American Idol 1/30/07 L.A. Auditions

California Dreamin'...of a Good Episode?!?

by Frank Pittarese

There's no live-action Seacrest intro tonight. We start with opening titles, all business, and return to Ryan's voiceover, set to the tune of Katherine McPhee's Somewhere Over the Rainbow. Lots of Oz allusions are made: a reference to the Yellow Brick Road; there's no place like home. Never let it be said that Seacrest is not a friend of Dorothy. Or a munchkin.

Tonight, we're in Kat's hometown, Los Angeles, California. We see the expected shots of screaming mobs. A random shot of Seacrest's star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. How the hell did that come about? They must've passed the hat in West Hollywood. The judges arrive, to be joined by guest-judge, Miss Olivia Newton-John. They recap her career, which I won't do now because if you don't know who she is, you're either 12-years-old or there's something wrong with you. I will say this, Olivia is getting a lot of play this week. Just the other night, she was on that Grease program, which almost exactly like this show, but full of The Broadway Gay.

Our first auditioneer of the evening is Eccentric. That's what he calls himself. He's really Martik Manoukian, 24. Dressed like something from The Warriors or, if you'd rather, one of the "toughs" from the Beat It video (which, technically, is the same thing), he struts down the street with his corn-rowed hair wrapped in a bandana, wearing an orange shirt and ugly vest with musical notes all over it. In a close-up interview segment, it looks like he has half a goatee on his chin, with the other half drawn in with red pen. This guy is a tool. I'm sure he wants to be TV, like all the other fame whores on this show, but something about him leads me to believe that he really believes his own shit. God, we're five seconds in, and I hate him already.

"I'm very fiery," he says. "I got fire equalling three men." If fire is measured in pounds, Martik weighs less than a bag of Wonderbread. He poses, like he's auditioning for Top Model, and spouts a bunch of nonsense about being a singer/songwriter/model. He carries a battery-operated electronic mic, and does "a panther impression." What's New Pussycat plays as Martik twitches around to his own epileptic choreography. He slinks up the stairs, a male Nastassja Kinski in Cat People gone retarded, and explains his "Panther Man" moves, and I'm am now officially intolerant of him.

He finally enters the judging room and, rather violently, throws his notebook on the ground. Then the sunglasses go flying. Off comes the vest. Paula and Randy start laughing as this idiot peels off his shirt, revealing his not-ready-for-prime-time chest, adorned with a slash-mark tattoo on his left pec. He crawls around, clawing at the air and making phlegmy panther noises. Wow, I think I found the one person on this show that I hate more than Taylor Hicks. He goes into spasms. His mic goes flying. Seriously, this a-hole is getting way too close to the judges, and if I were any of them, I'd call security, because I'm uncomfortable just watching it at home, where there's little to no chance of me getting mauled.

Martik finally picks up his mic as Simon asks him to get on with it. Thank you! He will sing Sweetest Princess, a composition of his very own. He whispers "eccentric...eccentric" into the mic at random points. More slashing at the air. His voice is a yodel. A fast paced, whiny yodel. He sings a mile a minute and sucks so much the San Andreas fault inverts itself into a plain.

Simon calls everything horrific, including the "meowing." Hee. Martik gets a "no" from everyone, although Paula liked the "roaring," and Olivia thinks he was "very original." Randy: "Noooowaaay..." Fool puts on his shirt and leaves, telling Seacrest that he's going to "blow up like Michael Jackson." Hopefully, he's referring to MJ's Pepsi commercial accident, because that I would enjoy.

To the tune of Barry White's Can't Get Enough of Your Love, we meet Sholandric Stallworth, 25, who wants to bring romance and love "back into the music." He says he sings romantically, like Julio Iglesias, who's also famous for appearing as Skeletor in every episode of He-Man, ever. This show is assaulting me tonight. This one sings If Ever You're in My Arms Again by Jeffrey Osbourne. Sholandric's voice is a booming, monotonous foghorn. Simon: "Hideous." Olivia: "Unfortunately, your pitch is not on." Randy: "What is goin' on with this show?" For reals, dawg.

