American Idol 2007: 1/16
Auditions, Agony, and Attitude
by Frank PittareseJanuary. The chill of winter in the air. The added pounds of holiday calories. And the sweet scent of American Idol.
Welcome back, people. Let's get started!
We begin where we ended, with that man-cow Taylor Hicks winning last season. The Voice of Seacrest tells that that together, we created a phenomenon, changed lives and discovered remarkable talents. We see a Clay Aiken in his awesome audition nerd phase, then after his horrid KD Lang makeover. There's Ruben Studdard, looking like a chubby slacker, then later, looking like chubby slacker with money. Fantasia appears. Kelly Clarkson wins a Grammy. Jennifer Hudson's Dreamgirls success is mentioned. Seacrest says we made Carrie Underwood a country superstar. I certainly didn't. We made Kellie Pickler a household name. She is? We made Chris Daughtry's first release the fastest-selling debut rock album ever. Get out! And we turned Katherine McPhee into America's sweetheart. I thought that was Lindsay Lohan, but what do I know.
There's some horn-tooting about #1 records, and record-setting turnouts at auditions, blah, blah. What Seacrest really wants to know is, "Who will be the next American Idol?"
Credits. Then we flashback to last year, when Prince showed up, sang his duet-free number, then left without anyone breathing on him. Returning to the present, we learn the first round of auditions are happening in Minneapolis, Minnesota, birthplace of The Purple One. Crowds of people "joyfully" sing 1999 while their grandmothers are held at gunpoint.
Hello to Randy, Paula, and Simon. And…for some queer reason, Jewel, who is guest-judging. There's a quick package about how fabulous Jewel is, with the tooth and the yodelling and the top-selling albums she's recorded that I would absolutely never listen to, let alone own.
Jessica Rhode, 21, is the first auditioneer and just happens to be Jewel's biggest fan. What a remarkable and spontaneous coincidence! Jessica does "professional makeovers" at the Mall of America, then takes photos of her victims. Or clients, if you will. Upon learning she'll be singing in front of Jewel, she gets all nervous and spastic. Fun!
The girl is wearing a dress that looks like three outfits crashed into each other at a very high speed, resulting in a flowing white baggy thing, with denim panties on the outside. Mucho fugly. She's a cute kid, though, for the moment. Then she sings Jewel's Dreams. She sings the way Marlee Matlin speaks. It's awful. The judges (and Jewel) say no to Hollywood. Jessica begins the sad business of begging for another chance. She squats on the floor and cries without tears. The answer is still no. She lingers. Get out, Jessica. The dignity you're bleeding out is going to stain the rug.
But we're not done with her. In the hall, Jessica's mom comforts her while she sobs. I think. Her dad comforts her while she sobs some more. Hmm…about those tears? I see them not. She tells us she has to go now, but we follow her, and follow her, and…okay, she's gone. Viewers, you can come back out now.
Next up, is the lanky Troy Benham, 24. He describes himself as "urban Amish," and looks like the bastard child of ZZ Top, complete with hobo hat, sunglasses, and an overgrown beard. He's never seen American Idol before because he doesn't have a "broadcast television" in his home. I wonder what kind of television he does have. I also wonder how he knew to show up here.
He sing-songs some bizarre thing that sounds like it could be a show tune. Or maybe it's something he sings with his friends when they're out barn-building. Big rejecto for him.
This leads to a Rejection Montage. Some chick tone-deafs her way through Jesus Take the Wheel. Another off-keys Somewhere Over the Rainbow. And a wanna-be Constantine Maroulis growls something vaguely Faith No More-ish (but I don't think that's what it actually is).
In walks Jesse Holloway. Simon asks Jesse if he can win the competition, and Jesse answers using a hundred random words with no punctuation whatsoever. But he says he's unique, which is true. He performs what sounds like My Heart Will Go On from Titanic, then, realizing he sucks, he leaves the room to get a drink of water. Just like that. He walks out.
