Scruffy chin out! Clearly under orders to ignore the camera, the "singers" look full of fear and polyester stuffing. They should be afraid. After all, the girls sucked big rotten mangoes last night and if these guys aren't careful, they'll be sucking on them too.

I actually do like a few of the contestants tonight. If I can maintain any level of respect or affection for any of them two hours from now, I'll be faint with shock. The judges predict nerves will rule the evening. Kara recommends that if they're nervous they find a place they're comfortable with. How about their garage? No? Nestled in their mama's bosom? No? Then it has to be the Idol stage. Sorry, Kara.

TODRICK HALL: Todrick's clothes are unremarkable: congratulations Todrick's clothes! He turns in a scant, nervous reinterpretation of Kelly Clarkson's "Since You've Been Gone," re-imagined as a Gwen Stefani style reggae song, like if "Sweet Escape" was sung by a nervous man who had been told to dance for his life. After demanding all night last night that they completely violate expectations and change up songs to fit their own style, the judges filet him for "making it his own." Simon called it "bordering on stupid." Ryan begs for votes based on creativity. Todrick's face says, "But I thought I was supposed to--" but then it's time to flash his numbers and move on, leaving Todrick's incredulous carcass blinking in shame.

AARON KELLY: Aaron Kelly is just a fetus still encased in an amniotic sac. He's the type of dripping, mucousy fetus that likes to wear jogging pants, a thin hoodie, and a gold necklace around its ropy, wobbly neck, but not tonight! Tonight, the moist and delicate Aaron is all cowboyed out in a flannel shirt and torn jeans, and sings "Here Comes Goodbye" by Rascal Flatts. He struggles along, straining away with his undeveloped lungs and his finger buds clutching that big heavy microphone. Panting, gasping, slipping, he hits the glory note hard and explodes. The judges like him. Ellen's critique: "Ditto to all that."

JERMAINE SELLERS: Jermaine interviews to remind us that he was the one who famously whined that the band messed him up on his last Hollywood solo. Then he sing "Get Here" in every key imaginable, with a whole lot of winking, nodding, sex-eye, and grinning. He is wearing a grey tuxedo coat over a cotton henley, with a satin rosette just like Granny used to make, and a black fedora with no brim. He looks like he was wearing a regular hat and then walked into a giant sander or something, scraping the brim right off it for a disconnected, disastrous effect. The judges hate him, and I also hate him. After the critique, Ryan asks Jermaine if he's made peace with Michael, meaning Michael from the band. Jermaine frowns and stutters, pricelessly, "Who's Michael?" Oh, really, who is Michael? He's the guy coming up on stage right now so spontaneously for this super-spontaneous moment of ha ha forgiveness, except that Jermaine is such a diva, he can't even laugh. What an idiot. Michael should stuff him into a compost pile.

TIM URBAN: Tim has a very catlike upper lip and also fangs, do you see this? And rained-on skater hair. In his photo shoot, he pulls a wacky-dacky pose jumping up in the air with his arms out. Like hey look at me with mah sweaty-sweaty armpits! And the gag is, he actually has big sweaty armpits! HA! Tim sings "Apologize" by One Republic, and the gag here is that he actually has, like, no falsetto register. At all. So it's like "It's too late to apologize! It's too late! It's too late to apologize! It's too late!" Where the greyed out words are actually little mouse squeaks. Recognize that there were multiple vocal coaches, producers, directors, and other bozos that okayed this song choice and this performance. The judges shred him and he admits it was a last minute switch. I thought Randy clarified last night that they weren't supposed to sing songs that made their voices sound bad. He should have mentioned this includes songs that they actually physically cannot sing because sounds that come out of mouths do not magically happen just because you really need them to. You have to make them down in your throat, and if the song calls for a sound that your throat cannot create, you end up standing their like a supreme doucheface, squeaking and wishing.

Hey, Edward Cullen is on Lost now!

JOE MUNOZ: If Ellen Degeneres was a small, Mexican man Joe Munoz would be that small Mexican man. As it is, he's just another black-eyed man the size of a jockey in a fringed scarf singing "You and I Both" by someone I don't know. He sings adequately, putting him right on the top of the pile for the night. Ellen congratulates him for being comfortable on stage, and surprises nobody by liking the performance. She says, "I think people are going to look at you and say 'He can sing, and he's comfortable on stage' and vote for you." Yeah, because here on American Old Sandals, we look for people who "can sing." Note: Joe is a lip-licker, and that will get more significant as the season wears on. I predict that by April, if I haven't killed myself yet and Joe is still on the show, I am recommending Clorox chapstick.

TYLER GRADY: Thank you, Tyler Grady, for being an actual entertainer. I enjoyed your fun, relaxed rendition of "American Woman" and I think the audience did too. No winking, no glory notes, no runs, no nerves. It sounded good, he worked the stage, and he was as authentic as a person singing a 45 second song can be. I think the main reason I hated him in the audition shows was that his skin was so relentlessly freakin' shiny that it hurt my eyes. The judges told him he was all style and no substance, and demand that he brings it into this decade. Because they haven't spent weeks telling people to know who they are and stay true to that. Tyler doesn't look too bothered, but promises he will go to the mall if voted through. Great.

LEE DEWYZE: Lee looks apologetic, as usual, for breathing the air. He is a constipated, resentful version of Elliot Yamin -- remember that guy? Lee sounds pretty cool for about half of his performance of "Chasing Cars." If you close your eyes you can almost forget he's a hunchy little troll. I can see him singing something Daughtry-ish, but I can also see him grabbing a bone from the carcass in the road and scampering back under the the porch to gnaw on it. All of the judges but Simon chastise him. Lee stands there pulling on the hem of his shirt like a dork. Shifting from foot to foot, he then charms the hair clips off America with his unpretentious answers to Ryan's dumb questions -- he is having the best time of his life and he never wants this feeling to end. I almost start to think he's kind of cool, and that his story arc will involve him coming out of this shirt-pulling shell and being a star. Then I feel manipulated and resentful, and I snarl at passers-by.

JOHN PARK: John sings "God Bless the Child." As Ryan announces it, I feel like calling out... No, John, no. You must not sing that song! How could it work? I don't know what I was expecting to come out of his mouth when he opened it, but what did come out was something bad. Something bizarre-o, because John Park has absolutely no accent when he is speaking. What happened to him when he sang was a mystery. It almost sounded like someone with a thick Asian accent trying to sing really jazzy black slang. The judges absolutely hate it (except Ellen, who would like it if the contestants squeezed a glop of poo out the bottom of their pants and then sat on it). John shames them by sharing that for him, the song is about his parents, and how they worry about money, and how the reason he is here is because of that song. Ok, he doesn't have to go home this week.

MICHAEL LYNCHE: Big Mike! The guy who skipped the birth of his child to compete in American Idol! This competition must mean everything to him! Enough that he certainly wouldn't show up on stage in a western shirt and jeans and tennis shoes. Oops, seems not. He sings "This Love" by Maroon 5, playing a tiny guitar which we never ever hear. He got through it just fine, and he reads as likeable and cool. The judges ask him to challenge himself more, and say that he shouldn't get cocky. When Simon criticizes him, he snaps back, "Aowww!" then threatened to give Simon some of his arm muscle. Standing next to Big Mike, Ryan Seacrest doesn't look so puffy. Big Mike will be back next week.

ALEX LAMBERT: Alex looks like the male version of that smelly hippie Crystine Bowsentowler, but instead of her ballsy attitude, he's got tulips for testicles. His goal is to show people that he can perform, as he puts it, that he is "able to." He sings "Wonderful World" which has the worst lyrics ever for an American Idol song pick. Check it:

I've been down so low
People look at me and they know
They can tell something is wrong
Like I don't belong

Staring through a window
Standing outside, they're just too happy to care tonight
I want to be like them
But I'll mess it up again

I tripped on my way in
And got kicked outside, everybody saw...

And I know that it's a wonderful world
But I can't feel it right now
Well I thought that I was doing well
But I just want to cry now

Yeah. Great lyrics! Who in their right mind would sing this song in a competition? It's like Eeyore's theme song. Bah. Alex looks miserable, hunches up his shoulders, lags behind the beat, and in general dies an awful death on the stage. No joy, no confidence. Ellen compares him to an unripe banana. Alex gives props to the band and reveals this is the third or fourth time he's ever sung in front of people. Endearing but sucky.