We return from the first break with a Montage of Suck. Angela Mo's voice cracks. Grace Pugal wears what could be a hat, a brown paper bag, or a barf bag on her head, warbling through One Moment in Time. Oh, and she's also standing inside a blow-up bull. Sophat Peou wears a banana costume and shakes maracas as he hyperactively performs Peanut Butter Jelly Time while the costume's face hole covers his eyes. That gave me a giggle.

Here comes Marianna Riccio, 20, who has been singing since she was four. Her mom, she says, has been there every step of the way. We see Mom helping Marianna adhere her contestant number to her bosom. Mom says, "When she came out of my womb she was wailing the whole time." And she "hmmms" for second, to demonstrate. Dad stands there smiling, because he became numb to this fifteen years ago. Mom, as it turns out, was one of Dean Martin's Golddiggers, back in the day. We see her old head shot, then a photo of a young Mom with Dean and the other Golddiggers, then one of her with Frank Sinatra. The Golddiggers, for those of you younger than myself (hi, everybody!), were like Vegas showgirls minus the nipple exposure. (But they didn't eat dog food, like Elisabeth Berkley did in that artistic and thought-provoking Paul Verhoeven film). They appeared on Dean's weekly variety show, singing and dancing and supporting Dean so he wouldn't fall over at any given point.

Anyway...Marianna, Golddiggers...how 'bout the audition? Marianna performs Should I Stay or Should I Go. Yes, the Clash song. No, I don't know why. As she sings, it looks like Cher is trying to break out from inside her face. Simon makes a Cher remark of his own, because it's really that obvious, and comments that Marianna doesn't sound like a real rocker. So Marianna gets down on her knees, and for the blind viewers, she narrates, "I'm down on my knees." This show and its charitable works will go down in history. The 2007 begging trend continues, in this case, endlessly. Olivia tries to good grace the kid out the door, so Marianna turns to Paula, but she's co-co-co-cold hearted tonight, and doesn't want to hear it.

Tears in the hall in the arms of Mom. And still it's not over. Marianna hauls Mom back into the judging room. "She really is good enough," she notifies the judges. Well, that's taken care of. Off to Hollywood she goes! Right. The judges aren't interested. Mom sees the writing on the wall, which says "Your daughter sings like monkey ass," and starts trying to soothe the girl. "Honey, if it's not this, it's something else." I'm sure Wal-Mart is hiring. Enough of her, too. These people are bugging me. They leave. Paula does an excellent eye-roll, as pervo Simon says, "I like mum!"

Randy: "Mom was kinda hot."

Simon: "Mom was foxy!"

Foxy. He must've picked that up at the roller disco last night.

Montage of People Not Taking 'No' For an Answer. Whining, begging. Olivia crosses her eyes. Girl in prom dress with a flower in her hair gets a lot of play, but no means no, and Prom Girl gets kicked to the curb.

Next, it's tonight's pretty, blonde Alaina Alexander, 24. She's been struggling for six years in L.A. and is about to give music up altogether and go back to school. It's worth noting that as she back-stories us, she's wearing better makeup and different clothes than when we see her talking to Seacrest, just before auditioning. Hmm, I wonder if she gets through to Hollywood and they called her back for a post-interview. Nah, this show would never try to fool us like that. She tells Seacrest that this is her last shot. So this particular Sob Story is that the girl wants to sing, and if she can't, she'll go to college. The hell? We've gone from Week One's Crack Baby to this in just two weeks.

After shaking out her nerves, Alaina sings Feeling Good by Michael Buble. She's way too breathy and affected for my tastes, but both Randy and Simon are nodding their heads and loving it. Simon thought it was a "really, really, really great." Is he for really for real? Randy: "I like you. Pitchy all over the place, though." Exactly! So don't put her through! Better people have been rejected, and this girl, at best, is at the same talent level as Nichole Gatzman from last night. Anyway, Alaina cries with joy as all four judges Hollywood her. Ya know, if she doesn't crack there, I think they might try to force her down our throats in the semi-finals. In Simon's eyes, she's good product.

