Philadelphia Auditions 2008

Is this show still on?!

by Frank Pittarese

Welcome back to another season of American Idol and another round of Maximum recappery. If you've read these before, thanks for coming back. If you're new here, don't be afraid of the snark. I really do love this show...when I'm not hating it like poison.

Ryan Seacrest gets the ball rolling, with a voiceover telling us the show has visited seven cities and that over one hundred thousand morons (or, if you prefer, people) showed up to audition. A sea of fools waves at the camera. Fields and stadiums are full of sweaty humanity. Some hold homemade signs, made with the focused skill of a second-grader. Possibly a semi-retarded second-grader.

We fly over a field where the message, "Welcome to Omaha, American Idol" has been "crop circled" into the ground. This, more than anything else, proves that aliens exist. You'd have to be a space cadet to take the time (he said, writing the first of forty recaps).

Quick shots. Pretty girls. Freaks of nature. Cute boy. Guy with very unfortunate beaded cornrows. Fat guy from Alaska. Dude from Boliva playing a pan flute. (Word on the street is that contestants are allowed to audition with instruments this year, although we see none of that in this episode or the next.) More quickies. Girl dressed as the Wicked Witch of the West. Man dressed as a pimp. Drag queen. Chick who makes balloon animals. Hopes and dreams, ready to be crushed without mercy. I can't wait.

"This is American Idol," says Seacrest. And it is forever.

A brief history of Philadelphia. It was the first American city with a library and a daily paper. The Declaration of Independence was signed there. And famous people such as Betsy Ross, Benjamin Franklin, and Rocky Balboa lived there. It is also the first stop on Idol's auditions from Hell.

The judges arrive. Paula hugs some fans without suffering a nervous breakdown. Simon and Randy take the back way in, because they don't want the little people touching them. Seacrest is dressed like he snuck out of the fitting room at Old Navy.

The auditions begin.

Joey Catalano lost over 200 pounds, and now he likes to jump up and down in front of the camera and irritate me. Seacrest reminds him that losing weight doesn't solve all Joey's problems. I love it when Ryan keeps it real. "You may be skinny, but your life is shit." Joey sings Maroon 5's "Sunday Morning" adequately. It's not great, but it's not ear-torture. It is enough to get him to Hollywood. We'll never see him again.

Alaa “Youka” Youakeem is from Egypt, and looks like he may, at some point in his life, have gotten the upper portion of his head stuck in a narrow pipe for a prolonged period of time. And he talks like Borat. Alaa loves American music and "Mister Bee Gees." This immediately makes him my favorite auditioneer of the night. He shares this anecdote: "I have my friend, she's very pretty, and she told me, 'Youka, you are sexy face.'" He grins, gap-toothed, at the camera. He's saving himself for marriage, this one, and "a good girl." Not some cheap whore, like the feather-boa chick sitting nearby who is all "Dang, you ain't gotta be married to have no kids!" Alaa wants to "love a girl from the hair to the nipple." He says this with the utmost sincerity. Man, if Seacrest ever quits, this guy needs to step up.

At panel, Alaa compliments Paula. Simon asks, "Would you like her to be your woman?" Simon would trade Paula for a new toothbrush. Alaa sings Mister Bee Gees' "How Deep is Your Love." Of course, he's terrible. Best lyric-malfunction: "I know you writhe in the mornik sun." Suffice it to say, he doesn't go to Hollywood.

Melanie Nyema is a pretty girl who sang backup for the insufferable Taylor Hicks. She sings that Natasha Bedingfield song from the Pantene Pro-V commericals. Nice voice, but nothing special. Simon feels the same. "I'm neither there, nor there." So does that mean he’s here? Simon is outvoted and Mel's through to Hollywood.

James Lewis is a Philadelphia tour guide. We see him doing this, dressed in period clothing. We also see that he has no upper front teeth. He comes to auditions wearing a suit that's a size too big, which gives him a vague Incredible Shrinking Man vibe. His co-workers encouraged him to audition. Somebody's having a laugh. James compares his voice to that of Eddie Vedder of the abysmal band Pearl Jam. (If you disagree, go write your own recap.) He decides to sing "Go Down Moses," also known as "Let My Cameron Go," from the film Ferris Bueller's Day Off. James sounds like a recording of a foghorn, played backwards at half speed, while caught in a time warp.

Paula and Randy are in hysterics. They laugh right in James’s face. They turn away. They cover their faces with papers. They are about to pee themselves on national television. James doesn't understand what's happening. The dim souls that wander into these auditions...

He bellows another song (or something) before getting the turn-down. The hyenas apologize for laughing. James vows to return next year and sing Christian songs. Yeah, that’ll help.

