Hollywood Week

In which Bryan Adams earns a dollar

by Frank Pittarese

We're finally here. Hollywood Week. It's really more like Hollywood Day, because tomorrow night is mostly just results leading into the Top 24. But hey, auditions are over. Count your blessings. Seacrest gives us some pertinent info. From all over the country, only 164 people made it through to Hollywood. That's a lot of time wasted. No wonder Cowell is so cranky. We see some of the hopefuls packing to leave home. "Many of them have grown up watching this show," says Ryan. "They think they know what's in store for them. They have no idea." Yes, they have no idea how the producers have messed up this part of the show. "Welcome to an all-new Hollywood Week. This is American Idol." Put the needle on the record.

The contestants arrive in droves, as Seacrest explains that everything they know about Hollywood Week, they learned on TV. It's a shame...ever since they stopped teaching American Idol in high school. Flashbacks remind of us the late night partying of earlier seasons, the bitter rivalries of Group Night, and contestants who got mouthy upon receiving their final rejection. "My spirits have been broken," says one ex-auditioneer, who I vaguely remember as being an asshole. After tonight, this whole show has been broken. Or more broken. It's a matter of degree.

This year, the format has changed. Lemme see if I can break it down. In Round One, each contestant takes the stage and sings alone. He or she may play an instrument, if desired (not necessarily if able). If they get approved by the judges, they skip forward to Round Three. If they get rejected, they can come back for a do-or-die second chance in Round Two. Then, those survivors, combined with the Round One remainders, will sing once more, with a band and three back-up singers. And the fun bitchy drama of Group Night? Forget it. Group Night is gone.

And now a word from me. It's bad enough that they put us through weeks of stupid auditions only to short-change Hollywood Week by cramming it into a single two-hour show. Now, they've eliminated the only truly interesting part of this competition. On Group Night, everyone's true colors come out. Who gets along with others? Who's a diva? Who's a lazy sack? Personalities abound. With that element gone, we're left with more of the same. Stand-and-sings, supported by short video packages. It's stupid and it serves no one. I hate it. That is all.

So now that I'm done cyber-spitting at the producers, let's get on with this exercise in liposuction.

Round One:

Brooke White auditioned in Philly. She's the one who has never seen an R-rated movie. Today, she's stunned and intimidated -- but not enough to leave behind an enormous keyboard, which she plays while singing "Beautiful" (not the James Blunt song, but another one). She sounds okay, but I think she'd be better if she focused on her voice and not her Casio. Simon likes her because she's got a Carly Simon/Carole King happening. This from the man who rejects people for not being "contemporary." Brooke is forward to Round Three.

Lorena Pinot (have we seen her before?) is wearing a skirt that's too short for primetime. Simon says she sings like her "mum" getting drunk. Amy Flynn, the Abstinence Coach, hits a bum note then tries flirting with Simon. No to Amy, which is good because I really, really dislike her. Leo Marlowe, the Gay from Omaha, fucks up that Bryan Adams song from Robin Hood. All three have to return for Round Two.

Alisha Dixon has guitar problems, and also voice problems. She sing-yells till Simon stops her. Simon also hates Micheal (sic) Sanfilippo's guitar-playing. And Alyssa Coco gets five seconds into her keyboard extravaganza before she's cut off. Shaun Barrowes plays his keyboard like a drunken Billy Joel, which, technically, is right on the money. Then Jake Mellema comes out and plays the drums while singing "Hooked on a Feeling." He does this with a straight face. It's...oh, people, it's not good.

David Hernandez auditioned in San Diego. We never saw him before, but we get treated to a flashback as the show tries to convince us that this is a memory and not new information. 'Then,' he sang "Ain't Too Proud to Beg" and got three yesses. Now, he sings "Love the One You're With." On paper, he's fine. He has a solid voice. But personally, I find him theatrical, and his performance is overwrought and irritating. The judges lurve him and his confidence. He's on to Round Three.