We return from commericals to a flashback of Finale Night, when Taylor Hicks won for the season, then see quick shots of Taylor wannabes: a little kid with baby powder in his hair, that hairdresser oddity from Week One, then we find Phuong Pham, 17, waiting in line and having an ants-in-the-pants fit in a desperate (producer-suggested?) attempt to impersonate the palsy-like movements of Hicks. Interspersed with more clips like that, Phuong interviews that she has a lot in common with Taylor. "He's a self-taught vocalist, so am I. His family didn't support him...and my family still doesn't." She says when she told her mom she was going to audition for Idol, Mom advised against it. "As pretty as you are, you're not TV-pretty. And let's face it, you're not Katherine McPhee." Yowch! As we'll see, Phuong's singing talents are...well, we'll see...but outside of the Taylor thing (which, again, reeks of producer hijinks), there's nothing wrong with her looks. She's not a head-turning knockout, but she's a cute kid. Sounds like Mom's a bit of a bitch. Or maybe it's a case of tough love. After all, Momma Pham has accompanied Phuong to the audition.

So Phuong enters judging. She looks at the 10-foot high poster of Idols behind the judges and says "Oh my God, there's Taylor!" She says this as if he's actually in the room, and all four judges turn around to see. Ha! That was some funny shit. Simon, recovering immediately, asks Phuong how to pronounce her first name.

"Fong," she says.

"Okay, Pong, why do you want to audition?" First up, they totally ran this clip during a montage an episode or two ago. Second, "Pong"? Don't be an asshat, Cowell.

She abandoned music for awhile to please her family, but she's here now. Whatever, it doesn't matter. Phuong sings Dancing in the Streets, dancing herself like Elaine did in that episode of Seinfeld: flailing arms and legs going in different directions. It's like her limbs want to run away from her torso but they can't quite make it. The voice? Just bad. That's all I can say. Bad. Phuong sings a fair chunk of the song, and finally hits a really off note--I mean an off note that she actually notices. She stop herself and apologizes. Nerves, you know. She asks for the judges to give her a chance. No. They're surprisingly kind to her, though, which you don't often see on this show.

Phuong, with Mom, stand with Seacrest. "I thought I had something...now it's done and my dreams are over and there's nothing more I can do." Her mom very lovingly strokes her back. Seacrest, very sincerely, says, "I'm sorry it didn't work out, Phuong, but it was very nice to meet you." This, finally, is Seacrest doing his job and being supportive an auditioneer. It's a very sweet moment. Good on ya, you big poof.

Phuong and Mom exit the building to Taylor's track, Do I Make You Proud, and I realize that we just had a little character arc on this show. A complete Lifetime Movie in five minutes' time.

Next is Brandon Rogers. 28, who has sung background for Anastasia and toured with Christina Aguilera. Brandon is a handsome kid with a bright smile and a vague "young Lenny Kravitz" thing going on. He's also quite charming. He sings Always On My Mind by Elvis Presley, Willie Nelson, or the Pet Shop Boys. Take your pick. His voice is smooth...quite lovely, for a guy. Olivia and Paula (especially Paula) swoon. Simon thinks this was the best audition of the day, and can see Brandon making the finals. Yeah, I can see that, too. He's unanimously voted through to Hollywood.

After the break, we find Sherman Pore lining up outside to audition. I think Sherman is a tiny bit over the 28-year-old age limit, with his receding white hair and grandpa moustache. He presents the intern at registration with a petition which has "an excess" of three hundred and thirty signatures. "I am gonna get on this show," he says. My initial suspicion is that he wants to read someone the riot act. He's here to protest the show being cruel or ageist or immoral. But the show pulls a whammy on me by cutting away to another auditioneer. The resolution to Sherman's story will come later. Whoever edited this episode is making a solid effort tonight! We've had an arc, and now a little cliffhanger. It's starting to feel like somebody actually took the time to make this show, instead of letting it ooze onto America like the gutted intestines of reality TV.