CASEY JAMES: Who doesn't want Casey James to do well? He's cool, he's hot, he's a good singer. He has given us no reason to punch him in the face yet, right? He sings "Heaven" by Bryan Adams, sitting on a stool with his guitar (which we can actually hear), and delivers a very decent performance. Yes, he took off his shirt in his audition. Yes, he's had his hair highlighted. Yes, he pronounces it "Lying here in my yarms," but for now I want to believe, okay? I want to believe. The show plays up the whole "Kara is in love with Casey" meme, and Ellen admits that he's going to get votes no matter what, almost admitting that it doesn't matter what he sings. Yes, he will get votes. Casey has a Sawyer thing going on, and a natural swagger. He is hard not to like. GOOD JOB, CASEY. For now, I am on your side.

ANDREW GARCIA: Full disclosure: I really liked this guy coming in. He's rough, cool, short, and looks like the birth control glasses are in this case not an affectation. He sings "We're Going Downtown Sugar" by Fallout Boy. I think the key could be a little lower, the song was a little repetitive, and in general the mix was a little light on bass, but I still like him. The judges like him too, and forgive all in memory of the day he played "Straight Up" by Paula Abdul.

Folks, this week was awful. This is the point in American Idol where we the people always say, "This was really the best you could come up with?" All those stadiums full of people, all those wails and riffs in Hollywood, and these 24 people are really the greatest unsigned vocalists in America? And we scoff and scorn. Luckily, we know that as the competition wears on, we will grow to hate some of them even more, and our current state of bewildered apathy will turn into a fine point of disgust and scorn. Something to look forward to.

Best Performances: Casey James and Lee Dewyze
Worst Performances: Aaron Kelly and Tim Urban
Going Home: Jermaine Sellers and Alex Lambert

Labels: american idol, idol, recap, television

AMERICA! IT'S OUR TURN! TO TAKE THE REINS! OMG! ANOTHER SEASON OF AMERICAN IDOL!

The first segment of tonight's American Idol plays on a weird edge, as if someone moved up the broadcast time by half an hour and didn't tell anyone on set until thirty seconds before they were live. Like someone yanked Randy out of the bathroom and Ryan was off camera tying his shoes. Ellen is scripted to worry about Simon's grabby hands, complete with a "roll tape!" You guys had months to come up with Ellen's first joke, and this was it? Awkward. And boring.

News: There are a bunch of women. Tonight they are going to sing. Are you freakin' kidding me? This is awesome news, and I LOVE THIS SHOW!

Paige Miles: Paige is wearing the first fashion disaster of the season: a lacy homecoming funeral dress with a wide silver leather belt. She has been made up like a zombie, grey paste all over her face, including her lips. Really, I think the makeup artist hates her -- she couldn't possibly look worse if she went and pulled out a handful of whatever is in the drainspout and used it as foundation. She sings "All Right Now" by Free, virtually unaccompanied due to a mixing glitch, or maybe someone quietly laid a large marshmallow directly on top of the band.

The microphone is super sparkly.

Ashley Rodriguez: Ashley looks pretty cool in a white gold jacket, white gold shoes, and fantastically sheer pink lip gloss. Again with no band in evidence, she's just trying to be "Happy" by Leona Lewis. Kara identifies Leona Lewis as the Mariah Carey of "our generation." Eh? Kara is 39. Mariah Carey is 39. Ashley Rodriguez is 21. Leona Lewis is 24. So while Leona Lewis might be the Mariah Carey of Ashley's generation, I'm sorry to report to Kara that the Mariah Carey of her generation (and mine) is... Mariah Carey.

I already forgot both the first two girls. Who were they again?

Janell Wheeler: Janell sings "What About Love?" by Heart and does fine, considering no one can hear the band! Can you not hear the band either, or is it just me? Maybe they're doing this on purpose, so we can really hear the vocals, without the benefit of that pesky instrumentation? Maybe the style in Kara's generation is to have your backing band sound like they're under a dirty mattress, not even trying to get out?

Ryan asks the judges to pontificate about song choice, and Randy suggests the contestants not sing songs that will make their voices sound bad. Brilliant. Look, if anybody doesn't get by now that the way to choose songs that suit your voice is to choose a song that has nothing to do with your voice and then warp the key signature, time signature, volume, and tempo until it is completely unrecognizable, they have not been watching the show. You don't get props from the judges by singing songs. You get props by reinventing songs. We are only waiting to see who from this season will be our exciting reinventor. Which brings us too...


Lilly Scott: Lilly Scott reminds me of that whore character that Rachel Dratch played on 30 Rock. You know, the one that said, "HAPPY VALENTIMES!" Also, she has hair extensions hanging from her ears. Lilly sings "Fixing a Hole" by the Beatles. She oversings it a bunch, but her voice is the only one so far that can stand up to this empty mix -- unaccompanied she's just fine. The judges liked it. I get that she's cool and she sings on pitch, but they go on and on about how different, how authentic, how unique she is. People, she is not original. The judges love the fact that she's indie. Randy points out that while she sounds like Duffy and Lily Allen, it's okay because that's actually who she is. So, when you're blindingly original in a completely derivative way, that means you're authentic. Or something. Lilly makes the "I need glasses" face. Does she look like Tracy Ullman or Rachel Dratch? Tracy Ullman or Rachel Dratch?

Katelynn Epperly: Katelynn hasn't decided whether to cover that mole on her forehead or just let it ride. Some of her interview shots she's tried to cover it, sometimes not. Tonight it is out in full force, like a beacon of authenticity in a world of Duffy wannabes. Except she looks like a young, tarted-up Bernadette Peters. Someone needs to tell Katelynn that you have to spend a lot of money on red lipstick for it to actually be red. Hers is pinked out. She sings "Oh Darlin" by the Beatles with a whole lot of fake angst. She delivers it adequately, despite the fact that half a crow is burrowing into her hair during the performance. Ellen actually says the words, "I liked it a lot." What the hell is the purpose of having judges, seriously? "I liked it a lot"???

Haeley Vaughn: Haeley sings a Disney channel slash porno version of "I Want to Hold Your Hand" wearing a shorted-off wedding dress, complete with a little veil holding thinger in her head and lace white tights. This is definitely *the* visual of the evening, wow. She never stops smiling, through the entire interview segment, song, and critique. Kara responds by calling her "pure." I hated the performance more than anything I've seen on television in the last twenty years. Her chin-digging, the shiny red guitar she couldn't really play -- she sounded and looked like she was on Barney. It made me want to kill everyone in the room and then die myself. Ellen says, "Speaking as someone who likes music, I enjoyed it." Simon agrees with me -- THANK GOD.

Lacey Brown: Wearing a tablecloth over black leggings, a plastic Lacey Brown doll and her lone vapid backup singer massacre Fleetwood Mac's "Landslide." They slip and slide around every single note up and down the scale like a couple of limp trombones. It was sickly and sad, riddled with the kind of knowing, you-and-me-baby eye contact that contestants seem to think will provoke people to vote. Her lip gloss looks fantastic though. Do we have to hear from every judge? It's like a chore getting through them all, takes much longer than the performance itself.

Michelle Delamor: She interviews that the most exciting thing about this experience is that her family is there with her. Maybe her family normally ignores her or runs away from her when she comes near. Must be special, getting all this attention from them. She sings "Falling" by Alicia Keyes, and it sounds like someone has fixed the mix a little bit, but it's still deadly boring. I don't remember anything about her from Hollywood week or auditions... do you? She certainly has a lot of teeth. The judges give mild praise.

Didi Benami: She fondly remembers singing "Terrified" for Kara, and reports cutely that her Idol journey has been emotional and spiritual. Gross! She needs her head slammed in a book, before she can experience one more inchoate emotion. She sings "The Way I Am" by Ingrid Michaelson, and she's wearing a crocheted rainbow vest. Sounds comfortable, quirky, and for once a little understated -- I actually like it. Simon accuses her of trying to sound like Duffy, and misses a spark. Then we make our death march down the line of judges where they all say the same thing, one after the other, all down the line. Why do we have four judges? We could just have four barking dogs, or four people leaping into different colored pools of water, or four bells ringing. It would be faster.

Siobhan Magnus: Throughout the audition process, she was unbeautiful, long on teeth and short on polish. She cleans up, however, pretty well in a black shirt dress, with a magnolia behind her ear. Someone has taken a stern stance on her eyebrows and attacked them with a mower. She sings "Wicked Game" by Chris Isaak, which shows remarkable restraint, and she pulls it out like a pro. There was almost no audible back-up, but it's okay. Nothing to be ashamed of in this performance, and that's saying something.

