American Idol Top 11: Results

Even this show is sick of itself. “ANOTHER IDOL MUST FALL.” That’s what it says, in big red letters, right there on my TV, in glorious high-def. Next week’s title card: “KILL US NOW. PLEASE.” They should just release a pack of wolves on the stage and whatever happens, happens. It can’t be any worse than what we’ve seen so far. This, I’m sorry to say, is American Idol. “I’m running a label here, Josephine!”

Last night, Miley Cyrus swooped in like swine flu to advise the Idols and unsettle the viewers. Performances, across the board, were bad to diarrhetic, except for Crystal Bowersox, who always does the work and reaps the rewards. Tonight, one more contestant will go home, as 11 become 10. This is an important round for the kids, because it’s the Top 10 that get to go on the live Idol tour. Not that anybody will buy tickets. That’s another hill to climb. But hey, for ten of these schmoes, it’ll be a steady paycheck.

Group Sing is back, and it’s time to lip sync for your life. The song is Wham!’s “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go.” As Andrew and Casey walk down the stairs, Casey is already laughing his ass off. Tim and Aaron lumber down their steps like two Frankensteins on their way to Splash Bar. Big Mike loves the spotlight, but Dweezil would rather be anywhere else on the planet. This song is totally Paige and Katie’s speed. In another time, they’d both be Mousketeers. In still another time, they’d be cavewomen. I like that time the best, because then DinoCroc might eat them. Crystal has her eyes on the finale prize and knows this is where you pay your dues. Hey, there’s Didi, almost falling on her ass, then getting the giggles. Siobhan might very well believe this is actually 1984. There’s Casey, forgetting the lyrics as his lips go left and the song goes right. All this, wrapped in some soft-core choreography that’s nowhere as timelessly cheesy as this.

Ford Ad. Last week, the Idols vandalized some cars with paint. This week, to the tune of “Our Time Now,” they drive their vehicles to a public water fountain, fill it full of multi-colored plastic balls, then dive into it like kids at Chuck E. Cheese before speeding away, leaving their balls — and Andrew Garcia (because if you have the chance take it) — behind.

And now to business…

Siobhan Magnus sang “Superstition,” screaming at the end for bonus points. She’s safe.

Dweezil sang “The Letter” which was a mess. Casey Jones did his best Huey Lewis, which, if ever there was an oxymoron, “best Huey Lewis” would cover it. Wait a minute…

Tim Urban went bonkers singing “Crazy Little Thing Called Love,” using the stage as a slip-and-slide. Paige Miles sang “Against All Odds,” in a world where “singing” is defined as: groaning, then whispering, then making drowning sounds.

Paige is in the Bottom Three. Tim is in the Bottom Three! Bazinga!

What about Dweezil and Casey? Who knows. We’ve got to sit through ten commercials and a performance by Miley Cyrus. Miley is apparently playing the piano, in a swamp, while dressed as that chick from Phantom of the Opera. Vocally, she’s fantastic, in that she sounds like she has a splinter in her cootch. She might even be chewing gum. Or maybe she just has a fetal twin living in her mouth. Your words are magical, Miley. In future, please pronounce them.

Where were we? Oh, yeah. After a solid 15 minutes, we learn that Dweezil and Casey are safe.

Aaron Kelly sang the Armageddon Song while suffering from the croup. He’s safe.

Didi Benami sang “You’re No Good” and offended the very souls of the judging panel for having the nerve to be creative, and, ya know, actually perform something. But she’s safe.

Big Mike sang some song about women or motherhood or whatever the fuck. He’s been singing the same song for four weeks. But he’s safe.

Crystal Bowersox. Stop it, Seacrest. Of course, she’s safe.

Katie Stevens sang “Big Girls Don’t Cry” in her horrible Muppet voice. Andrew Garcia sang “I Heard It Through the Grapevine,” coming off as a complete tool. I can lose either of these two, but I think that Katie has legs, so it’s important to get rid of her now. Otherwise? Top Three. Watch and see. America is exactly that stupid.

Andrew is safe. Katie is in the Bottom Three. Holy joy!

So we’ve got Paige, Tim, and Katie, all in danger of leaving. But somebody gets rescued immediately. That person is…gah! Fucking Katie. She’s in the tour, too, and thus, will be with us forever.

Procrastination joins us, as Joe Jonas and Demi Lovato perform some song of theirs. Did you know they’re dating and he’s totally not gay? It’s true! There are pictures of them on the internet, walking around together and almost holding hands, which absolutely clarifies that he likes girls, and those photos of him trotting around with…fashionable lads…were just a strange aberration. And this song? You know that sucking sound a drain makes just after you’ve unclogged it? It’s like that, but with a piano in the background. Then Seacrest comes out and is like “Oh, Joe, you and Demi have such fabulous chemistry!” Because if ever you needed someone to testify to your heterosexuality, Ryan Seacrest would be your go-to.

Results…

Tim…is safe. Paige is out. But maybe the Judge’s Save can be used–?

No. Simon is like, “Don’t trouble yourself to sing for your life. You’ve been horrible, and there’s not a chance in hell that we’ll keep you even a minute longer. You’re going home.” He literally says, “It’s the end.”

So no tour for Paige. But another week for Tim to find himself, in every regard. Another week of Katie growing roots on this damn stage.

Next week’s theme: soul and R&B. Goodbye, Tim!

Wonk!
-Frank