He returns, not a bother on him, and picks up where he left off, singing all hi-pitched and thready. Just awful. It's also worth noting that he has a cellphone cord stuck in his right ear. Nice. Anyway, Paula rubs her temples and Randy giggles. Simon says Jesse was excrutiating, so Jesse tries singing Michael Jackson's Don't Stop Till You Get Enough. It's higher pitched, like when Lex Luthor sent out that message only Superman could hear.
Jesse gets into a tiff with Simon. Jesse says he can sing. Simon says he can't. Jesse feels he's being treated unfairly. You know the drill. Upon leaving the room, Jesse does that thing where he argues that Simon doesn't know what it's like to sing, and "when was the last time Paula made a record?" I hope that when these dweebs watch this episode, they actually hear themselves and do something constructive with their lives, like work at McDonalds.
Commercials. What is this movie, Bridge to Terabithia? Giants, monsters, ogres? Nobody told me about this. It has a walking tree-man in it, and I know, I know, they did that in Lord of the Rings, but that shit put me to sleep, so let me have my pleasure here.
Back to business. Another character shows up dressed like Apollo Creed from the Rocky movies, all red, white, and blue (boxing gloves included, as well as an Uncle Sam-type top hat). James Brown's Living in America plays over this segment, and I'm sure Mr. Brown would be rolling over in his grave but they still haven't buried that poor man.
Anyway, this guy, Charles Moody, 26, from Brooklyn, is dressed this way to let the judges know he's going to "knock out this performance." He sings "an aria song, in Italian." Honestly, he doesn't sound terrible. His voice isn't at all unpleasant, but the judges aren't having it and ask him to sing something else. He does, but Simon cuts him off immediately. Dude, it's the outfit. You can't show up dressed like an assclown and expect to be taken seriously. For point of reference, watch the show!!
The Sob Story music begins as we're introduced to 16-year-old Denise Jackson. This lovely girl plainly tells us that she was born a crack baby, and that her grandmother saved her from foster care. She's so in.
She enters the judging room, personality first, then sings You're Gonna Love Me from Dreamgirls. Her voice is powerful and echoes through the room. You can't sing this song without some sort of inner strength, and she totally pulls it off. The judges love her, as do I. To Hollywood she goes.
Tashawn Moore, 27, arrives to grace us with her version of Prince's Kiss. Unfortunately, she can't remember the words. She begins mid-song with the "women, not girls" line, which she can't get right. Nor can she get beyond it. She sings some variation on this line, literally, about 20 times. Then she sings silently, to herself, bouncing and moving her lips (with a hand to her ear…you know, where the music is). We watch this in real time, and it's better than 24. Maybe Jack Bauer can put a stop to her.
Tashawn snaps her fingers, finally finding the "act your age, not your shoe size" line, buried somewhere in the dark recesses of her mind, but she barely gets beyond that before hitting another wall. Desperately, she belts out the chorus, gets a solid no from all four judges, and glumly makes her exit.
In the hall, we're introduced to the flirty Perla Meneses who asks Seacrest if he likes Spanish girls. He says yes, which would be an honest answer if he wasn't so completely asexual. Perla came to America at age 15 and was even homeless for awhile, but she assures us that it's not a sob story. "It is a survival story." She's way too pretty and jubilant to get any pity from me, especially after meeting Crack Baby Girl. Perla enters the room with her ass in the air, telling us she's going to "sing Blondie." She's actually singing Call Me, but who am I to nitpick.
Vocally, while not terrible, she's not very impressive, and is really riding on looks and personality. She also gets the lyrics wrong ("roll me up the shiner sheets," being my personal favorite). Then Randy tells her to sing Shakira's Hips Don't Lie, because she's Spanish and that's how they roll on this show. Perla sounds just like the record. Generally, the judges like this, which means if she gets on the show and doesn't do the latin thing every week, they'll attack her. Still, she's through to Hollywood.