Short Takes. Boy screeches through "Unchained Melody." Girl sings "Love You I Do" like she will fucking cut you. A thin fellow dressed like a Jehovah's Witness whispers a lullaby. He might be asleep, himself.

Junot Joyner sings "I Guess That's Why They Call It the Blues" with a lovely voice. He's going to Hollywood. He even gets a wink from Simon. We'll never see him again.

Jose Candelaria, a wiry lad dressed like Justin Timberlake circa 1998 (because that's an evergreen look), sings "Unbreak My Heart" in Spanish. Another fine voice, another ticket to Hollywood.

Jonathan Baines is only 17, so I can't remark on him till next year. He sings Little Big Town's "A Little More You," and it's good enough that I might go download my very first country song. In a year, I might go download some Jonathan Baines. Hollywood for him.

Temptress Browne is next. Initially, I was going to go after her. She's a very large female, possibly dim-witted, with rust-colored hair, wearing a big poncho-type striped blouse that almost exactly matches her hair and skin tone. Generally, she looks like an explosive special effect. But I'm not going to go after her. Temptress is there to sing for her mom, a terribly obese woman suffering from breathing problems. Mom is wheelchaired in to share Temptress's experience, and she's very encouraging. "Thank you for trying," Mom says. I'm already with the "Awww..." here, and it's going to get worse.

Temptress politely tells the judges about her life, and then sings "I'm Not Going Nowhere" (sic) by Jennifer Hudson from the movie Dreamgirls. The girl can't sing. In fact, she shouldn't sing, except maybe in private, but even then. The judges, even Simon, let her down gently, and Temptress starts to cry, very quietly. Paula and Randy give her a hug, and Temptress says that she can't go back outside after failing. Take the shame, Temptress. But all three judges decide to walk her out, except you know Simon's internal monologue is something like, "God, how did I get stuck in this mess? I hope she doesn’t expect me to hug her." In the hall, they say nice things to Mom and comfort is given all around.

Mark Hayes is excessively pretty, in a masculine sort of way, so I pay closer attention. Then he boasts about being able to make cricket noises, say, when a comedian isn't funny. He demonstrates his heckling skills by making the sound, then auditions with "White Christmas" as sung by Bing Crosby’s zombie corpse. There's an expression I use sometimes. Be naked or be quiet. That's Mark Hayes. No Hollywood for him. Crickets chirp as we say goodbye.

Udgeet "Udi" Sampat is 28 years old, but he looks to be around 42. He does finance work and says he's incorporated music into his workplace to motivate his coworkers. This was accomplished by dressing up as MC Hammer. Timely. He thought this would be a creative way to lead a meeting. Clearly, he graduated from the Michael Scott School of Management. Udi dances around like he's got a wad of toilet paper wedged in his anus. This is better than his singing. While Udi compares himself to Barry Manilow and Frank Sinatra, his rendition of "My Way" is one long monotonous note. Simon keeps calling him "Oogie," (hee!) as he explains why Udi sucked. Udi no understand. "Keep your batteries and your calculator," says Simon. No Hollywood for you.

This is followed by a sucky montage of sucky people sucking at singing "I Love Rock and Roll" suckily. This includes three girls dressed like the Andrews Sisters (Google 'em, youngsters), a man in a Poison Ivy wig, and a chick dressed like an angel.

Alexis Cohen is a slightly deranged girl who wants to be on TV. According to Andy Dehnart's column on Reality Blurred, she might even be a plant. One thing she is not, Ladies of The View, is deserving of our sympathy. In fact, by the end of this segment, I would not have minded seeing Alexis kicked heartily in the ass by all three judges.

Alexis has the speaking voice of Jackie Mason (again, Google him), and she is covered in glitter. It looks like Liberace gave her a facial. Apparently, she's applied her eye shadow with a sock. She’s also a fan of purple lipstick. Didn't you hear? The frostbite look is in. She howls and dances for the camera, telling us how she likes her appearance. Alexis is a big fan of Alexis. She's from Allentown, Pennsylvania, and informs us that there is a song called "Allentown," performed by the artist Bon Jovi. He recorded that one after he did "Like a Virgin."

The girl shares a studio apartment, about the size of a small kitchen, with her mother. Mom sleeps in the bed; Alexis sleeps on a couch, literally two feet away. There's a Bates Motel vibe with Mom. The whole thing is creepy. Something happens in tomorrow's show that tops this, but right now, yuck. Alexis has two cats and a dog, because she's studying to be a vet. So she keeps the animals for dissections? She's also an "artist," and judging from her work, she could very well give any lobotomized mental patient a run for their money.