Amanda Overmyer, the Rock-and-Roll Nurse from Atlanta, had a car accident a couple of weeks ago. And she's okay. So the point of this story is...? Oh, she has 12 staples in her head. That's something, I guess. "Hopefully, if I survived that, I'll survive this week," she says. Dare I hope that this is the season where the contestants are hunted like dogs? She performs "Light My Fire" like it owes her alimony. It's good, if a little angry. I can almost see myself liking Amanda -- but if she does the devil horns thing again, it's over. She's Round Threed.

Then a bunch of people forget their lyrics, including a dirty, filthy hippie, Cardin McKinney, whom we saw last week (I described her as a coulda-been Top Model) and who I kinda like, and lastly, a girl who completely forgets the words to "Sway." She pretty much stands there like an moron before singing "kill me nowwww!" I feel ya, sister.

Ghaleb Emachah was the annoying Antonio Banderas guy who auditioned in Miami. The fact that he's standing here is a practical joke on all of humanity. He flirts with the ladies, kisses Cardin McKinney on the cheek, boasts about how he speaks four languages, and talks about how sexy he is. He's so skeevy. And he's 40 years old, I promise. He sings the Robin Hood song, too, off key and in broken English. This, my friends, is terrible. Paula is let down, especially in light of his first audition, which was sucky...but...less sucky? He's rejected off to Round Two. I don't think we see him after this, though.

Josiah Leming, a.k.a. Homeless Car Boy, plays the keyboard while singing Mika's "Grace Kelly." It's madness. He's not quite singing at first, then he's falsetto-crazy, then he's yelling. It's not very good...but it's not very bad, either. I'm confused, but the judges are crazy about him. Simon says this: "I think out of all the auditions, this is the one I'm gonna remember." The what now?

Danny Noriega, Young Gay Mr. Spock, sings a Leo Sayer song and does well. Ramiele Malubay, who I don't recall seeing, but I feel like I've typed her name before, sings "Till You Come Back to Me," more than adequately. Carly Smithson, the Irishwoman, sings that Leo Sayer song again and she's great. Michael Johns, the Australian, sings "Light My Fire," and while he's no Jim Morrison, he gets triple-yessed.

David Cook, one of the few rocker guys we saw this season, takes his turn. I liked him at auditions because he wasn't doing the expected rocker schtick (also, I'm a sucker for a guy in a sweater vest), but now I see he paints his fingernails black. Note to guys who do this: Carson Daly painted his fingernails black. For God's sake, what more do I need to say? David sings that Robin Hood song (yes, I know what it's called), sounds great, but gets shit from Cowell because he's hiding behind his guitar. What the fuck? Whatever, Randy and Paula put him through to Round Three.

Other people sing the Robin Hood song. They include: ex-Boy Bander Robbie Carrico, ex-meth head Jessica Brown, single dad Perrie Cataldo, Syesha Mercado, who was happy, happy, happy during her first audition, and blondie-blond Colton Berry, never seen before today. (But, spoiler alert: keep an eye out for him.) Jessica gets a no. Randy: "I didn't get it at all." Perrie gets a no. Simon: "That has no relevance in today's charts at all." Dude, it's the fucking Robin Hood song. Syesha is sick with the laryngitis. Syesha: "I can't talk!"

Kyle Ensley is the last audition of the day. He's the nerdy kid from Dallas who wants to be the President of the United States of Best Friends and make every day Saturday. I kinda love him a little. He sings...heh...he sings "Love Grows (Where my Rosemary Goes)" by Edison Lighthouse. It's a ridiculous, hokey choice, but endearing, and Kyle's voice is not unpleasent. Simon says no, but then Paula goes on a tear about Kyle having spirit, and bringing that spirit to whatever he sings. Cowell about busts a vessel, and reiterates his "no" before storming off the set in a huffity-huff. Poor Kyle is like, "Mother, may I be excused?" And he will be, to the desperation of...

Round Two.