Commericals. Now what is this movie? Blood and Chocolate. It sounds like an artsy fartsy thing, but it's about werewolves! Has the interweb been hiding from me? Why don't I know about this stuff? That's two movies I'm excited about and we're not even an hour into the show. I'm not watching anymore commercials. They're costing me money.
Some broke down cowboy dude, Matthew Volna, 25, steps up. He's a fan of Johnny Cash and Randy Travis. He's dressed in a tacky Western shirt and a cowboy hat that looks like it came from Frontier Land at Disney World. He speaks Folsom Prison Blues. That's right speaks. There's no singing involved here, although he's trying to make his voice go deep and Johnny Cashy. Jewel asks him if he's serious. Randy mocks his outfit. Simon calls him pointless. Matthew leaves with his hat between his legs.
After a brief montage of Guys That Suck, we meet Jarrod Fowler, 27, and intelligence specialist in the U.S. Navy. Obviously, he gets through, because here we are, on location, aboard the U.S.S. Ronald Reagan, watching planes take off as Danger Zone plays on the soundtrack and Kenny Loggins earns five bucks in residuals.
Jarrod, who seems like a nice guy, auditions in uniform, because that's how it's done. He sings something by Rascal Flatts, Bless the Broken Road. His voice is nice. Close your eyes and you'll hear Season One's Justin Guarini. Paula eats it up. Simon's wheels are turning. You can see him trying to figure out how to package this guy. My question is, how will Jarrod compete on this show when there's a war going on? I mean, it's not like he's some grunt they can just cut loose. Regardless, he's green-lit for Hollywood.
And there ends Hour One.
As we move on, Trista Giese, 22, chats with Seacrest. She's a big girl, not that that would ever be held against her on this show, and holds the crappiest of crappy cardboard signs. It's like something she made in the 2nd Grade…except she didn't. The sign shows her on the Yellow Brick Road, heading for Hollywood, and she tells Seacrest that she can do an impression of the Cowardly Lion. She demonstrates by doing an impression of Chewbacca.
At her audition, Trista performs If I Were King of the Forest, which the Lion sang in the Wizard of Oz. She sings this in-character. It frightens me.
Of course, nobody likes it. She plays the "I'm unique" card, then laughably says she has range. This girl doesn't have Clue One. After being rejected, she offers the judges her poster, and they refuse it. Hilarious! Mean, but hilarious!
Next we meet vocal teacher Stephen Horst, 28. I sorta like him. He's upbeat, vaguely attractive, and not visably insane, which at this point is enough. This episode has too many crazies, and I'm worried that we'll get three weeks of this, and not meet any good people till Hollywood, if even.
Stephen sings Aerosmith's I Don't Want to Miss a Thing. I'd like to state for the record that there's nothing wrong with his voice. He's not Idol material, not by a long shot, but musical theater? Broadway? He'd do just fine. His voice is masculine and completely in tune. Well, except for this weird and scary falsetto thing that he briefly pulls out of his hat, but you can easily direct him not to do that.
Anyway, what follows is an all-out attack on the guy. Not by Simon, but by Randy! He doesn't like the song choice, and when he learns that Stephen performed the song at Walt Disney World, he really goes after him, telling Stephen that's the best place for him to sing: where nobody is paying attention. He tells the guy he shouldn't be a vocal teacher. And while Simon eggs the argument along, Randy insists Stephen should be great if he's "gonna take people's money." He recommends Stephen sing off-Broadway, at which point even Simon says, "Randy, enough." Seriously, dawg, don't be a douche. Obviously, Hollywood ain't in the cards for Stephen.
After the break, we meet 19-year-old Michelle Steingas. She's a pretty young thing, and looks like the grandchild of Marcia Brady. My spider-sense tells me she's in. Michelle sings a country song and doesn't sound bad. The judges like her, and Simon thinks the public will, too, because she's "confidant without being irritatingly precocious." I'll buy that. She's going to Hollywood.