Alexis plans to knock the judges "on their feet." She tells them she's been vocally compared to Janis Joplin, Grace Slick and Pat Benatar, proving this by singing "Somebody to Love" by Jefferson Airplane. Honestly, it's a pretty solid Grace Slick impersonation. Right now, typing this and not looking at the screen, I have no problem with the vocals. It's Alexis' unpasteurized freakiness that is her undoing.

Simon says she sounded possessed and that she's wrong for the competition. Randy suggests she join a '60s cover band. Alexis doesn't know what the hell, but says she's honored to have been able to audition, thanks the judges, and leaves.

Outside (and why am I spending six paragraphs on this ass-clown?), Alexis goes ballastic. "How dare he?" She asks. How very dare he? She calls him a prick, then suddenly announces, "I will leave with my dignity!" But striding out, she gives the camera the finger. Then she does it some more. "Take it, take it, take it!!" she howls. "I'm going for actressing!" So go, Alexis. If it gets you off my TV, just go. She curses some more, and her Crazytown Mom somehow blames Simon's behavior on a) his being British, and b) being pushed "years and years and years ago." Then Alexis bends over, points her ass cheeks toward the camera, and with a hearty slap, encourages Simon to kiss her "asshole." God, she's a pig. Enough of her.

Angela Martin is from Chicago, and her daughter has a disability called Rett's Syndrome, which is something like cerebral palsy. There's lots of at-home footage, and it's all very sad. It occurs to me that this show has no middle ground. You're either an absolute human oddity or you've got a sob story. Left or right, black or white. There is no gray.

Angela shows up with everyone she's ever met in her life, and sings "Signed, Sealed, Delivered" for the judges. She pretty and has a nice voice, but she does all these Will Smith-y huhs and uhs to punctuate the lyrics. It's mildly annoying. But she has some talent, she's not a loon, and she has A Story, so the judges put her through. In the hallway, her entire neighborhood screams with joy, accidentally knocking Seacrest to the floor. He's small, so it's not too far a drop.

The second day in Philly starts with Alyse Wojciechowski, a girl who dances like Elaine Benes. Her musical inspirations include Eva Cassidy (who?) and Alicia Keyes (her, I know). She sings like murder. Hollywood is a no.

Ugh. Some old guy with male pattern baldness and a '70s porn moustache, wearing a leopard-skin vest tries to "persuade" Seacrest to let him audition. Like Ryan has a say. I'm not even sure if he's allowed to dress himself. His name is Milo Turk, he's 39 (he says) and he has a self-written, inspirational song called "No Sex Allowed" that he'd like to sing for the judges and dedicate to Simon.

Milo is a bundle of nerves: shaky hands, weird gestures, lots of grabbing of his own hair (of which there is very little). His song involves marching in place and pointing. "No sex allowed/I don't want to be part of your crowd/No sex allowed/If you don't like it/get outta town!" It's number one on iTunes. Goodbye to Milo. He's happy he got to be on TV.

Kristy Lee Cook is a very attractive blonde girl who lives in a log cabin and kickboxes. She loves training horses and selling them, but she had to sell her favorite horse to make it to auditions. Aww...tragedy. Simon and Randy out-perv each other, wanting to know if Kristy wrestles in Jello (!). Finally, she sings "Amazing Grace" nicely and with a slight country tone. Welcome to Hollywood, Kristy. And Simon's wet dreams.

Ben Haar is another publicity whore. This chubby fellow shows up in a Princess Leia, Return of the Jedi slave girl costume. Simon, as annoyed as I am, wants to know why he should bother listening to Ben. "'Cause it might have been entertaining," Ben shrugs. Um, no. Paula is fascinated by the thick mass of chest hair, perfectly framed between Ben's breastplates. She and Randy tell him that if he leaves to wax his chest, he can come back. Jesus. "Why'd you bother doing that?" asks Simon. He already looks like he's had enough for one season.

Montage time. Guy mumbling unintelligibly. Crackhead-looking girl, wailing through "America, the Beautiful." Rejected auditioners, using profanity and swearing they'll be famous without the help of effing American Idol. We're seven seasons in. Has that ever happened?

Paul Marturano, who seems to have just come from a key party, wrote a love song just for Paula. "I broke into her house/when she wasn't there/took off all my clothes/and tried on her underwear." Little by little, step by step, he gets closer to the judging table, singing his stalking tune. "If she were a doggie/I would walk her/if she were a blackboard/I would chalk her/if she were Columbo/I'd Peter Falk her." You get the idea. Paul gets too close for Falking, so Simon orders him out. He even waves security over. Paula is laughing through the whole audition, but it's cute to see Simon get so protective.