116 contestants (out of the original 164) have come back for their do-or-die second chance. They take the stage in groups of ten, stepping forward one at a time to sing a capella for just a few seconds. Once each row sings, the judges will make their final decision. It's very much like A Chorus Line, except for being boring, forgettable, and completely uninspiring.

Out in the hallway, Amy Flynn doesn't have sex and rehearses with her voice coach, who happens to be an ex-Idol contestant. Did this woman even make Top 24? Why not call Anthony Federov? He's not doing much these days.

Meanwhile, Suzanne Toon and Perrie Cataldo are singing the single-parent blues. He's the one whose wife was killed "doing the wrong thing at the wrong time" and who named his son after bottled water. She's the single mom with the Shirley Temple curls (but her hair's been straightened since). She sings "Summertime" and it's halfway decent. He sings some R&B song and it's a cliché of runs and Will Smith huh's and a stupid sideways baseball cap and he's gross. They're both cut, along with Colonial Marine Girl (Zpia something or other) and Arm Wrestling Girl from a couple of episodes back. We don't hear a peep from either of them, and this information is courtesy of my sharp eye. So what's Perrie gonna do now? "I'm gonna slap the first biggest dude I see," he informs us. Ah, so another "wrong thing/wrong time" is on the horizon for Perrie.

Amy Flynn is back like the herpes. She sings Taylor Dane's "Love Will Lead You Back," and performs it like a showbiz kid. Lots of 'agonized pleading' in the eyes, like this is the Most. Sincerest. Song. Ever. Lots of crap notes, too. Amy gets cut, so she leaves to go abstain until 2025.

A bunch of other people we never saw get cut, too. That's fine. Some never-seen girl cries into the camera. That's fine, too. Then there's a montage of people facing judgement, but it's impossible to tell who's getting booted. It's confusion all around. The judges call names, people step forward, shots of people walking off stage. Random faces, coming and going. I think we just lost the chick who sounded like Dolly Parton, but that's all I can tell you. After getting cut, Kayla Hatfield (Car Crash Rainbow Girl) is so overcome with hysterical grief that she can't even speak. Seriously, how could she not know she was terrible? Angelica Puente, who taught her father a harsh life lesson by moving in with her grandmother, is also removed.

Kristy Lee Cook auditioned with "Amazing Grace," and to save her neck she sings it again today. It's nice, but she might have trouble singing that one during Disco Week.

Jeffrey Lampkin is the 400-pound man-mountain who auditioned with his sister, a woman-mountain. He runs around screaming and "cheering" for the other Idol-potentials. I'd like him more if he were in drag. His sister was already cut, and now Jeffrey sings some old jazz song about food. "Scoop me up a mess of that chocolate swirl/don't be stingy/I'm a growing (boy)." Dude, you don't need anymore chocolate swirl.

Angela Martin auditioned in Philly. She's the single mom whose daughter has Rett's Syndrome. Her sob story continues as she tells us her father was just "killed." She was going to give up, but her sisters pushed her to come to Hollywood, where she's cut.

Meanwhile, Jeffrey, Kyle Ensley, and Kristy Lee Cook, are put through to...

Round Three.

Here's how it works: the contestants will sing with the band and have the benefit of background vocalists. They can sing "any song" that they want (from a pre-approved list of songs). This is the same set up as the Top 24 will have next week. When all is said and done, the judges will deliberate, choosing the final 24 from the surviving talent pool.

David Archuleta, a.k.a. the Boy With the Paralyzed Vocal Chord, impressed the judges in Round One by singing "Waiting for the World to Change." Flashbacks return us to that moment, which we'd have seen if the editors did their job and included this clip during the earlier segment. Simon thought he was incredible, but David thought Simon would hate it. Awww. For this round, he's singing Bryan Adams's "Heaven." Okay, first? He's adorable. Second? One of the background singers is totally crying over him. Third? He's awesome. Randy says David is the best audition he's heard all week. Simon seems to like him on some personal level, rather than as a product.

