American Idol: Tuesday Recap (5/9)

Viva Las Idiots! Welcome to Elvis Night...

by Frank Pittarese

We’re two weeks from the bitter end, says Seacrest. Two ordinary people will sing for 50 million Americans. (Ordinary? Taylor?) The finale will be seen in 34 countries. (Don’t they have their own Idols? Why do they want to watch this mess?) The winner will be a superstar. (Er…right…like Ruben Studdard. Or Fantasia. Or that blonde chick who won last year.) This is American Idol.

“This is where it gets tough,” Ryan says. “On them and on you.” I know that Elliott sweats out eight pounds of his body weight each week from nerves, but me? I’m okay. I sit on the couch. I watch. The only tough thing for me is enduring another Taylor Hicks performance.

Seacrest introduces the judges. Randy loudly boos at Simon because he’s twelve years old. We’re hearing two songs from each contestant, and those songs are courtesy of the late, great Elvis’s estate. A clip reel gives us the lowdown on Elvis. It’s all the good stuff. Nothing about the drugs or the shooting at the TV. The kids are seen climbing on board a private jet to Graceland. Elliott is carrying a camera, which is awesome. I like it that he’s not jaded by any of this. Elvis called Graceland home for twenty years, and now it’s a big old tourist attraction, housing his 150 gold and plantinum albums.

The Idolers arrive in a van, and they’re swarmed by fans at the gate. I’m not sure if these people are plants, American Idol geeks who waited for the kids to show up, or the usual pack of nutters who stand outside Graceland waiting for Priscilla to throw out her trash. Speaking of which, the ex-Mrs. Presley greets the gang at the front door. Man, the years have not been kind to Priscilla. Wait, I take that back. Priscilla has not been kind to Priscilla. It seriously looks like Willy Wonka, as played by Johnny Depp, has crawled inside her body and is just seconds away from bursting forth from beneath her skin. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: attractive people do not need plastic surgery! It just turns them into horrific parodies of themselves. Dumb.

Anyway, Priscilla hugs Chris and says hi to the group. Elliott is beaming, camera in hand. Taylor fixes the lapel of his jacket, and even that innocuous gesture makes me want to feed him to a school of piranhas. Priscilla feels like she knows them all already, she says. She follows the show, apparently. Next, she introduces them to this week's “musical mentor,” the creepy Tommy Mottola. He’s a big music mogul, who’s worked with everybody in creation: Hall and Oates, Jennifer Lopez, Destiny’s Child, Mariah Carey (whom he also married). He has the slimy feel of a Sopranos character. I’m just saying that’s the impression I get. I’m sure he has a heart of gold.

“If Elvis were alive today, he’s certainly cheer you on,” Priscilla says, before vanishing completely from this episode. I wonder what that would have been like. He’d be really old, so I’m sure they would have invited him to guest-star, and I imagine he’d be a big supporter of Kellie Pickler. Anyway, Tommy thinks this will be the best A.I. show so far, because of “how personal” each Idoler made their song. Yes, because the lyrics to ‘Jailhouse Rock’ inspire nothing but the deepest, most introspective thoughts.

Taylor Hicks starts the night, which is good, because it gets him out of the way all the sooner. He’s singing the aforementioned ‘Jailhouse Rock.’ He feels it’s “completely fitting” because of “the dancing” and “the whole nine yards.” Tommy Mottola wants Taylor to move the key up a half tone, and thinks the song will allow Taylor to shine.

Taylor begins his song from amidst the audience. It’s exactly what you’d imagine. He’s all hunched over like he’s got the shits, doing that gruesome squat-walk of his. He shakes his knees and spazzes out, and It’s worse than usual because it seems he’s trying to channel an Elvis vibe without doing a literal impersonation. The result is that he looks like any overweight guy you’ve seen dancing at a wedding after having too much to drink. (And I think I’ve just merged a bunch of old Simon Cowell critiques right there, but they’re all very apt.) Taylor’s mic wires suddenly become sentient and try to escape, but he just flaps his arms, and continues with his epileptic seizure. I should add that his voice is fine.

The audience goes nuts because they’re idiots and I hate them.

Judges. Randy: “You are in your element now…way to start off the show.” Paula: “You’re original as ever and you were phenominal.” Right here he starts wooing. America, will you please vote against this fool?  Simon, keeps it real: “In the real world, that was a terrible impersonation of Elvis Presley. The dancing was hideous…it was just karaoke with a capital “K.” Paula and Randy, of course, scream over Simon, and the audience boos. And then Taylor shouts “Soul Patrol” five hundred times because he’s trying to hurt me.

Seacrest asks Simon if he’s ever lived in the real world, which Taylor and Paula find hilarious. “Staff at his house, staff here, a driver, a Rolls Royce. Please, that’s hardly the real world.” Yeah, and I’m sure Seacrest is down with the common man, eating at McDonalds and mowing his own lawn. I love ya, Seacrest, but you can be a real asshat sometimes.