So now we cut to Brian Miller, 19, who was cut from the competition last year, during Hollywood Week. Although we see a clip of him walking up the aisle in a flood of tears, I have no recollection of him whatsoever. Maybe they never aired this clip originally. Brian is a blue-eyed little cutie, but there's something generic about him. He looks like he could be an extra in a WB--excuse me--CW show. Attractive, but vacant, ya know? Brian sings A Change is Gonna Come, loudly and with a hint of musical theater in his voice.

Simon thinks he's nice looking, with a nice voice, but is forgettable. Yeah, I'll buy it. Brian wants to know if he's improved since last year, but Simon can't remember him. Paula finds this outrageous, for some reason. While it's easy to call bullshit on her, it's possible she does remember the kid, because that den mother side of her would've kicked in when he started crying. So Randy, Olivia, and Paula put him through to Hollywood, against Simon's very disinterested "no."

Now, we pick up the Sherman thread. He tells us he wants to audition because his "lady love" of twenty years recently became ill with cancer and was hospitalized at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center. Together, they launched the petition to get him on the show. She was elated through the whole process, as Sherman would collect more signatures. It helped her keep a positive attitude and, Sherman says, choking up, "helped smooth her passing." Whoa.

At judging. Simon points out the obvious age issue (Sherman is 64, incidentally), then asks him why he's here today. Sherman recaps the paragraph I just wrote, but in his own words. He tells the judges that he was doing everything he could to help his lady lift her spirits, but she died on Friday, two days before the auditions. Again, whoa.

The judges collectively "aww," but Sherman doesn't want sympathy. He just wants to sing his song. He does. It's You Belong to Me, originally recorded in 1952, but covered by lots of folks, so you probably know it ("See the pyramids along the Nile..."). This isn't about Sherman sounding good, although he does, it's really about him singing in memory of his girlfriend/wife. It was difficult to watch this, even now, as I recap it, and keep a dry eye. Paula cries 80 proof tears, and I can't blame her. If I were sitting in that room, I'd be a wreck.

Sherman thanks the judges, all of whom stand to shake his hand. An older version of the song kicks in (it's either Jo Stafford or Patti Page), and, as he leaves the building, Sherman faces the camera and says, "I won. I am a winner." 'Nuff said.

We're told by Seacrest that 21 contestants from Day One in L.A. made it to Hollywood, and we see them jumping around with their golden tickets.

Day Two begins with a shot of Simon zipping up his fly. The judges take their places as, in the hallway, Seacrest "interrupts" two overweight people making out. They're dating and are both trying out today.

She's Cavette "Sparkles" Carr, 26, and he's Darold Gray, 20. Darold is dressed in faux army fatigues, with a backwards baseball cap and an ugly-ass silver grill covering his teeth. Like what Flava Flav wears. How anybody can find that attractive is beyond me. It's like looking at an open sore and thinking, "That's hot!" But what do I know. I am to hip hop what Seacrest is to girls: far removed. Cavette has a microphone hanging from her neck. They met at the bus stop, which is also a good place to meet homeless guys, if that's your bag, so despite Darold's oral flaws, Cavette made the right choice. They're soulmates. It's a blessing. Cavette loves his grill, "It's flashy...I love that flavor." I'm not a big "TMI" guy. When people pull that "too much information" crap on me, I usually dismiss 'em as pussies. But here? Now? TMI.

They kiss. Multiple times. Grill porn. After a brief segment where Cavette stutters and stammers in an effort to tell us that she and Darold will be the next AI winners and first couple to do so, we get down to business: judging.