Crystal Bowersox: Crystal interviews that the reason someone as obviously cool as she is deigned to try out for a low, greasy-hamburger-and-fries show like American Idol, even though she's all indy and shit and awesome and can like play the harp and has dreads, is because she has a son. She adds, "Mama needs a bigger paycheck." She sings "One Hand In My Pocket" by Alanis Morisette, and right in the middle she gasps and pulls on the harmonica some. Simon calls her bullshit, and points out there are 10,000 girls capable of doing that song that way. He recommends she do something original, and she whines that the show doesn't allow originals. Then everyone on the show falls down at her feet and froths and foams, begging her forgiveness and promising to change their whole format to accommodate her. Simon rushes off to consult with another executive, and when he comes back, they let her win the show, right now, tonight, just because she is so real. Or, they ignore her comment and tell her to sing David Bowie. Oh piss me a river, dreadlots. You sold your soul; don't pretend you still own your music.

Katie Stevens: Katie reminds us that she is young, has a grandmother, and that we care about her. It wouldn't be the semifinals without am attempted haunting via heartfelt rendition of "You Know How I Feel" by Michael McBubble, so here we go. Katie tries winking and shoulder-shaking, and it looks like a middle schooler doing karaoke. If I'm listening to her, it's not that ridiculous, but as soon as I open my eyes, I'm ready to decapitate her. It was cutesy, weird, and ultimately it was unbrave, and that's what was wrong with it. It was timid. Simon calls it pageanty, but Kara points out that if she'd killed the song, he wouldn't be saying that. That's true. She didn't kill it.

This has been another show on my television. Now, vote for your favorite.

Here is something I must say: Ellen follows everything with "You're great." Ellen should be fired right away. She's not funny, she's not insightful, she keeps on talking. Also, if you want to hear how the show was supposed to be mixed, listen to the reminder clips at the end of the show -- they have the balance right at last.

Best performance: Didi Benami and Siobhan Magnus
Worst performance: Haeley Vaughn and Lacey Brown
Going home: Paige Miles and Michelle Delator

Labels: american idol, recap, television

It's baby picture night as the Idols sing hits from the year they were born. In a long, awkward, interesting-only-to-them sequence, we see baby pictures of the judges and Ryan. Wow, embarrassing. They used to be BABIES, everyone! Tee hee! Babies! What, no mentors again? Doesn't any other aging superstar have an album to pimp? No?



DANNY GOKEY: Danny sings a 1980 version of "Stand By Me" -- cheater. It's Lite FM all the way, first with strings and then with wo-wo-wos and bongos. Paula is dancing! The screen behind him matches his shirt! He's almost scatting, and I don't mean jazz stylings, I mean what you call bear poop when you're hanging out with Aragorn. The judges reused their comments from the last four shows. Danny Gokey is so awesome!

KRIS ALLEN: Kris' mother opines mysteriously, "We'd be just as happy as if his dream was to be a taxi cab driver." Unpack THAT sentence, Seacrest. Kris is going to sing "All She Wants to Do is Dance." Am I officially old when I can remember roller skating to the songs from the years these kids were born? Whatever. Kris has planted himself in the middle of the crowd just like Matt Giraud did last week, so there's a little knot of excited, brightly-lit women clustered around him and his electric guitar. In spite of all this pheromonic activity, the song is utterly bloodless. Kara says it sounds like "jazz funk homework" -- for once, I find her very perceptive. Paula calls him likeable. OUCH.

LIL ROUNDS: Lil takes her tape time to clarify that her name is Lil Rounds. Revelatory. Then she emerges in a leather vest and completely ridiculously amazing shoes and proceeds to rip the bowels out of "What's Love Got to Do With It?" After she's gutted it, the band drains its blood and leaves it in a mall parking lot. The arrangement sounds like the background music for a puzzle video game, you know one where the shapes fall peacefully from the top of the screen and little colored baubles congregate or quietly explode or disappear or whatever. Paula didn't like it, called it karaoke. Simon called it copycat, and said we've lost Lil.

ANOOP DESAI: Anoop apologizes onstage for the completely shocking and offensive behavior he exhibited last week during his critique. Wait, I don't remember anything about this, and I was there, oh, was I there? He says he was not being himself and he is just mortified and ashamed. Nobody seems to remember it, even Kara, who was the victim of his forgettable transgression. Anoop sings Cyndi Lauper in a spring green cardigan. It's "True Colors" but as if John Mayer was singing it, with John Mayer's nose stuffed with chewing gum. Whatever. The judges like it. Really, not a bit of that song was in tune. Paula: "You did show your true colors, and it was like a rainbow." Wow.

Hey, fuckers, don't vote til the end of the show! Or we'll come after you!

SCOTT MCINTYRE: Scott appears with an electric guitar and an amp, and sings, "The Search is Over" by Survivor, from 1985. Okay, American Idol, I give up. You found me. At least you found where I was at 13. I love this song, and I always will, and it has to do with a very intense tweeny crush and high school gym class, and this is not something I can control or explain, okay? It's irrational, like most of high school was. This song, on the radio, can still make me get all kinda dreamy and faraway. OKAY I ALSO FEEL THIS WAY ABOUT "THE GLORY OF LOVE" BY PETER CETERA. Now you know. So go ahead and poke a stick in my soft, fluffy underbelly. Scott's guitar-playing is awful and the mix is so dire the twangy guitar sound just kind of sits on top of the rest of the band. The judges hate it, and I think, now, that Scott should definitely win this whole show.

ALLISON IRAHETA: I didn't listen to Allison's tape, I was too busy trying to ascertain if it's really been 24 years since that Survivor song was a hit. Ow. She appears with freshly pinked-out hair and sings "I Can't Make You Love Me" by Bonnie Raitt -- a dangerous song choice for someone who's spent a little time in the bottom three recently. This is one of those songs it's easy to go out singing. Yet year after year they always sing it. The arrangement is elderly, the delivery is rough, the song is boring and inappropriate. The judges rave and scream about how original she is, how she reminds them of Kelly Clarkson, how she made it her own, how it was so young and vibrant. Allison looks confused, as if she knows something's fishy in this pond. Kara says, and I quote, "Let's go make a record!"

MATT GIRAUD: The funnest words ever: "Let's go back to 1985 and learn a little bit more about Matt!" Actually, it does turn out to be funny: We see footage of Matt being a saucy angel in a school play. What a little eye-roller! Then he sings "Part Time Lover" by Stevie Wonder. More scatting, this time in a fedora. Randy says, "Vocally, one of the best of the night." Faint praise, considering what's come before him. Paula and Kara make up for it by screaming and fist-pumping and stampeding around their desk making wildebeest noises. Gross.

There's only one Idol left! The only one that matters. Unfortunately my DVR cut off at 9:01 and I do not know what Adam Lambert did or did not do. It's a pimp spot backfire! Classic!

Best performance: I'm tempted to say Adam Lambert but my honest heart demands that I say Scott McIntyre. Come on, did anyone else have a special memory attached to this miserable excrescence of a song? Dammit.

Worst performance: Anoop Desai

Going home: Allison Iraheta

Labels: american idol, recap, summary, television, top eight

Without any fanfare, the Golden Globes are on! No musical number, no host, no montage, just presenters trying to shut up the diners guzzling champagne at their big round tables. Jennifer Lopez takes the stage in a golden diaper. Dear J-Lo, when you broke out in the Grecian goddess look the first time, we all applauded. The second time, we thought, hey, cool, it's her thing. Now, many years later, gazing upon your slicked back hair and your draped pelvis, we're tired of it. Maybe you could do something else. I suggest high tech. Hey, the Golden Globes are in HD! It's awesome! Amy Adams looks completely perfect and adorable and dewy. She looks about 12!

Best Supporting Actress, Movie: I pick: Amy Adams, and I swear she said she was 17! Winner: Kate Winslet. Kate Winslet is aging beautifully. She also looks completely buff and thin. She reads well from a white piece of paper. Her husband is hairy in the face, and looks like he realizes how lucky he is. Oh my goodness! I didn't realize she was married to Sam Mendes. She addresses her children, and it's cute.



Sting is introduced as a composer and social activest. He is similarly hairy in the face. Dan says, "It's Grizzly Sting."

Best Original Song: I pick Bruce Springsteen. Winner: Bruce Springsteen. Bruce and Sting awkwardly hug and Bruce giggles. Is that Mickey Rourke in a pimp costume? Mickey Rourke is wearing, and I am not kidding, purple satin and sequins, nails filed into points, and blonde streaks on nutbrown hair. Mickey Rourke has lost his mind.

Best Supporting Actor, TV Comedy: My pick: Anyone but Jeremy Pivens. Winner: That British guy that always plays the dad in stuff, for his portrayal of Thomas Jefferson in some TV movie. You remember him, he was Mr. Dashwood.

Best Supporting Actress, TV Drama: My pick: Anyone but that girl from Treatment. Not Diane Wiest, the other one. Winner: Laura Dern. Laura Dern takes the stage in a really pretty and modest homecoming dress, hair as fabulous as a kindergarten teacher at lunch. I mean, seriously, I think she has a scrunchy in her hair.