Chris Daughtry gets the first Coca-Cola interview segment. Seacrest asks him about his fan clubs, of which there are many, and the gifts he gets. Chris got junk food, a belt buckle, a watch, cologne, and sunscreen for his beautiful shiny head. No mention of the jockstrap I sent him. “There’s a…debate goin’ on with all of my fans, and to answer their question, it’s boxer-briefs.” This is met with a small amount of laughter, but generally, you could hear a pin drop. That’s because this show is so ridiculously middle-America-wholesome that Chris may as well have started talking about his bowel habits. Underwear? Shocking! Break out the smelling salts, Margaret! Reinforcing this, Seacrest jumps from his chair and moves away from Chris, lest he be tainted by the fact that Chris is…wearing underwear? I don’t get it. It’s retarded.

Chris is singing ‘Suspicious Minds.’ (Thanks for listening to my suggestion, Chris!) Tommy Mottola tells Chris to dig in and really get into it. He feels Chris’s voice will be “amazing on record.” And on 8-track, as well.

Chris sounds good. This is another instance where he can’t scream much, so he’s forced to actually sing, and the guy has a nice voice. The song is great. It’s my favorite Elvis song, probably because it’s “real,” and not about hunks of burning love or whatever nonsense. There’s not much to critique here. It’s a solid performance, and Chris looks hot, as usual, although a little too casual for the tonight’s theme.

Judges. Randy: “It was nice. I don’t know if it was your best vocal performance for me, but it was kinda nice…kinda nice, kinda nice.” Paula: “You forget how great that song is till you hear Chris Daughtry sing it. See ya in the finals!” Simon: “Sunglasses aside, that worked.”

Seacrest appears to dole out the numbers, and with his arm around Chris says, “He’s standing here in hybrids, ladies and gentlemen, now all of America knows that.” Then he whispers to Chris, “That’s what we call boxer-briefs.” Hybrids? No, that’s not too gay, Seacrest. By the way, International Male called. Your teal silk kimono is on backorder.

Elliott Yamine is singing ‘If I Can Dream,” which I didn’t recognize till I actually heard it. (I grew up in an Elvis-obsessed house, so there are few, if any, Elvis songs I don’t know.) Tommy Mottola says Elliott needs a lot of practice, because Elliott is having trouble with the lyrics.

Ell cleans up nice, but I’m not really feeling this performance. It’s a little draggy and boring at first, which is the song’s fault and not his, but it’s up to him to bring some life and personality to it. Luckily, he pulls that rabbit out of his hat before the song is over, raising his energy level a bit and ending on a high note. Still, it was just okay for me. I like the sound of his voice, and I’d love for him to win, but this song doesn’t push my buttons.

Judges. Randy: “You laid it out, that was hot, baby!” Paula: “I think this is the best vocal performance you’ve done this entire season.” Simon: “So far…that was the best performance so far.”

Katharine McPhee is bending the rules and singing a combination of two songs: ‘Hound Dog’ and ‘All Shook Up.’ They have similar chords, I guess, and they’re both rather silly, so whatever. Tommy Mottola was impressed with Katharine. “She’s so much better a singer than I’ve heard so far on the show.” Which obviously means that Taylor sucks.

Kat is all high-energy, bopping and dancing and shaking her finger. The song is going a mile a minute, which I guess is a result of the merge. Vocally, she’s okay, but the physical jumping doesn’t help, and neither of these goofy songs really require good singing, which I think will undermine her tonight. They’re “performance tunes” and Kat has enough personality to pull that off, live, but all the movement leaves her out of breath in places. Then, in the thick of ‘All Shook Up,’ she completely forgets the lyrics, mumbling her way into a second of silence while she spins around and gets back on track. By the end, her voice gets kinda shrill…sharp. I dunno. Not a good one from Katharine.

Judges. Randy: “What happened in the middle?” Paula likes that Kat worked the choreography during her brain fart. Simon: “It looked like a desperate. manic audition…it was manic, it was shrieky.” Which, again, true. I don’t know why people shit all over Simon. More often than not, he’s exactly right.

Taylor Hicks gets the second Coke interview. He tells of a “magical golf cart ride” the Idolers took with Lisa Marie Presley, who I guess wouldn't sign a release to be on the show or is too hideous to be seen by the masses. Seacrest wants to know if Taylor asked her out on a date. Because, having married Michael Jackson, Lisa Marie is clearly attracted to life’s more unique offerings.

His second song is ‘In the Ghetto.’ Interesting choice. It’s a good song, but not one that I can take seriously anymore, after hearing Cartman’s rendition of it on South Park. Anyway, Tommy Mottola was impressed with Taylor on this one. He advises Taylor to let people feel the song and not dance around like a mental patient with fleas (except he’s nicer about it than that).

