Tuesday, January 15, 2008

American Idol Returns at Last!!!

And so it begins. American Idol is back. It's time for season seven, and as usual all the critics say that the season will suck, but people will still watch. Okay, whatever. You're way too smart and cool to watch trash TV. Good for you. Not me, and 2.8 billion other people.

Thank God for the LA Times, which is one of the few large media outlets that recognizes Idol as the coverage-worthy freak show that it is. (Here's some photos from the tryouts.)

So, down to business.

First episode, tryouts in Philly.

Contestant 1:
He's some guy in cool glasses who lost 200 pounds. He's a terrible singer, but Paula tells him he's good, SIMON says he's good, and Dawg says he's good.

"You're kidding," Mark says. "That's just because they like the story line. Man, I didn't think he could sing at all."

Truly, this wiggly voiced dude sucked. But he's going to Hollywood.

Contestant 2:
"I can't stop say, I love America." He loves the Bee Gees. And also, "I love American girls." He tells the story of how some girl told him "you have sexy face." Oh hell. Also, he says "I save myself" (sexually) till he finds the right girl. Did I mention oh hell? Is this the new Sanjaya? Please no.

This guy has to be fake. He sounds like Borat. He sings a miserable version of the Bee Gees "How Deep is Your Love."

Paula's "impressed with how you phonetically learned the song. ... I appreciate you so much. But ..." Paula has such a hard time saying no. Dawg does it for her. "Singing's not your thing dawg," he says.

"Keep it real," he says.

What an American moment. And as we know, he love America.

Contestant 3:
Melanie. Sang back up with former Idol singer Taylor Hicks. Paula likes her. Simon is "completely neither there or there." Dawg likes her. She's in.

Contestant 4:
What? This guy sings like he has 12 marbles in his mouth. "He sounds like a retard," Mark says. Really, he sounds like he's making fun of someone with Down's Syndrome. Dawg laughs into a sheaf of papers. Even Paula's laughing.

"I'm sorry James," Simon says.
"Would you like me to sing something else?" James says.
"No."
"James, seriously," Paula says.
"This is not your thing, dawg," Dawg says.

Ryan Seacrest says it "could just be the worst audition ever."

The guy looks pissed. He could come back with a gun.

"Wow," Mark says. "Wow."

Next up, Juneau, singing The Blues, by Elton John. Looks like The Fresh Prince's cousin. Simon tells him he has a good voice. Simon winks at him. He's in.

Next: Some guys singing in Spanish. Paula says "Absolutely, yes."

Next: Some country dude. Simon tells him, "you're going to Hollywood." Much squealing.

Next: A large 16-year-old chick who is a high school middle linebacker. Her mom is so large she's in a wheelchair and on an oxygen tube. Man, how sad.

She says she's here "for myself and for my mother."

Wow, can she ever not damn sing. Ouch. Please stop.

"Stick to football," Mark says.

"You are a sweetheart, and I like you and you're a nice person," Simon says. But, he lowers the boom. You can't sing, he says. She starts crying. The tears flow down her face. Paula and Dawg get up and give her a hug. Not Simon though. That's not how he rolls.

Next: Some tone deaf dude sings White Christmas. How can anyone fuck up this song? Damn.

"Wow," Mark says.

The guy finishes singing, and the judges just stare at him. The producer dudes patch in some crickets chirping in the field sound. Hilarous.

Next onto some guy who "looks like he's from The Office all set to do some kind of M.C. Hammer thing. His name's Oodie. He does "financial work."

He claims to sound like Barry Manilow and Frank Sinatra. He "sings" I Did it My Way. He sounds like ... I can't think of anything.

"Did you honestly think that you had any chance of getting through and winning?" Simon says.

"Yes, I did," Oodie says.

"Well then you're nuts. It was completely tuneless."

"Okay, well," Oodie says. "I can accept constructive criticism."

What a guy.

NEXT UP: A genius montage of like 30 people singing "I Love Rock and Roll." AWESOME. Look for this on YouTube.

Next Candidate:

She says of herself that she loves shiny things, she loves to dress up. "I am a pirate."

She lives in a studio apartment with her mom. "I have two cats, because I'm studying to be a vet. Besides being a singer, I am also an artist." She looks crazy. This show is about delusions. It makes you feel so bad for some people. Also, you get to laugh at them and thank your lucky stars that you aren't that fucked up.

She says she's been compared to Janis Joplin, Grace Slick and Pat Benatar. She's doing "Somebody to Love."

Scree! She doesn't really sound all that much like Pat Benatar.

Dawg tosses to Simon. "It was a little bit possessed, for me," he says.

"Really?" she says. She's stunned. She thanks them quietly, walks out quietly, and starts screaming once she's in front of the camera out in the hall.

"You sir, suck," she says, gesturing back to Simon. She goes on a long rant about Simon. Then declares she's going to be an actress. "Simon, kiss my ***," she says. She hams it up for another three or four minutes, flips the bird, gives a big long speech. "I will be victorious ... I hope to hear from you. I really do. I'll be waiting."

Exit stage right.

Now comes Angela, teen mom of a daughter with Rett Syndrome. "We had to get a operation on her," she says. They got the word that "her brain wasn't growing."

Angela's whole family is here to support her Idol effort, which she is doing "for her."

"It's not about fame for me," Angela says. It never is. Except for sometimes.