Kyle Ensley is back again. Boy, he's getting a lot of play tonight. He sings about how we raise him up so he can stand on mountains. He's as nerdy as ever, totally band camp, but enjoyable. Randy really liked it. Paula said it was "safe." Then, Jesus...Simon apologizes for ruining Kyle's moment earlier by storming off. What goes on here? Simon apologizing. Jesus.

Meanwhile, Jeffrey Lampkin makes up new lyrics to "A Whole New World" while managing to look like a Gungan from Naboo. He's dismissed. Joey Catalano auditioned unmemorably in Philly. Today he has a migrane. He's also giving me one. Goodbye, Joey. I will forget you always.

Syesha Mercado, with the laryngitis, uses cue cards to speak because she's saving her voice. On stage, she wails on "Chain of Fools." Wow. Very, very good. Right afterward, she's hoarse again. But she's still in it.

Michael Johns, the Australian, sings "Bohemian Rhapsody." Seriously. But it's okay, he only sings the ballady part from the beginning of the song, before it goes off the rails (ooh, blasphemy!). It's very nice. He should sing the Beatles. Personally. To me. The judges like. He's safe.

Carly Smithson, the Irishwoman, explains away her shaky audition back in San Diego by telling us she's allergic to her dog. She's been using a face mask to let her voice recover. Now she performs Heart's "Alone" and, people, she kills. I was actually watching this worrying that she'd get to the big note and crash. But no, she aces the song. And she's safe.

Asia'h Epperson, with the dead'h father'h, does much better now than she did during her understandably emotional audition. She's quite good. I like these people better when they keep their tragedies at home. Asia'h is safe.

Brooke Helvie, Annoying Pageant Girl from Atlanta, makes "Unchained Melody" sound even worse than it already does. Who knew such a thing was possible. (I realllly hate that song.) Simon stops her with a yes. (He reallly loves that song.) Randy says no, and Brooke keeps singing until Paula finally says no. Had Brooke not been a pest-hole, Paula might have let her slide.

Josiah the Homeless Car Boy was up all night trying to select a song. Then he spent some time pissing off the band, who didn't want to play his arrangement, which he made up in his room. He cries in the hallway before running into the show's vocal coach. She's like, "I love you, Josiah, but act the fuck right." This boy is a weeping willow.

He shows up for his final sing, unprepared and unrehearsed. So what does he do first? He tells the band to leave the stage. Seriously, he's like, "You're amazing, but please leave." Then he sings "Stand By Me" a cappella, "the way (he) hears it in (his) head." It's pretty bad, with warbly-wonky notes all over the place. And that vibratto of his. Whoa. The judges hate on him for his bad performance and diva-esque behavior. Simon is like, "If you're gonna throw out the band, you better be damned good. You were not good."

So Josiah hits back with, "That took a hell of a lot of guts." He is his own champion. Simon does not like that at all, and he tells Josiah that he's being "a teensy-weensy bit annoying." Josiah makes big puppy dog eyes. Simon puts this bad perfomance to "overconfidence. Way overconfidence. Not very nice, is it?" I'm humilated for Josiah, until he starts crying again. This boy ain't right. Anyway, based on his past performance, his tears, his fucking trauma, whatever, the judges vote to keep him.

Josiah wanders off and cries into the camera about how he's not overconfident at all. Then he cries in the men's room about wanting to be in the Top 24. It's pretty likely he stood on a street corner and cried for his teddy bear.

Now it's in the hands of the judges, who sit in the dark, staring at Polaroids of the remaining 50 contestants to decide who gets to be in the Top 24. It's a lot like Mission: Impossible, but without the cool theme tune or Martin Landau. This show could use a little Martin Landau. He'd straighten out that Josiah, for damn sure.

Tomorrow, everybody takes the elevators up to the big room, to sit in the big chair, and get the big news. Are they in? Or are they out?

I am out...
-Frank