You know what? Burn After Reading was not that great. Brad Pitt's surprise violence was the highlight of the movie. Not to give things away but when a man's face getting punched and shot is the bright spot of a film, you are one step ahead of a fart movie.


Tonight, there are two types of neck. Those adorned with nothing but the modest sweat of a proud female whose earnest work has paid out in honor, and those thick with massive ropes of jewelry. The jewels are IN. We want big chokers, drizzly Egyptian style necklaces. Beyonce Knowles' necklace is like a big diamond daisy with her head being the slick, fruity stamen, and we LOVE IT. Steven and Marty agree, okay? We are over the "economic downturn" look. Except for you, J-Lo. You need to step away from the body shimmer.

Best Supporting Actor, TV Drama: My pick: Anyone on earth but Gabriel Byrne. Winner: Gabriel Byrne. I'm so sorry, people but I freakin' hate that show. Treatment, you know what you did, and I hope you're sorry. Gabriel Byrne isn't even there to pick up his award for looking emotionally constipated. What a blow to the art of film-making.

Best Actress, TV Drama: My pick: Whichever one is not in the audience and therefore cannot speak. Winner: Anna Paquin. I've never seen any of these shows. Now I have been bored into a coma by Anna Paquin's navy blue "gown" and her refusal to wear neck jewelry. Nothing is working for her -- the shape of her head, the kindergarten-picture-seagull eyebrows, the gap in the teeth, the weirdly orange "gold" cuff bracelet.

Um, I just saw Drew Barrymore in the audience. She looks like an angel wearing a cloud. Drew, I love you.



Outstanding Animated Feature: My pick: Wall-E. Winner: Wall-E. So deserved! Wall-E was awesome. Not to say that I didn't deeply enjoy Kung Fu Panda. I did. But Wall-E was beautiful. The director says, "I love you to my family and my kids. You inspire every emotion that I try to capture on screen." That's kind of nice!

Best Actress in a Comedy Movie: Wow, Johnny Depp looks young again. I guess he is over the haunted meth addict look. Emma Thompson looks rather radiant too. She is probably still on the meth though. You know Emma. I'm so distracted by Johnny Depp's youthful appearance that I forget to make a pick, but that girl from Happy Go Lucky wins it. She seems delightfully pleased. She's wearing a giant skirt with one of those meshy leotardy tops. Everyone's makeup looks so wonderful; I love the HD! Also the very close, strange, realistic sound. Emma Thompson looks beautiful and happy in a nice shawl. Marisa Tomei looks hectic in a sort of cardigan.

Jake Gyllenhaal has no blood in his face. He looks like he shot someone and he's scared we'll notice. Go home, Jake. Hide the body.

Wow, Drew Barrymore is now presenting. She looks completely fantastic. I think she's presenting something about TV, but the misty blue layers of her dress, so fluffy and yet so fitted, are too beguiling. I cannot care or notice what she's saying. There does seem to be some kind of skeletal husk, maybe a future echo of her own dear self, but clad in black and with more veins on her forehead, standing beside her. It speaks occasinoally. Tom Hanks accepts an award.

Look! It's Demi Moore! We all know now that this is a dress that made Rachel Zoe die. She dies, right? It's so bananas that she died. Do you die? She died, because Demi killed it. There's a kind of leash wrapped around her throat with grommets in it. I fail to die. I'm sure it looked better on a giraffe in fashion week.

Best Supporting Actor, Comedy: Heath Ledger wins. And he is dead. I'm sure he will appreciate the standing ovation. I know I do. Everyone loves honoring a dead guy with an award. It makes the whole thing seem so damn meaningful. Here's my cold confession: I didn't think he did that great of a job as the Joker. Sorry, it had to be said. The person accepting the award said, "After Heath passed on, you see a hole ripped in the future of cinema." Okay, yes, Brokeback Mountain. But also... A Knight's Tale. Okay? Some of us do remember.

Hi! It's Tom Brokaw!

Hi! It's Maggie Gyllenhaal in a chiton made out of blue leopard print. I am not even kidding. I wish I could say that it was not chiton made of blue leopard or that she did not have robin's egg blue eye shadow on or some kind of grapes dangling from her ears.



Laura Linney has won something. She is firmly in the Drew Barrymore camp of gauzy and fitted floaty gowns. Hers is butter yellow. She looks actually completely awesome. The other one who looked pretty darn young and radiant was Catherine Keener.

Best Screenplay: Dr. Dorian's girlfriend is presenting from the "jeweled choker, yo, economy bite my botts!" camp. She's wearing a faux chenille gown with a corset top. Totally gross. But she has one of those lovely plastic-looking cleavages. I have to say I'm completely impressed with how great everyone looks in HD. For the record, I completely don't know what any of those movies were or who won.

AMY POEHLER IS PRESENTING! You can't spell presenting without REPRESENT! Okay, well, you can, but I love her.

Best Actor, TV Comedy: Nominated are Alec Baldwin and Steve Carrell and David Duchovny and two other dumb guys. ALEC BALDWIN WINS! AND BEATS MONK! Alec Baldwin absolutely should have won, this was fairness on a biscuit, if only for that scene where he plays all of the family members of Tracy Morgan, all at the same time. That scene was my super fave.

Renee Zellwegger presents, wearing a Morticia Adams style gown and a spiderweb on her head. No, we will not take you seriously as a goth. It is not stately. It is not glam. Rethink it.

Best Actor, something something: Apparently, this "Recount" movie was really big. Super. Yet Paul Giamatti wins for playing John Adams. Was this some kind of miniseries or something?

Best TV Series Comedy: Glenn Close is presenting in a gold brocade Japanese top and gold pants. It's like if Jennifer Lopez' outfit went off to the senior center to have a swim and some clever seventy-year-old amazed all her teeth-clacking friends by sewing it into a pantsuit. Winner: 30 Rock. Tina Fey looks like Liz Lemon would look. Tracy Jordan speaks for the show, announcing that Tina Fey agreed to make him the show spokesman if Barack Obama won. He sounds like Tracy Jordan would sound. Oh, it's all so just.

I feel like I want to take a break and watch something else for a while. I mean, are we really discussing the relative charms of Mamma Mia and a movie about the Holocaust? Pierce Brosnan is completely drunk. Too drunk to read. Meryl Streep does a cannonball into the ocean.

Best Soundtrack: Slumdog Millionaire. Wow, people are standing! Who is this guy? He looks so small, and yet, he causes such a stir. Sorry, small Indian man, but pulling out an index card makes me push fast forward.

Best Actress TV Comedy: Christina Applegate is wearing a beautiful, beautiful, amazing necklace. It's flowers, in a chain, irregularly sized, assymetrical, and kind of gold/silver. Beautiful. You know whose hair I want? I want Mary Louise Parker's hair. I wonder how long it takes her to get that just-fought-a-war-in-the-wind look? I love it. Tina Fey wins, and now has to speak. She's wearing a dress cut down to her waist with a shawl collar around the back that looks like a robot part. She is a funny lady.

I fell asleep for a moment and missed something. Someone directed something, but look! Here is Sigourney Weaver. She has very stiff, very purposefully frayed bob, and she's wearing a dress like you might wear to a museum luncheon, except it's two feet too long.

Best Actor Movie Comedy: Sandra Bullock wears a faux chenille chiton in white. No neck jewels. Colin Farrell wins. He's holding onto the kitten head hairdo with both hands, people. It may have gone out with 90210 but he's never giving in.

Penelope Cruz is wearing taupe. Hey, hold on. Can you think of one person, one measeley little feeble person who wore an actual color tonight? It's all about the cream, the white, the black... can we we find any color in the crowd?

Best Picture Comedy: Winner: Vicky Christina Barcelona. Congratulations Woody Allen! Hey, Woody Allen directing that huge airgun guy from No Country for Old Men -- I have to see this movie. Javier! You slay me! It looks like I want to see Slumdog Millionaire too.



Best Actress Movie Drama: Well HELLO Cameron Diaz in pink! A warm pink, even rose. Who cares that her hair looks blue/grey! She presents with Mark Wahlberg. Winner: Kate Winslet. How nice! She hugs her hair husband and cries. Does this mean she won the best supporting *and* the best actress? No one can believe it! Her nose is turning red! No, don't cry! Read your little paper! Ooo, when she was mentioning the other nominees she forgot Angelina Jolie and then said, "Oh, God, who's the other one!?" Hahaha. Now she's telling Leonardo DiCaprio how much she loves him. It's all very breathless.

Best Somethingorother on TV: Madmen! Never seen it, no idea what it's about, don't care. Someone wearing red is onstage though -- red tulle no less. Oh, it's Zoe Bartlett! How pale of her. Well, I shouldn't complain. I did ask for color. Good for me -- I got it in the freakin' eye.