Next, a brief montage of people who got fired from their jobs when they came to audition for Idol (which, come on, these people work at K-Mart, Blockbuster or Fridays…give them the damn day off. 99% of 'em will be back at work the next day!). It's here that we meet Dayna Dooley, 27, whose boss was so impressed with her singing that he flew her to Minneapolis to try out. And just to assure you there's no monkey business here, he brought his wife along.
Dana sings Tell Me Somethin' Good by Miss Chaka Khan, poor song choice aside, Dana is awful. Her voice is shaky and off-key. She even howls like a banshee at one point. Nope, she's not good, which is unfortunate, because she's a sweet girl. "That song don't even go like that," says Randy, eventually calling her tone deaf. What is up his ass this week? They haul in Dana's boss and grill him, then make Dana sing at him. She's much better, but still…no to Hollywood, Dana.
Little Matt Sato, 16, is next. He's all alone, having drained his parents' financial resources by auditioning all over the place. He's a cute kid, but he's gotta learn to not tweeze his eyebrows so much. It looks draggy. Little Matt sings California Dreaming by the Mamas and the Papas, which is crazy because that song is all about the harmonies and there's only one Little Matt. He's got a nice voice on him. More masculine that you might expect. A bit hoarse in a Demi Moore sorta way. The judges like him and he's through to Hollywood. Then he calls his mom and cries. Then she cries. Awww.
Rachel Jenkins, 21, is next. She's wearing army fatigues and tells us she works in her parents' auto shop, which we see via location footage, so she's in. Her husband is a sergeant in Iraq, and Rachel is in the Army Reserves, ready to go to Iraq when they call. That might be soon, Rach. I'm just sayin'.
She sings His Eye is On the Sparrow, which is apparently not the theme to Baretta. Rachel, with a bit of Kelly Clarkson happening in her face, has a pretty voice as well. Sorta husky. All four judges send her to Hollywood. She kisses her husband's photo and tells him she made it. I like this girl.
Sarah Krueger, 19, is next, and sings Somewhere Over the Rainbow, which is a song I'm not interested in hearing ever again. Her voice is quite lovely, and she totally Katherine McPhees it. Simon is impressed by her control, and Jewel likes her personality, which we certainly didn't get to see, but regardless, it's Hollywood for Sarah K.
After the break…oh boy, what is this experience gonna be like? Here's Jason Anderson, 16, laying on the floor, and Brenna Kyner, 24, applying eight pounds of eyeshadow over each eye. Ya know, just as a touch-up. She looks like a young, Goth version of that Mimi lady from The Drew Carey Show. Brenna has watched the British Pop Idol. She's watched Canadian Idol. She's watched Australian Idol. Guess she's a fan. And a supporter of bootleggers, worldwide.
Meanwhile, Jason has been juggling for the last eight years, dancing for the last five, and singing since he was born. We see him in the hallway, juggling some sticks by bouncing them off each other. It's a nifty trick, and certainly nothing I could do without poking an eye out, so good on ya, Jason.
Unfortunately, Jason decided to juggle his sticks during his audition. Also unfortunate is the fact that Jason can't hold a tune. His voice is weak and toneless. Regardless, I love him to death. He's just a kid, so clearly naïve and clueless about his singing abilities. But there he is, juggling and twirling away. Adorable, awful, and awesome all at once. Simon watches with his mouth agape. Paula squirms. Randy giggles.
Simon says Jason sums up Minneapolis and that even his juggling was terrible. But they make him juggle some more because he is their monkey. He's good, but nervous, and he drops a stick after a few seconds. Randy, full of evil this week, recommends Jason try auditioning for America's Got Some Talent. Jason, still clueless (which is breaking my heart), makes the mistake of telling the judges he can dance, and of course they want to see it. So do I. I feel for the kid, but I'm here for the same reason y'all are.