So there he is, sitting on the stage steps, looking all serious and bloated, doing that thing where he waves his right hand around, all sincere. He gets up and because he can’t help himself, starts squatting as he sings. The usual Franken-faces apply here. His voice, again, is fine. Taylor should have existed in 1975, when nobody knew what singers looked like unless they appeared on American Bandstand or Midnight Special, and even then, it didn’t matter because everybody was kinda gross. I mean, have you ever actually seen Boston? The modern age is not his friend.

The audience stands and ovates. There’s Amaury Nolasco of Prison Break. He’s the cellmate of the guy with all the tattoos. And there’s Michael Rosenbaum, Smallville’s Lex Luthor. I’m not used to seeing him with hair, but I kinda dig the short fuzzy-buzz he has right now.

Judges. Randy offers the “real, real, real, real constructive criticism" of “the right key for you, finally. The right song for you, finally. When and if you make a record that’s the kind of record you should make! That was hot, America!” Paula: “You have a playful, unique side and this brings it to show how well-rounded of an artist you are.” Simon: “What you have just done…you have just sung your way into the semi-finals, young man.”

Taylor vomits “Soul Patrol” at us a bunch of times, before thankfully leaving the stage.

Chris Daughtry will next sing ‘A Little Less Conversation’ (also known as That Song from Las Vegas). Tommy Mottola says it’s a diffcult piece. “Words are everything in this song,” he says. That’s because there are three hundred of them.

Chris is singing a little deeper into his range than I like. He sounds like Lou Reed doing an uptempo version of 'Walk on the Wild Side.' It’s more talky than singy at points. Chris works the room, taking his ass and the mic stand onto the little bridge behind the judges. Vocally, he gets back to a more comfortable-sounding—and yelly—place by the end of the song.

Judges. Randy: “That was hot!” Paula: “I adore you, and what I love is that you picked a song that showed a little more personality, too.” Simon: “I thought up until the end it quite a flat performance really…it was okay…it was okay.”

Elliott: Round Two. He’s singing ‘Trouble’ (as in, “If you’re lookin’ for trouble/then you came to the right place”). Tommy Mottola feels Elliott is a “laid back kid…he’s real.” Elliott likes that it’s a rebellious kind of song. This one can go either way.

At the start, it's a little too slow and bluesy, but things pick up after a time, and Ell sings his little heart out, just wailing all over the place. His voice has never been stronger, but I just don’t dig the song. Still, I like Elliott. Taylor may…may…match him in the voice department, but there’s nothing fake about this kid. He’s talented and genuine, and unlike Mr. Hicks, he doesn’t make my skin crawl when he’s on screen. I think this second performance saved him from elimination tomorrow, but it’ll take a miracle to reach the final two, so I wish him well.

Judges. Randy: “On the stage, I think personally, that was your best performance ever.” Elliott lets a out a semi-exhausted “woo.” Paula reneges on her earlier comment: “I think this was your best performance ever in this competition!” Simon: “You’ve come out fighting, you’re showing personality. You know what, you deserve to go through to the next round.”

Seacrest comments on Paula’s dancing during Ell’s performance. “Did you see the moves that Paula was pulling off? I feel like I’m obligated to give her a dollar.” Ouch! Just when you thought their feud was fake-repaired. Simon is offended on Paula’s behalf (because she’s just sitting there, pouting), “Thank you, Ryan. Thank you, Ryan. Bit disrespectful, thank you.”  

Katharine McPhee is the last of the bunch. She’s singing ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love,’ a beautiful song which she will hopefully sing beautifully. And hopefully remember the lyrics. Tommy Mottola tells her to pay attention to what the lyrics are actually saying and to project. She knows this, dude, trust me. He thinks she has a special voice.

Okay. A solid start here. She sounds good. But now she’s adding some runs where they shouldn’t oughta go. She’s glory-noting all over the place. It’s loud where it should be soft. Forceful where it should be intimate. I don’t know. Is this Tommy’s doing? Kat’s choice? It’s too much, regardless.

Judges. Randy: “I think that was better than the first song.” Well, that’s something. Paula: “I’m used to hearing your ballads and you have a lovely voice.” Simon: “This hasn’t been one of your best nights...it was so over-the-top…I don’t think you chose the right songs tonight and that arrangement was too much.” See, like I said.

Katharine is either disappointed in her critique, in her performance, or both, as Seacrest recaps the songs and the numbers. I think she should be worried. Before the show, I thought Elliott was the most likely candidate to go home, but after two weak songs from Kat, and less-than-enthusiastic reviews from the judges, I much fear we’ve seen the last of Ms. McPhee.

Be here here tomorrow when four become three…