Best Actor Movie Drama: Hold me, they're showing Mickey Rourke again! Oh, CRAP -- he won. I'm trying to stuff myself under the sofa at this point. He literally FELL up the stage. Fell as in drunkenly, folks. Okay, now if we must, we can truly analyze the outfit. Black sequinned scarf. Purple satin lapeels on a velvet sport coat. Amber plastic glasses. Greasy hair with blonde streaks. Moustache and tiny goatee. Faux tan. Brown silk pocket square. He is using bad grammar on purpose. And the chisel that split my skull was one of those wallet chain things, attached to his belt buckle and winding around to his ass. Oh, the pain. The pain of it all. He keeps saying "balls" and "son of a bitch" and referencing his recent down-and-out status. We get it. You've been through the wringer and you came out in purple and black sparkles. Glorious.

Best Picture Drama: Slumdog Millionaire.

END. I have a few images embedded above. For more, go see the official gallery.

Labels: golden globes, movies, recap, television

The stage is silent. The theater is supposed to be empty. Two Davids stand in the dark facing each other. Cook is dressed the way they dress God in those irony flicks. Archuleta wears nothing but a starched diaper. Seacrest leaps to center stage, the lights come up, the crowd roars, and we begin our last results show. As he says "THIS" the two Davids whip their heads around to face the cameras. Wow. And I thought last night was ridiculous.

Let's talk about last night for just a moment: The producers tried, didn't they? They tried to inject a little testosterone into this "battle" between these "boys." Ultimately, however, they are just two weeping, waxy, puling kittens in a shiny basket.

Tonight the judges are wearing Coca-Cola red! The big production number at the beginning showcases the top 12 all in white, supported by last year's top ten from So You Think You Can Dance. I don't even know what song they're singing -- I am blinded by all the earnest well-meaning youth parading around the stage. Next, the two finalists sing a duet to that song about how they say that a hero will save us, but they're not going to stand there and wait.

Well, we've pimped our next talent show (starting tomorrow night!), now it's time to pimp Mike Myers' new movie, "The Love Guru." Pimp that movie, finalists. Pimp that movie, Ryan. The pimping takes forever and is not at all funny. Very awkward, very polite. It *is* funny, though, when Ryan sits down on the guru's remote control magic carpet and some clever operator in the wings drives it fast right up to the edge of the stage and gives Ryan a heart attack. That is funny. I'm afraid Mike Myers has taken a bit of a bowel movement on this new movie though.

Seal and Syesha sloppily sing a song that is possibly called "I have been waiting for you". They politely dance next to each other. Both the duets so far have been extremely messy and ill-rehearsed. Jason Castro reprises his performance of "Hallelujah" on the meaningful moment stool. What weird, tremulous camera angles we get! In one shot, we look right up his nose, past the "on" light on the microphone, and for a second it was almost as if his shaking, sweating hands were comign right at my face. YUCK.

Smile and buy a FORD! The pimpmercial this week takes the form of an outtakes reel from pimpmercials from days gone by. Yah, we don't care to buy your terrible automobile.

David and David have changed clothes again and Ryan gives them the keys to matching Escape Hybrids.

the girls, in red, sing "Works Hard for the Money' and other tunes by Donna Summers. Amanda Overmyer is in droid mode. I think she does not feel confident with the choreography. All of them seem just a little bit tense. But WAIT! Behind those completely inexplicable break dancers, it's the REAL DONNA SUMMERS! She wants us to stomp our feet on the ground. Her microphone is really glittery. Even Ryan Seacrest has to obey, as he peels off his jacket and joins the head-spinning break dancers stage right. Incredible. Now she's singing Last Dance and the girls are parading about. What is WRONG with Amanda Overmeyer? Is she bitter or just drunk? Even on the final pose, a nice fist-pump for disco, she kind of limply extends a wrist as if it's hurting her. BRING IT, AMANDA. You bought this donkey, now you have to ride it home, no matter how bad it stinks.

Wasn't there already a Hulk movie?

Carly Smithson and Michael Johns sing "The Letter." As in "my baby done wrote me a letter." This is the only performance so far that I like. Yes, it's shouty and cheesey, but at least they look like they're human. And having fun. Ryan takes this opportunity to remind us that we can see these people on tour this summer. Neat.

Jimmy Kimmel does some stand-up. He ends with, "May God bless our next American Idol, whoever he may be."

Time for the guys to do their group number. Hey remember that guy that was a gay stripper! They do "Back in the Summer of 69" and Michael does so well on it! The others sound ridiculous singing this song, but Michael really should have done this when he was on the show. OOP! SURPRISE! It's the real Bryan Adams! he looks a little wild and homeless and a little like Lance Armstrong auditioning for The Traveling Wilburys. Little pitchy, there, Bryan Adams. Tom Petty you ain't. Ghastly, overall. The first 15 seconds, when it was just Michael Johns singing the first verse of "Summer of 69", were quite good. The rest dire.

Hey, everybody, it's Jordin! In a hot pink dress she introduces us to the idea of an American Idol Experience at Disney World. Did I not predict this time last year that Disney and American Idol would form an unholy alliance over this fresh-faced teen?

David Cook and ZZ Top sing "Sharp Dressed Man." David does much better in front of a rock band than he does as a soloist, but the song goes on too long. He doesn't have the intensity for a lead singer. All his intensity leaks out his droopy stance. Thank god, not an ironic banker vest in sight tonight, though. I just think he needs a bit more license. More slam.

Brooke White sings "Teach Your Children Well" with Graham Nash. Wow, a giant swollen toe is sticking out from under her gown -- is she barefoot? Gross. Okay, you can sing a hippie song with a wooden guitar dumped in your lap, but you can't do it without shoes.

Okay, I am pretty sure I just saw a Guitar Hero commercial with David Cook sporting the Best Look in the World, as defined by Andy Sandberg on SNL. No blurred bits, but, too much for me.

Next to perform is a curly-headed boy band. Ryan lets the women in the crowd introduce them, and then don't articulate clearly, so I don't know who they are. I don't want to know, either. They all need punched in the shorts. Oh, the Jonas Brothers, Ryan tells us.

Time for the worst audition clips. The "I Am Your Brother" guy in the feathery hat gets the USC cheerleaders and marching band to back him up on stage. Ryan and Paula and Randy join in. That's the kind of levity I can appreciate. But I will not purchase the ringtone, like you did.

One Republic now performs "Apologize." Didn't this squinting tool do this same song on some other finale show? Or was that SNL? SYTYCD? Falsetto a little quaky, there, tool. WAIT, here comes Archuleta to sing it WAY BETTER than the original guy. Nobody ever said that Archuleta couldn't blow. Strangely, the original Apologize guy insists on singing the high note every time, although he's clearly almost breaking it off on that note, and he gets more and more weird and barky and tense through the song. As if he know Archuleta could hand his ass to him, if Archuleta was let off the chain. Or whatever. Who cares.

Jordin Sparks lumbers out to sing her cute little pop song, in a metallic gold dress that's in the shape of Alice's Wonderland frock, or... mayeb something a six year old might wear to a piano recital, if the six year old was wearing last year's five-year-old dress and showing a little too much knee. She won't stand STILL either, she keeps stomping across the stage, even SKIPPING, even TWIRLING!? Totally embarrassing. Starting to feel like this show will never be over.

Time to pimp another movie. Ben Stiller, Jack Black, and Robert Downey Jr. pretend to be Gladys Knight's back-up singers. It goes on too long and Robert Downey Jr.'s comedy reminds me of Amanda Overmeyer's opening act demeanor. Or like a gay dog trainer, the kind that makes you wonder, is he wearing mascara?

Carrie Underwood is up next. She's wearing a long white suit jacket as a dress, and it's not long enough. She has also attached some kind of curtain to each sleeve. The song is about how she got drunk and had a one night stand. It looks like she had a one night stand with a middle aged bride and woke up and threw on half of her girlfriend's demure and mature wedding dress on the way out. Accessorizing it with a shower curtain. Wasn't her last hit called "Jesus Take the Wheel"? What happened to that whole thing?

The top twelve sing again. I feel fondly about them all. George Michael sings. I do not feel fondly. He is wearing giant brown-tinted sunglasses and looks like a scary community theater enthusiast. The song is supposed to have some kind of social message, at least if you believe George Michael's *very expressive* left hand. I think George Michael is trying to become Roger Waters, right there on the American Idol stage. Is this song from a musical? Paula is CRYING. The very expressive left hand is now signing "HELP" and pointing heavenward. It is detaching from his arm and flying around the theater wiping everyone's tears. Just when the song seems over, it's not over. Apparently the guy operating the spot thinks it's over. And behind George Michaels, the sun sinks into a body of water. The message must be global warming.

