To open the second show of the second season, Seacrest deftly narrates a quick recap of Tuesday's show. I secretly wished that he took ten minutes and read my recap of the show, but alas, my dreams go unanswered once more. Sigh!
The first stop tonight is Los Angeles. 11,000 people auditioned in the City of the Angels, and just about all of them went "Whoo!" when the camera spied them. Again, what is it with the constant whooing when people get on camera? I just don't get it. Another thing I don't get so far is the new gal, Kristin Holt. She just kinda stands there the whole time, unsure what to do. She reminds me of Jillian Barberie in that if I looked for six months straight, I wouldn't be able to find one person willing to admit they like her, and yet there she is on TV anyway.
The first singer we see in L.A. is Equoia, who accented her outfit with this spring's hot new accessory, crutches. That must've been some spider bite. And who the hell gets bitten by spiders these days? Besides banana farmers and Michael Jackson, I mean. Next up is Robert. Who is.um.not so good. And he's wearing clothes designed for somebody eight inches taller. Sweet Irish jig, though!
After an irate girl rips up her number in a flashing display of passion (Aaaargh!), Seacrest talks to James, who relates a story about the time he burned down his house. Hmm. This show could definitely use somebody who starts fires in closets. At least he can sing. Maybe he sang for help as he ran from the house. "Sommmmeboooody! Calllllll nine-one-onnnnnnne! Helllllllp! Oooooh, baby, help!" I really hope James wins, mainly so he can buy his parents a new house to pay them back.
After that comes Robyn, who looks like the daughter of that socialite in Manhattan who had all the plastic surgery and now looks like a lion. Have you ever seen that woman? I hope so, or else this part isn't very funny. Which is about normal. Robyn's real mother is out in the hallway, and she isn't the most pleasant person in the world. She says that anything bad the judges say about her daughter is bogus. Nice, objective sentiments. Kristin says that "American Idol" has made mistakes before. I can't tell if she's talking about herself or Jim Verraros.
Robyn makes it through, which is terrific because her mother threatened to rip Simon's testicles off. After that charming little nugget, we're introduced to Anthony, whose voice is on the airy side of high. Seacrest cuts me off at the pass when he wonders if Robyn's mom had met Anthony. Too bad, because any good column could always use a few testicle gags. Oh well. What can you do?
After that comes Daniel, whose look could best be described as "gaunt." He looks like a zombie, in fact. A zombie with an awesome little puff mullet sticking out of the back of his ear warmer. Ever the patriot, Daniel decides to rewrite the National Anthem a bit. "Blockets ned fair, bombs over there. Gave broom to the right, ma nah nah bear. Oh say does that star banner rocket bled nair." Simon tells Daniel, "You're in a class of your own," and Daniel reacts with glee. He's then shocked to find out the judges didn't mean that as a compliment. Did he think he was good? Maybe he thought he nailed the lyrics. In the hallway with Seacrest, Daniel says his mouth was dry. Ah, yes, that was the problem.
To restore order, the show sends in the Marine. Lance Corporal Joshua Gracin is going to sing an O-Town song. That's right, a man trained to kill in several different ways knows an O-Town song. Joshua is a strong singer, though. Good. I don't really want to insult a Marine who could probably hunt me down with ease. After his audition, Joshua calls his family with the good news on the smallest cell phone in the universe. It's approximately two inches by one inch. How do you dial that thing?
Following the sharp discipline of Joshua, we get the contrast of the frenetic Alyson. It seems she's changed the spelling of her name to something more "interesting." Allysin has all the self control of a terrier full of cappuccino, so she continually prances about the room. Or maybe that's because she has OCD. Or maybe Alisen made up having OCD to get even more attention. "Oh, she has a disease! She's so interesting!" Allosin sings about five different songs, all the while begging the judges to pick her. "How could anybody not love me?!? I'm so interesting! I have OCD!" Unless Alllesyn turns the lights on and off twelve times before leaving the audition room, she's clearly lying about her affliction. Aylyson eventually kisses Randy, which somehow convinces him to move her on to Hollywood. She noisily explodes from the room, and when she sees that some people aren't looking at her, starts yelling. I love people like this!
On another note, my favorite part of the evening so far hasn't been any of the singers. It's been the imposing visage of Kelly staring down from the backdrop. It's a cult of personality of Mao-like proportions. Kelly should speak to all the auditioners from a balcony high above them. "Your singing must be strong. Like steel. Also, we must increase grain production."
Back to the show. And more bad auditions. We see a guy who sings, "Afraid I don't know how." He doesn't know how right he was. Then we're treated to a girl in a yellow shirt whose voice is just a little squeaky. Then we see the worst music video of all time. Four guys singing in a bathroom with one at the urinal. If this were a real musical video, I bet the director would go by one name. Probably something like Melbon. "Melbon is really proud of his video set in the loo. I'm Melbon!"
Then it's time to ratchet things up a notch with more twins, Brandon and Bryan. Who cares which one is which? Although one is taller. How does that happen with identical twins? Surprisingly, these two geniuses get rejected, although according to them, three opinions out of all the people in Hollywood isn't enough to count. In the Confessionals booth, we see that the boys have somehow switched heights. Uncanny! They prattle on about how it was the judges versus Brandon and Bryan, like it was some epic battle on par with the Orcs storming the Rohanian fortress. In their minds, the twins came out on top. Good for them!