So Jason dances. And it's like Riverdance threw up. I want to cry, but it's too funny. So I laugh my ass off, and that's exactly how all those kids got killed at Carrie White's prom. Jason, rejected, comes storming into the hallway, and rushes past Seacrest while cursing like a sailor. Bleepity bleep bleep, says Jason. He works himself into a right tizzy. "I can tell they hate me," he says. Then this: "They said Minneapolis had no talent because of me." Hee. Bleepity bleep, as he hugs his mom. Tears upon tears. A universe of pain and suffering. The camera pans over to Brenna, who looks like her ovaries just fell on the floor. Some off-camera producer must wave her on, because she snaps to and heads for the judging room.
Brenna enters and turns on the smile. She talks about being a fan and says her favorite contestant is Ace, from last year. Randy says, "Who's he?" and seriously, I'd have peed myself at the point if I hadn't already gone to the bathroom. "Who's he?" Awesome! Brenna recaps: Ace Young, curly hair, Father Figure, six months ago?!? Nice to know Randy pays attention to the events in his own life.
Ace drew Brenna a tattoo which she wears on her wrist. It looks like a heart, as viewed through the eyes of Hannibal Lecter. She announces that she'll be singing Under Pressure by Freddie Mercury and David Bowie and that she'll win because there's nobody that's been like her in any season of Idol. Nor will there ever be, my dear.
She starts with a screech…an inhuman wail…then strangely shifts into an showtune-like interpretation of the song for 10 seconds, and then she stops abruptly. It's odd and unnerving. Of course, Brenna doesn't understand why the judges don't like her. She's had ten years of training, she says. She has a degree in vocal performance. "Is there anything I can do to improve?" she asks. Simon says "leave."
After commercials, we're treated to a montage of (mostly) rejects, edited together as they sing Kiss. This must be pre-judging room footage, because we saw some of these kids (Jason and Brenna included) audition, and this was not part of that. Regardless, the judges are edited in to make it look like they're in the room. It's fake and it irritates me, so I'll recap this bit no further.
Our last auditioneer is Josh Flom, 20, from Minnesota. He looks like Dylan Walsh had a baby with a boy band. If I were a 16-year-old girl, I'd say he's dreamy. And since I am a 16-year-old girl, I'll say he's dreamy. Josh feels he has a rocker voice, and thanks Chris Daughtry for opening the door for that sort of thing. I thank Chris Daughtry for being hot.
He sings Bad Day by Fuel, and he's all growly, singing from deep in his throat. I don't find this objectionable at all. All those bands have lead singers who sound this way. You know…constipated. I mean, hell, Nickelback is doing okay for themselves. But because Josh is a pretty boy, Randy says it "doesn't feel like you to me." In other words, to be a rocker, you have to shave your head or wear leather or eyeliner. If nothing else, this show is all about putting people in their compartments. Remember Nikki McKibben? Anyway, I'm not saying the kid should win, or even that he's especially good, but it's absurd that they're knocking him because his voice doesn't match his looks. Clay Aiken much, Randy?
Simon wonders what Josh would do if he got through and in week seven, discovered it was ABBA week. When Josh says he'd make it his own, he's given 15 minutes to prepare an ABBA song and re-audition. He runs around, shouting for help, writes down the lyrics to Dancing Queen, and returns. Of course, he sings in the same gravelly voice, and this time, I think he sounds more like Bush's Gavin Rossdale (perhaps at age 12, but still).
The judges don't like it, so Josh foolishly offers to sing a Barry Manilow song. Two lines into Copacabana, and they're in hysterics. "Oh, I'm getting laughed at!" Josh says, and goes on to explain that he's been singing in a band for years and years. They tell him to stick with it. He says he'll work with the Hollywood voice coach if they put him through. But no means no. Josh goes home, as Simon tells him that in a year's time he'll thank the judges for their decision.
Simon kisses the girls and Randy goodbye, as Seacrest informs us that out of the 10,000 people who showed up to audition only 17 made it through to Hollywood. Really? How many did we see? Five or six? This show…
Tomorrow night, it's another two-hour experiment in terror, as we meet the freaks and geeks of Seattle.
Over and out,
--Frank