TIME FOR RESULTS: The winner is David Cook.

Okay, in the SECOND after Ryan said "Cook" my Tivo ended the show. So I saw no reaction, no aftermath, and did he sing a "winning song" or what? I have no idea what happened after the two hour mark. Someone tell me.

I am shocked and PLEASED.

Labels: american idol, finale, recap, television

Ryan predicts devastation for whoever comes in third tonight. He says that historically this has been true. I wish I could remember anything about any of the other third place contestants from other seasons. Tonight we all know it will be Syesha, based on the fact that Randy told her last night she was #3. Ryan then reminds us that the judges will be there to salve the wounds. Paula's boobs erupt over her deep v-neck dress in an enthusiastic wave, as her back drips out over the back. Salve. Precious salve.

The contestants sing "Ain't No Stopping Us Now" and execute a dance routine that reminds me of the kiddie jazz class at my kids' dance school. Median age 9. David Cook looks like a David Cook robot. Syesha is wearing white tennis shoes. Archuleta looks like he's been recently beaten with sticks. Ford reminds us how safe their cars are and how high-tech their designers are. When the commercial is over, I immediately forget that the safe company is Ford. I think it might be Velveeta or Target.

Ryan claims that the votes this year are closer! than! ever! It is the closest vote yet!!! Fifty six billion people voted! Don't believe the rumors, people! This show is on fire.

Next we suffer through the video recap of last night. Nothing more predictable, nothing more loathesome, nothing more boring. I'll tell you what -- Syesha looks like a really nice person. She has a beautiful voice and a lot of pizzazz. Cook is an insufferable, white, puckered breast. Archuleta is a frightening manchild whose puppet strings are nearly visible in HD. I'm almost sure Syesha is going home.

WAIT! HERE COMES FANTASTIA ON COCAINE! She has red hair, several extra butts, and a sequinned pantsuit! Fantasia is the only Idol finalist I have ever loved, and now I remember why. She is omg farking crazy. She's doing speed-farked, funked up, psycho-disco. Unbelievably uncomfortable. At one point, we cut to Simon Cowell's face and he's registering complete horror and disbelief. Ryan interviews her, revealing that she has gold braces? Or is wearing a small strip of orange peel instead of top teeth? At the end of the interview they pretend to make out. Fantasia is very sweaty. Wow. NOW THAT IS LIFE PEOPLE. Take a memo, Archuleta. Breathing means in and out, in and out. Blood goes out to the cells, back to the lungs for more oxygen. SEE? LIVELY-LIKE. Ya little dim-bulb.

Ryan calls Archuleta to the stage. He's wearing a Members Only type jacket.

ARCHULETA HOME TRIP: In Utah, cheerleaders hug David. A newscaster asks him, "Does it feel like it's been a long trip to this point?" David reveals, "It feels like a lot has happened." Everywehre he goes in his home town, girls are screaming. Seriously, during this whole segment, there are screaming teenagers. They go to like THE MALL and stuff, and there are like many teenage girls in hoodies! Yeah, I'm pretty sure this little weeping boil is going to win. He wipes away the tears with his stumpy little dwarf digits and says, "GOSH!" He didn't mean to cry, he explains, but "Gosh." Again and again with the "Gosh." A man whose mustaches could pick his neighbors' noses declares today David Archuleta Day and the manchild sings "Imagine" again. All the way through the trip his tiny taut mother and his looming, edgy father hover over him like trainers around a fancy dog that has learned how to open mail.

Back on stage, he says "Gosh!" again, and Ryan reassures him: It's alright to show emotion. You know what David? Really it's not. Not alright. You know what he's kind of like? He's like a nervous, emasculated Jerry Mather on Leave it to Beaver. With all the gosh and awww gee and wowzer, you could almost see him in a plaid button-down shirt and belted flat-front pants. But... I'm sorry to say that even the Beav is more masculine than our Archie. Sorry.

SYESHA MERCADO'S HOME TRIP: Syesha is not followed by screaming girls, but she does have a police escort. With good reason: Someone hands her a baby as she's saying "I can't I can't I can't." Syesha's crowds are weird. Then she goes home and her father reveals that he has struggled with drugs and alcohol, but this has given him a reason to stay clean. And a purpose. Wow, way to lay your shit on your daughter. At her old high school, Syesha imparts this wisdom: Dreams do come true, so make it happen. Then she goes up in a helicopter and meets the mayor of Sarasota, an elderly woman in purple pants, who does a handstand for Syesha. Back in the limo Syesha delivers an actual moment of true emotion -- crying and clutching a Sarasota snow globe she says she is living her dream. A NICE GIRL. I HOPE SHE DOES WELL.

DAVID COOK'S HOME VISIT: In Kansas City, MO, a newscaster says "WE ARE ON COOK LOOK LIVE!" Then he lets DC do the weather. A crying blonde wants him to win so bad! Lots of people in the crowd at his outdoor show have AC/DC insignia, and have written on their palms. Someone raises a white cut-out of an electric guitar with DC on it. DC is the tool master! Then he takes a trip to his old elementar school where he surprises his elementary school music teacher who is sitting there waiting on stage in a crowded gymnasium with a "David Cook is My Idol!" t-shirt on. She was totally shocked. No, but, that was kind of nice. Then he has a parade, a ball game, and more. Lots of peopel scream and wave golden pom pons and DC sheds a few manly tears. PEH. I'm sure everyone decent and good will point out that he took his brother along everywhere he went, and that was probably a decent and good thing to do, but I will not forget the ironic banker vests and pink ties.

Results after the commercials! Fast forward omg fast forward!!!!!!

We're back. Randy tells the final three they did a good job, they should be proud. Paula says, "You're all standing in a path that's reserved for nothing but great things to come!" Simon says he likes these three. He predicts a real humdinger next week.

In the finals: David (gosh! gosh! oh my gosh!) and David (grim smile)

"We say goodbye to Syesha tonight." She looks unsurprised. A tiny bit annoyed maybe, but in no way surprised. So next week, David vs. David. May the best lip-quiver win.

Labels: american idol, recap, television, top three

Remember when Bo Bice and Kelly Pickler and Taylor Hicks used to climb down off the stage and stomp around on risers behind the judges and storm around the studio slapping hands?? Man, those were the days. This is final four week and nobody has condescendingly high-fived the fat guy in row five. What's wrong with these cringing pansies?

Ryan introduces tonight's theme: The Rock 'N' Roll Hall of Fame. He makes bold statements about how deep and wide the ocean of songs from which the idols can choose -- lies, lies and falsifications. This is just another way to reintroduce Beatles Night III.

DAVID COOK: DC is going to sing "Hungry Like a Wolf" by Duran Duran. The mix is completely mysteriously uneven, with the vocals way out front and bald, and the band way down and kinda fuzzed out. It sounds like a man in a snakeskin jacket is standing out in a field of close-cropped grass shouting "DOO DOO DOO DOO DOO DOO" while far away in a tree a band plays solemnly. Maybe in the room it sounded good, but at home we notice things we should never have to notice, like DC delivering that last line as "Helluva Wine! Dark Sugar Wine!" Do we need to mention how unsavory his pooched out, faded daisy, bee-stung lippage looks when he's nodding and giving us Blue Steel during the nonsensical "doo doo doo" parts? Did Brooke White not teach us all the important lesson that covering songs with "doo-doo" makes you sound like hot greasy poo-poo? Randy says it was mediocre. Paula says she has a big appetite. Simon thought it was copycat. He didn't make it his own. DC stands there like a double-dog-douche squinting and nodding and mouthing "thank you" to the girls in the front row.

SYESHA MERCADO: Syesha sits on the interview stools underneath a glamorous new wig, wearing a gold shift dress, with the coke bottles bubbling behind her, and pimps the tour. Good job. Way to show up. She's going to sing "Proud Mary" by Tina Turner although she is a little intimidated by all the choreography and the fact that it's been covered a hundred times. She is going to have fun with it. Uh-oh. Look out. Fun is about to be had. Hide your children. Cover the fruit! Syesha is about to do that thing with her hands! She does the first verse at a slow tempo while rotating her booty around in complex pattern. Believable. Moderate. The kind of dance move that could almost lead a person to be optimistic about the future. Then as the tempo picks up, there is a transitional period where Syesha convulses rhythmically, shaking her stiff new weave back and forth. Finally she does something that looks like she's trying to get a cat off her head. Apparently still under attack by a mad cat, she whirls around the stage, strutting, shrieking, and stomping. Randy and Paula froth with admiration. Simon says it was a lame rip-off of Tina Turner. I agree with... the invisible cat that was trying to de-weave Syesha. Go back to the signature hair puffs, girl.