Beth Stalker (that's not a typo, they put her on after the stalker guy) is a mom who sings at nightclubs to make a living. When she was 4 years old, she recorded an album called Little Liz: Jesus Loves Me. Oh, brother. She even brought the record with her. This isn't on CD yet? Are you kidding? Let me jump on eBay right now! She sings "Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered," not the best song choice. It's such a lounge-lizard joke. She has a nice voice, though. It's old school. Very old school, like Connie Francis or Doris Day. Simon doesn't think Beth will stand out in a crowd, but Randy and Paula put her through. I doubt she'll get past Hollywood.

Ben Haar returns with his entire upper body waxed. It didn't help. He wants to sing the Pussycat Dolls "Don't Cha," and gets exactly this far: "Don't cha wish your girlfrien--" Then Simon cuts him off. He leaves. They sure know how to waste time on this show. Simon turns to Paula. "All because that fat lump wants to be on TV." I love Simon this year.

Chris Watson is a slightly effeminate-looking young man, but his pretty face is offset by dreads and a deep speaking voice. He wants to be a legend someday. And this is the place for that...how? Chris sings "Follow Me" by Uncle Kracker and it's pretty damn good. I don't even like the song and I'm impressed. The kid can sing and he has presence. He gets triple yesses to Hollywood.

Commercials. If Cloverfield sucks, I'm gonna slap J.J. Abrams in the head. Also, this new Terminator series is pretty good. If you're inclined to watch such things, I recommend it.

Christina Tolisano is a geek. You can wear that comfortably and function in society, as I do, or you can ramble on about being discriminated against and mocked as a misfit. That's Christina, who has made the choice to show up with Princess Leia buns attached to her head and a big-ass Star Wars belt buckle while viewing the world with utter contempt. The first time we see her, she makes a Wookie noise. Christina is 24-years-old, which normally is neither here nor there, but by that age, for God's sake, know better!

She wants out of her home town because if she stays, she'll have no choice but to become a corrections officer. So her town has no retail stores or restaurants? There's not even a CVS or a Rite-Aid? Actually, I think I once saw Kurt Russell rescue the President from Christina's town. It's a harsh place.

Christina is angry even before auditioning for the judges. It's like she came here just waiting for somebody to start something. I don't know what she thinks she has to prove. If you can't laugh at yourself -- or can't deal with being laughed at -- don't wear Star Wars buns on your head! I don't know why this kid is pressing my buttons. I think it's because she makes the rest of us geeks look bad. "I don't normally dress like this," she says. Then why did you? Why did you today?!?

She sings "Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me." Parts of it are crap, but other parts are not bad. Christina gets bounced, though, and here's why: she's a freak. She came dressed in a costume, her personality is, at best, out of whack. How can they put her through? She can’t seem to function in society, let alone Hollywood. I think if just came without the getup (and 50 percent less attitude), she might, might, have made it through. But as is, no frickin' way.

Christina says she's proud of being a dork. Here's my guess: she isn't. In fact, she hates it. She also describes herself as a goofball. Here's my guess: she isn't. She thanks the judges, exits, and starts cussing up a storm. Embraced by her grandparents, she rants about how everyone’s a dork-hater. Grandma whispers something like, "Don’t swear, you're on TV." Heh. Christina interviews that she was judged on her appearance. Yes, Christina, because your appearance was koo-koo-krazy. Somebody needs to sit this girl down and have a conversation with her. One that isn’t in Huttese. The last remaining contestant slips past the fuming Christina Organa to meet the judges.

Brooke White is a nanny for twin baby girls. She's never seen an R-rated movie. Apparently, that's how she was raised, and it worked out well enough that she stuck with it. She's married, and her husband doesn't watch R-rated films, either. He just masturbates to the sight of Disney princesses. The judges (especially the guys) have a good laugh over the whole situation, and the thing that's wonderful about Brooke...the thing that makes her the polar opposite of Christina? Is that Brooke is like, "Go ahead, laugh, I know it's weird, what can I tell ya?" I like her! She's a bit of a character, in a Phoebe Buffet kinda way.

She sings a song called "Like a Star" by Corinne Bailey Rae. Very nice voice. Gentle and pure. Brooke gets her golden ticket, and that wraps the Philly auditions.

But wait, there's more.

Christina is outside, bitching on her cell about how the show just wants superficial looking girls, "with the makeup and the hair...they all look the same, they all sound the same...they're not different." As she says this, we see people of all shapes and sizes exiting the judging room with their golden tickets. There are pretty girls and hot boys. There are girls and boys who are not so easy on the eyes. One might even say they're ugly. And there are even some fatties. So suck it, Christina. It's not them, it's you.

Tomorrow, it's more of the same as we go to Dallas to meet another gang of lunatics.

Meanwhile, I'm going to Toshi Station to pick up some power converters.
-Frank