Cavette is first. Why do they call her 'Sparkles'? "Because I glow." She glances at Cowell. "Right, Simon?" She sings Mary J. Blige's I'm Going Down. The performance, like Cavette herself, is an off-key disaster of titanic proportions. She gets on her knees and sings directly at Simon, name-checking him during the song. She winks at him, flirting like someone doing a bad impression of someone flirting. Outside, Seacrest confers with Darold. He's been with Cavette for two years. They're soulmates. Gonna get married.

Back at judging, Cavette tells Simon she thinks he's cute. He says her singing was off-putting. "I still think you're a hottie," she says. Simon says she's making him nervous. Okay, point is, she's not going to Hollywood.

Darold auditions, and they rat out Cavette on her inappropriate behavior. He's not jealous. "Just look at my teeth, what am I gonna get jealous for?" Indeed. He sings David Ruffin's I Wish It Would Rain. Remember that homeless guy at the bus stop? That's what he sounds like. No to Hollywood. Good night to the pair.

Commercials. This Billy Bob Thornton movie, The Astronaut Farmer, looks interesting -- but I remember when it was a TV show called Salvage 1, starring Andy Griffith and the dad from Silver Spoons. This junkman builds a rocketship in his back yard and they go to the moon, easy as you please. They should just put that out on DVD and call it even.

Back at the show, we immediate land in the thick of the audition of Anthony Adams, 23, whose eyes roll back in his head as he sings like there's a tone deaf demon inside him.

Lastly, we meet Eric Mueller, 23, who has "been training for American Idol for the last two years." He's cut off his social life, he says, to focus on his goal. I suspect his social life involves playing HeroClix, Magic: The Gathering, and re-enacting episodes of classic Trek in his mom's basement, but he doesn't get into specifics. He's studied Robert Plant, Aaron Lewis from Staind, and Michael Jackson, "mostly to figure out his featherweight vocals." Eric sits in a chair, staring off into space, looking like a blond David Berkowitz. He narrates that he wants "to take what other people have done, and multiply it, and then raise it to higher heights...fluctuate it, reverberate it, make the vocals blend in with the music and also stand out from the contrast." Yeah, I don't know, either.

Eric tells Seacrest that he studied and practiced four or five hours a day, getting his hands on "programs," teaching himself to sing. Cut to: judging. He stands in a Jolly Green Giant pose, hands on hips. He...um..."sings" Ozzy Osbourne's Sabbath Bloody Sabbath, in high-pitched ventriloquist-style, without moving his lips. When Simon accuses him of not being serious, Eric thinks maybe he was a little loud. "You were a little high," critiques Cowell.

"You want me to go lower?" Eric asks, and I seriously expect him to squat down on the floor.

"Yes," says Cowell.

He lowers his voice (no squatting--he's not that dumb, unfortunately). It's almost as bad as the first time. Simon makes him go even lower. Baby steps toward improvement here, not that the clueless guy can really sing. We can see in his eyes that his confidence is breaking down. He doesn't understand what Simon wants, so he tries singing a different song, which I can't even Google because I can't comprehend a single word. Eric takes his leave--but wait!

Simon looks at his notes. "You had a vocal coach program called Learn to Sing Like a Star." His eyes light up and he races to get Eric back in the room. Learn to Sing Like a Star, you see, is Randy and Paula's make-a-buck DVD. It was from this that Eric taught himself to sing. Pandemonium erupts as Simon runs into the hall, followed by Paula and Randy. Olivia is left behind, a poor man's Sandra Dee. In the hall, there's Paula-on-Simon grabbing. Randy tries to shoo Eric away. Simon calls him back. Paula pushes Eric away. "Say goodbye!" she yells at him.

"Say goodbye?" he asks. He looks back, confused and dejected, as everyone laughs like cartoon hyenas. At this point, they might as well give him a literal kick in the ass and shoot spit balls at his empty head.

And we are done with L.A. Nineteen more hopefuls made it through to Hollywood on Day Two. Next week, the audition rounds finally end in Texas. That's Tuesday. Wednesday's show smells like mystery meat.

Going lower...

--Frank