JASON CASTRO: Jason gives us the following info in his interview: Tonight's theme is the rock 'n' roll hall of fame. There were a lot of songs on the list that he knew. He is going to do one of the ones that he knows pretty well. He is going to sing a song by Bob Marley. It is called "I Shot the Sheriff." He delivers this very enlightening information with the facial expression and vocal inflection of a twelve year old talking about her cute English teacher. So gross. Jason starts off well, in my opinion. I think if he'd done it all without the guitar, and if the mix had been better, so that his voice wasn't all alone out there on the stage with the band in a back room behind a door with a towel stuffed into the crack, he might have laid down a really great performance. Swinging the guitar back and forth, and with the vocal all out of whack, it did kind of suck. All the judges hated it. Simon calls it a first round audition type massacre. Apparently you're not allowed to do Bob Marley, although the song was, as we ALL KNOW, chosen for Jason by the producers. Randy and Simon go through the charade of disagreeing with the song choice, acting like Jason did Ave Maria with his finger up his nose. Jason laughs through the criticism, and then mouths "VOTE! VOTE!" to the camera while his number is being given.

DAVID ARCHULETA: David sings "Stand By Me." It was all very fine I'm sure. I am too bored by David Archuleta to say anything new. The judges fawn and throw roses as usual. Simon says he could have gotten on stage and whistled a song and would have done better than "the last one." I guess it's time for Jason Castro to go home. Good thing Vote for the Worst is on his side now, along with all the fourteen year old girls in the country.

DAVID COOK: On the stools, David interviews that "the par that I've set for myself on this show is really high." Yes, par. He's going to sing "Baba O'Riley" by The Who. He sings it kinda like a Bryan Adams song. Very dull and mainstream. All the edge of a playground ball. I forgot to listen to what the judges said.

SYESHA MERCADO: Syesha lets us know that the civil rights movement was a pivotal moment in history. This is, she adds, a pivotal movement in her history. So, top four of American Idol, civil rights movement, "A Change is Gonna Come" by Sam Cook. She looks great in a beautifully fitted satin evening gown. I hope she enjoys this performance, because it's her last. Goodbye, Syesha. Jason Castro is too cute and giggly and stoned and popular to be defeated by you. Randy didn't like it. Paula gives her a standing O. From one woman in a golden evening dress to another, it was a superstar performance. "Welcome to your dream, Syesha. This is it for you." And here come the tears. Save some for tomorrow, though, honey. Simon agrees with Paula: she sang it really really well. Syesha sobs and chokes and hiccups "It means a lot to me" then takes the opportunity to remind us about the civil rights movement and how she researched the song. That info is not exactly buried in the annals of history, sweetie.

JASON CASTRO: Back in the meaningless world of hey-whatsup snap your fingers and giggle, Jason signs "Mr. Tambourine Man" on the meaningful stool with a yellow spot on him. Unfortunately on "jingle jangle morning" he sings "der dee-der dee-der" with a silly shrug. Woops! Forgot the words! You know what? I still pick him over David Careful-hair-strands Cook or Syesha Acting-is-my-true-passion Mercado or David Amniotic-sac-head Archuleta. Okay? His performances are the only ones I'd want to listen to again. Forgotten lines notwithstanding. Ass-headed delivery of Bob Marley notwithstanding.

I'll tell you the truth, friends. I'm weary of this smug, manipulative, piss-faced show, okay? END IT. Crown that wet little hobbit and let's get on with our lives.

DAVID ARCHULETA: Omigod, I thought the show was over. But, DA is back and he's going to sing "Love Me Tender." He says it will be exciting to sing a really romantic love song on the big stage. I'm so excited I just stuffed a couch cushion into each ear and put my eyes out. As for the song, I can't separate it from the dog food commercial that utilized these lyrics in like 1990. At the end of the song, we get such a tight shot on David's moist, earnest face that I can count his nascent eyebrows. The judges start pulling out their organs and offering them to David as spares. Simon: "You didn't beat the competition tonight. You crushed the competition tonight."

Best performance: David Archuleta
My pick: Jason Castro
Boring the plasma out of me: David Cook
Going home: Syesha Mercado

Labels: american idol, recap, summary, television, top four

Ryan introduces the show by pondering aloud whether anyone will have a nervous breakdown on stage. I think they have an loony bin paddy wagon on standby for Brooke at all times, just in the hopes that she will start foaming and slapping at people. Ryan reminds us how Neil Diamond is, in the words of the montage voiceover, "relentless." And of course, with songs like "America" to choose from -- well, can I skip tonight? No?

At the mentoring sessions, Neil Diamond is not wearing tinsel fringe. Downright weathered. Almost In fact, he looks a little bit like Neil Young. Now that would be a mentor. Glarp! Neil encourages the Idols to be joyful.

JASON CASTRO: First up to be mentored by this strange new Neil Diamond who wears tasteful brown suede is Jason. He shows us he's bringing his M game by immediately forgetting the lyrics to "Forever in Blue Jeans." Forever in oh, crap, my dreadlock fell off in my duck confit. Jason puts in a competent performance with his acoustic guitar and tonight the string section is in business casual. During this song for the first time I can kind of imagine Jason Castro having a future on the adult contemporary charts. Of course, he is wearing blue jeans. Never one to miss a visual metaphor. Tonight the idols will be judged after their second performance, so we don't get to hear from Snip, Snap and Snape until after the second song.

DAVID COOK: Slinging his electric guitar (the white one with the letters AC on it), befriended by a sweet-looking amp stack, and wearing a black business suit with AC appliqued on the front, David sings "I'm Alive." Neil Diamond liked him alright, and the song went fine. However, when Ryan leaps up onstage and addresses him as "DC" -- and I realize that *that* is what all of this AC nonsense is about. I am flattened into powder by the sudden crushing volume of his toolishness. I mean, he had AC emblazoned on his lapel, with, like red gothic letters. Has there ever BEEN such a vile chunk of excrement on this stage? I mean, I can't even look, people. ACDC my dog's puckered bung.

BROOKE WHITE: Brooke asks Neil if he's a hugger or a hand shaker. Uh, he's a serial decapitator. Step up. Brooke sings "I'm a Believer" in such a happy, schmappy, favorite-eccentric-aunt-singing-karaoke way that I feel bad already, just anticipating what vicious criticism will be leveled by Simon Cowell. It was a pretty bad show -- the key too low, the arrangement too reminiscent of the end credits of Shrek, and she played the guitar like she was trying to saw a log in half.

DAVID ARCHULETA: Neil Diamond looks at David Archuleta like he's a lemon bar lightly dusted with powdered sugar. Calls him a prodigy. And David sings "Sweet Caroline" just like you'd expect. There's a point in the middle somewhere when he attempts a fancy run on "they never would" that kind of gets away from him, and I'd almost swear it was edited just then. Like they let him have a tiny bit of a do-over or clipped out some of the mess. I'm sure not, I mean, this show is nothing if not authentic, right? Evidence that DA is a great big green healthy plant notwithstanding.

SYESHA MERCADO: In her mentoring session, she had Neil Diamond clapping and hugging. She sings "Hello Again" with long straight hair, a simple navy dress, and bare feet. She looks beautiful, and she actually delivers the words of the song as if she speaks English and understands what she's singing, unlike the last four screechers who might as well have been reciting "LA LA LA Neil Diamond wrote this song and we all know the words!"

After this round is over, Ryan brings out the contestants and lets the judges give their thoughts to this point. Randy burbles incomprehensibly. Paula apologizes for not being able to read and write, and then critiques Jason Castro rather harshly on two separate songs. When reminded that she was supposed to critique the first song only, she says, "I thought you sang twice!" Then she gets confused and starts rubbing her crib sheet under her armpits. Randy and Simon jumped in to helpfully say, "WHICH WAS YOUR FAVORITE, PAULA? YOUR FAVORITE?" as if she is deaf and ninety. Simon blasts them all and warns them they'd better improve on round two. Can't wait. I hate this episode, it's dreadfully boring. The commercials for "So You Think You Can Dance" are more interesting than this show.

JASON CASTRO: Jason sings "September Morn" on the "special moment" stool. I think he does really very well. Not that he interprets the lyrics or anything, but again, I can see that kind of Harry Connick Jr. audience going for him all of a sudden. This guy could be, like, absolutely mainstream. PLUS I had another brainwave on my endless search for who Jason Castro looks like: Emily Watson. Believe it. Randy didn't like it. Paula thought it was too safe and recommends Jason start to fight for this. Simon calls it forgettable and tells Jason they don't know who he is.