"You're very cute," Simon tells her. I think he had his teeth whitened in the off season. She does some Stevie Wonder. Signed, Sealed, Delivered. Paula nods, enthusiastically. Simon chews his pen. He tells her she's got a good voice, but she's picked up some bad habits as a wedding singer. She get's three yesses. Angela, you are going to Hollywood, baby.

"Day 1 ended on a high," Ryan Seacrest voiceovers. The family squeals and squeals out in the hallways. On the other side of the door Simon says something obtuse about how amazing it is that "in this country" people get so happy for people they know when something good happens to them.

Dawg shakes his head. And so, it ends. Hour 1 that is. Oh boy, it's a two-hour opening kick off!

Hour 2:
Alice, in bright, bright pink, screeches something. "It's exactly identical to a nightmare I had last week," Simon says.

Next: a montage of screechy chicks.

Next: Milo. He's 39. He sings his own songs. This one's called No Sex Allowed.

"I don't need that, there's a better way," he sings. "Sex is weak and love is strong. No Sex Allowed, I don't want to be part of your crowd."

The judges sing along, but decline to hear the second and third verses.

Next: Christy Lee Cook, from Oregon. She wears red, rides horses, trains for cage fighting. She sings Amazing Grace. She's cute, and has pipes. She's a little country, an All American Girl. That guy who likes American girls probably was talking to her outside. PREDICTION: She will be in the final 10. Lucky thing, because she had to sell one of her really good barrel horses to pay for her trip to Idol.

Next Up. Some dude in a cape. Simon rolls his eyes. "All right, let's have a look," Simon says.

He swings open the cape.

Ouch. It's some kind of Star Wars outfit, involving a weird chest ornament, but not much coverage. And lots and lots of hair.

"I can't get past the chest hair," Paula says.

"Can I wax it and come back?"

Sure, they say. So he leaves. Err?

Next, a montage of crappy singers who don't get far. Including Paul.

"This is a love song I wrote for Paula Abdul," he says. "There is this girl I know, I follow her around. She hasn't noticed me, it really gets me down. ... I'm not much of a talker, so I think I'll just stalk her. If she were a doggy, I would walk her. If I were Columbo, I'd Peter Falk her. If she were a bathtub, I would caulk her." Something like that.

"I think you should leave," Simon says. "Something about that was really creepy."

Yikes.

"That guys was crazy," Dawg says.

Next up: A Christian Chick. Singing Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered. Simon, strokes his nose. He says no, but Paula and Dawg give her a thumbs up, and she's going to Hollywood.

Hairy guy is back. He's completely hairless. Dang, but they don't even let him sing after all that. He turns to leave, and you get a taste of butt crack. Is this country great, or what?

"This show is painful," Mark says.

Next: Some sick clips of the cape guy getting his chest hair ripped off. "AAugh," Mark says. "Oh! Ow! It's painful!" And gross looking.

These people know how to make a show. It's got a little of everything. Crack addicts, hairy guys, crazy people. What's not to love?

Next up: Milli Vanilli/Chris.
Wiggly voice guy with dreads. Mark Predicts: He's going all the way. "He could be the whole season winner."

Simon says: "You look like a star."
Dawg: "Dude I like you."
Three yesses. Welcome to Hollywood.

Whew. Fifteen minutes and two girls left: A blond and a Star Wars freak dressed up as Princes Leah, with the Leah hair buns and a big Star Wars buckle. "I'm a fan and proud of it ... I'm a goofball."

"Men love me," she says. "I do have a genuine talent." She's a little bit cross eyed, and a lot wacko. She sings "the Roger Daltry version" of Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me. Oy, yikes.

Simon is at his most disguisted.

"That was a strange audition," Dawg says.

"Give my love to the Wookie," Simon mutters as she stalks out.

Out in the hallway, she cries with her grandparents, and yanks off her Leah hairbud wigs. "So be it," she says bitterly. "They need something different for this show, and they're not allowing it ... They don't want anything different. They don't want true diversity."

And so the blond. Size 2. Brook. She's a nanny. Some gross clips of her baby talking with her wards. "I've never seen a rated R movie," she says. Jeez. "It was always my own choice," she says. Also, no drinking, no smoking. She's married. He doesn't watch R rated moves either, she says.

"I'll be up in a minute, honey," Simon says. "Just need to check something on the Internet. Check the Share prices." Ho ho.

She sings pretty good.

"I like you," Dawg says. "Something sort of pure."

I would think so, Paula says. Three thumbs up. She is going to the land of the Devil.

Onward: Tomorrow Simon does Dallas. Sweet.

"It is like the end of society," Mark says. "You know, like the Romans?" Like, at the end of the empire, when they had to keep themselves distracted with lions eating slaves and gladiators. That's what Idol is, Mark says. "It's almost over."

5 comments:

Mark said...

Genius post baby.

This is sick entertainment, that's for sure. But at least it's entertainment.

Also clocking in at two hours tonight, and without much enlightenment or even chest waxing, was the latest Democratic debate.

Combine those two shows and you might be onto something.

Janice said...

I've never seen american idol, and this this post I now know I never need to see it. Thanks!

michelle said...

C'mon Janice, you have to watch it once. And if you do, you'll never be able to look away.

Janice said...

Didn't it come on at the same time as Comanche Moon last night (9 eastern?) If not, I'm sure I can think of some other excuse.

freda said...

I'm with Janice, you don't need an excuse Janice. There was on guy however, funny looking little guy, but with the voice of an angel. I never watch the show but someone sent me his audition by email, he was wonderful, but not worth sitting through the rest of it.