Changing the mood slightly, in comes Marie, the happiest girl on the planet. That must've been some positive thinking seminar she attended. Totally worth the money! Marie's belt is fastened about four inches below her waist. I mean, that's where the belt loops are. Let's hope this fashion dies out quickly. Marie gets rejected, then hits the Confessional booth to vent, "---- this ----!" Gosh. I guess her seminar also taught her to let the steam out occasionally to prevent explosion.
More bad singers follow. Some guy sings, "I decided long ago, never too long in anyone's shadows." Messed up the lyrics, huh? Not so good, especially when you're screeching like you just touched a hot oven. Then we see a guy in a black shirt with a matching black glove. One glove. And cutting the fingers off said glove did nothing to help his singing. He's followed up by a guy with slicked back hair who just escaped from prison. At least, that's what his all-blue outfit leads us to believe.
But none of these failures can hang with Charm. I'm guessing that's not his real name. Or hair color(s). Charm explains to Seacrest that his style represents perseverance and an undying love for life and his artistic goals. So that's what a green mustache means. In a shocking development, Charm's wailing is rejected. Later, he confesses that he respects Simon's honesty, but it's not cool to degrade people. So, is it cool to be honest, or is it cool to protect people? Help me, Charm, help me! I'm so confused!
Dino rips off an awesome number. After he finishes, there's a long, awkward pause as the judges try to figure out what to say. Dino decides to fill the silence with some more awful singing. I think he was better off before. When he was quiet. Then Melody comes in dressed as Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz. It's actually a pretty hot outfit. Outside, she's met by her friend, who's wearing a quarter shirt and elbow-length pink gloves. I wonder if they took the bus here together. That would've been some scene.
And there's J.D. Adams, who looks like he came directly from his audition for One Life to Live. Each judges praises J.D.'s mere presence in the contest, and I'm willing to bet a gaggle of teen girls at home are doing the same. Man, I can see it already. "We love you, J.Deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Screeeeeeech!"
Then the time comes to move onto Detroit. If any of these kids live in 8 Mile, they'll be able to overcome great adversity to be a giant success. First up, we see Jay Mohr doing some song about being 16 or 17. Or something. Then we see Bill, who was the first in line. By ten hours. After Bill sings, it's apparent he should've been never in line. Paula advises him to think about Broadway, and Bill politely informs her that "Broadway's more of a second home." Hopefully, his first home will be a cave somewhere where we'll never have to hear from him again. And did I really need to see his ass during his confession? The answer is a resounding "no," by the way.
Next up in Detroit is Antoine, who's wearing a futuristic denim jacket and speaking his song. Antoine says he's a lifeguard in Detroit, which doesn't really sound like a year-round job. But Antoine is no match for Dennis, a Bible-reading ex-stripper. Dennis is dressed like a traffic cop from the future, and doesn't sing so well. In the lobby, he tells Seacrest the judges were intimidated by him. That's entirely possible. They may have suspected his leather outfit contained a hidden photon ray gun somewhere. They could've been vaporized! Dennis' mom chimes in that Randy is only good to "sit up and eat," which is only slightly hypocritical. Thankfully, she didn't make fun of Randy for having a wig, which would've been completely hypocritical.
Following that act is Kewanna, who is wearing a giant potholder that she possibly crocheted herself. But her singing is cute enough to get to the next round. Outside, Kewanna calls her grandma as Kristin stands by. You know, whenever Kristin smiles, she looks like the "After 136 weeks" photo in a teeth whitening ad.
Teya goes next. After a quick pit stop into the bathroom to vomit. Fortunately, she didn't get any bile on her cute fuzzy hat. Teya doesn't have what it takes to impress the judges. Upon receiving this news, her face starts leaking. She looks like the Nazis at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark. Somebody hand her a tissue!
Karissia's shirt has musical notes on it. That's sure to give her an advantage over the competition. She tells a sad story about how her mom hopes she doesn't make it. I'm not touching that. What am I? Captain Blackheart? After being rejected, Karissia goes on to tell Ryan that her parents don't support her dream of being a singer. And the puzzle pieces begin to fall into place. Rather than being evil parents straight out of Dickens - or Harry Potter's aunt and uncle to modernize it for the kiddies - it's more likely that they realize their daughter can't sing that well and are trying to save her from running into walls for the next ten years. Hell, that's not deplorable. That's commendable! Parents of the year, I say!
Just when we think things can't get any worse, we see a guy flexing his pecs as he sings. What the hell is that? It's terrifying! And his cocky smile makes it look like he thinks Paula will blown away by his muscular control. This guy must be awesome in the gym. "Yeah! Rip it! I need pecs that bounce! That dance! Push it! Unnhh!" Following that is Joseph, who has mastered the complete assortment of Darren's dance grooves. He's like a boy band parody. But he's no Minaux le Roi.
Le Roi means "the king" in French. And we can suppose that Minaux means "terrible singer with bad hair." Rather than being the next American Idol, he should name himself Elvesh Preslakkah and sing "Heartbreak Hotel" while standing in the middle of a packed Peshawar bazaar. He'd make so many rupees he wouldn't know what to do!
Finally, we close out Detroit with Nicole, a boxing single mother. Her tale is pretty sad and it's topped off by the fact that she can't sing all that well. I don't want to get into Nicole too much, but I will say this: I'd hate to be her next opponent. There might be a death in the ring.
So that sums up the first week of AMERICAN IDOL. Next week, we get to see Nashville and Atlanta. And we get to see the judges dicker back and forth over who should make up the 32 semi-finalists. If it's anything like this week, it'll be hilarious. Except for the recap, which is sure to be mediocre for the third time in a row. Rock on!