DAVID COOK: Douchey McToolerson sings "All I Really Need is You" with an acoustic guitar and does a fine job. Bit much on the "this microphone is made of opiates and I melt before it" pantomime. Nobody cares about this song. It gets loud, it gets quiet, it is executed by someone who is wearing a girly necklace. Randy is a big fan. Paula feels like she's already looking at the American Idol. Simon thought the first song was okay, the second song brilliant. Could have been on the radio this year.

BROOKE WHITE: Why aren't they letting them change clothes? Brooke's clothes were awful the first time, now they're practically offensive. I don't even know how to describe the grey, damaged, multilayered moist towellette she's got on top, but I do know it's belted. On the interview stools, Ryan reveals she has a lyric written on her arm. She sings "I am Myself" changing "New York City" to "Arizona" on the advice of Neil Diamond. Randy thought it was hard and she did a good job, Paula thought she connected with the audience and made herself vulnerable. Simon said that this the Brooke we like, a million times better than the first song.

DAVID ARCHULETA: This time up, Archuleta sings kind of a Sting-ish version of "America." His voice squeaks once. He says "of thee I sing" twice. Then he ends with "let freedom ring." I have to go outside now and take a wire brush to my eyes and ears. If I try and do it in the living room, my husband will stop me. These images and sounds must be eradicated. The judges crawl up on stage and try to grasp the hem of his garment. Look, I'm not saying his arrangements weren't well managed tonight. But remind yourself: they're not his arrangements. Nowhere is this "make it your own" fallacy so apparently fallacious as with David Archuleta's "choices."

SYESHA MERCADO: She sings "Thank the Lord for the Nighttime." Still in bare feet. Reminds me of her Andrew Lloyd Webber performance. The judges approve, but Simon predicts that she's in trouble tonight.

Here's the truth: The only performers who are actually comfortable on stage are Syesha and Jason. To some extent, David Cook seems comfortable and confident, but I think he's just doing a good job masking his worry that he will be exposed as a fraud. David Archuleta and Brooke White are white quivering ganglions of fear in the spotlight. Therefore they should go home. I'm tired of watching them tremble and quake.

Best Performance: Syesha with "Hello Again."
Worst Performance: Brooke with "I'm a Believer."
Going home: Brooke.

This show could very well come down to the two Davids. If it does, my boredom may reach out of the grey miasma that surrounds me and strangle me in its cool depths. But I will try to persevere.

Labels: american idol, neil diamond, recap, summary, television, top five

Has it really been a week? Have I really neglected in the interim to blog about literature and art? Is it true that the top search terms in the history of this blog are "Danny Noriega Gay" and "Robbie Carrico Wig" and "Jason Castro Looks Like John Travolta"? I am so killing myself. Right after I find out what Phantom of the Opera song Carly decides to sing! Squee! This! Is! American Idol!

Ryan announces that the finale will be powered by green power. Hamster wheels powering the spotlights, burning dung lighting up the monitors, smoked offal in the judges' Coke glasses. Go green! The band is now positioned down on the stage. I guess I should prepare myself for some very special moments.

Andrew Lloyd Webber is a little man with a giant head and the sleeves of his suits reveal a little too much of his plump wrists, but I love him. My husband says, "Never trust a person who uses all three of their names." I ask why. He replies, "Because ten times out of ten, they've killed somebody." I say that he wrote "Evita" and therefore he can do no wrong. He says "Don't cry for me, Ryan Seacrest."

Randy and Simon speculate that this will be the toughest week ever. Paula says did we see Cloverfield? Because that monster was like ripping things apart totally.

SYESHA MERCADO: In the Phantom Theater in Las Vegas, surrounded by mannikins in box seats, Syesha asks Sir Webber, "Can I be like animated and stuff?" Andy Dub says "Well, let me see the unanimated version." Syesha rolls her eyes and puffs out her lips and delivers "unanimated." Then he asks her to be "animated" and she acts like Shirley Temple. He recommends the latter. She appears in a tight red dress, standing on the grand piano, and puts on a big show. She looks cute and confident. The judges all agree that she did great. Something about the way her electrons wink in and out of existence when I look directy at her make it difficult for me to pay attention when she performs. But quantum theory notwithstanding, I believe that tonight she exhibited something resembling a personality.

JASON CASTRO: Jason interviews with his signature poise and eloquence that he was "kind of like uuuhhh" about singing music from Cats. He trys singing "Memories" for ALW and ALW describes it as a bit of a jolt, pointing out that in the musical it is sung by an aging glamourpuss. Never had he thought of it being sung by a guy in dreadlocks. Yeah. Jason admits he didn't know it was being sung "by a cat." He sings it in a beige linen suit with the star machine on, overwrought and breathy, the lower notes disappearing into the gauzy depths of his weedy and pale adam's apple. Randy calls it a train wreck. Paula rhapsodized about how he expressed himself. Simon compared it to a young guy being forced to sing his parents' song at a wedding.

BROOKE WHITE: Brooke is going to sing "You Must Love Me." Andrew Lloyd Webber observed in coaching that she had no idea what she was singing about. After some instruction and some background info on what the song is actually about, Brooke manages to simulate a sad facial expression, earning high praise from the master. She starts out the song, barfs up a word, asks to start over, then sings it real nice with hand gestures and everything. YES YOU HEARD ME: SHE STOPPED AND STARTED OVER. She sang four or five words and then stopped, asked the band to start over, and then sang it again. Randy said it was alright, he bought the emotion. The camera turns to Paula and the crowd grows eerily silent. Paula, in the middle of a terrible hush, pauses, and then says in a very calm voice "You must never start and stop and start again." As if she's saying, "You have six months to live." Simon says that in her position, having forgotten the lyric, he would have done the same thing. Everyone knows that Brooke is over though.

The way Jason and Brooke have talked about their songs, the way they delivered them, the way they interviewed about them and how little they knew about them when they first presented them to Andrew Lloyd Webber -- it's clear they were assigned these songs. They did not know what they were choosing, if any choosing was involved. The myth of song choice is busted.

DAVID ARCHULETA: David gets awkwardly hugged by a gaggle of Ugly Betty look-alikes on the stools. Apparently they are all his sisters? Andrew Lloyd Webber gives him props for reimagining "Think of Me" as a pop song instead of a diva song. He then advises David to open his eyes while he sings. "The eyes have it! That's why they say that!" he says. I am too kind and I admire the man too much to tell him it's actually ayes that have it and it's more about voting than emoting. But he knew that, right? He was just playing, right? David A's version of "Think of Me" is cute and peppy, but too heavy on the strings and a little boy-bandy when it could have kicked in a bit more on the second verse they're allowing the kids to do now that they have time to kill. Randy says it was the bomb. Paula says it was absolutely perfect. She says, she actually says, that he took a risk -- by turning it into a pop ballad. What risk? It was like turning honey into maple syrup. Not particularly dangerous. Simon calls it forgettable. David A looks like he might cry. Poor David! Subjected to criticism! Not nice!

CARLY SMITHSON: She was going to sing "That's All I Ask of You" but Andrew Lloyd Webber convinced her to do "Superstar" instead. That's right, the titular song from "Jesus Christ Superstar" -- a song/musical considered dangerously blasphemous by a significant percentage of the voting public. This is the opposite of Kristy Lee Cook doing "God Bless the USA." This is song-choice suicide. I'm expecting Carly's tattooed husband to bite the head of a cocker spaniel when they show him in the audience. She is wearing a sequinned jersey dress with funky fleur de lis down the front. During the judging, Carly seems to be holding a t-shirt that says "Simon Loves Me (this week)" and Ryan makes air quotes while reading the parentheses. Husband says, "Where did the shirt come from? Did she have it balled up and stuck in her butt?" Hmm--- maybe!

DAVID LEE COOK: Well isn't that fantastic. He grew up doing musical theater. Something tells me we're not going to get a Whitesnake rendition of "Don't Cry For Me Argentina." Andrew Lloyd Webber calls "Music of the Night" the sexiest song he's ever written, and during the mentoring, he demands that David picture him as a gorgeous girl, which he says he "regrettably" is not. Wow. Interesting dynamic. Cook is going to play this superstraight (oh yes, SUPERstraight) and sing it just like it is in the musical -- no cute rhythmic change-ups, no guitar, just eye-farking the camera and emoting like billy-o. Randy calls it a molten hot lava bomb. Paula calls him well rounded and tells him he has a beautiful instrument. Simon says "You made the most of the song you were given." So, they were given songs.

Best Performance: Syesha Mercado or David Cook.
Worst Performance: Brooke.
Going Home: Brooke. Bye, my sweet crazy girl.

Labels: american idol, andrew lloyd webber, recap, summary, television, top six