American Idol Recap: Semi-finals Round Three: Guys(3/6)

Kill me now.

by Frank Pittarese

"Eight guys left in the competition. Only six will make it into the Top 12." This from Ryan Seacrest, our very own Exposition Fairy. Hey, Seacrest, who's in charge here? "You take control." Thanks, ever so. And what fine parody of The Gong Show might I be watching? "This is American Idol. "

Post-credits, the guys mug for the camera. How time flies on this show! Blake makes devil horns with his fingers and extends his tongue like Gene Simmons. Sanjaya has cut and flat-ironed his hair straight, somehow managing to make himself look even more effeminate. Sundance looks bloated. Attach a basket to him fast, so Dorothy can get home before he floats away. Chris R. looks like a high Tiger Beat pin-up. Jared Cotter is wearing an argyle sweater over a button-down shirt. Guess the Beaver stole his pipe. Brandon Rogers is the incredible shrinking contestant. If he makes it to the end of the competition, he will sing from inside a dollhouse. Phil Stacey is incognito. More on him later. Chris Sligh blows us a kiss, giving all of America his cooties.

Seacrest says that not only will the Final 12 be decided on Thursday, but that they're also going to "announce one of the most important events in Idol history. Trust me, you'll wanna be here for that." If he's not referring to his and Cowell's civil union, he must be talking about the songwriting competition, which he already told us about, weeks ago. It's not a surprise if we already know, Ryan!

Then he explains that tonight's theme involves the contestants revealing something about themselves that we don't know. Is everyone sitting down for this? Because these revelations will make headlines tomorrow, I promise you.

Blake Lewis's secret is that he loves improv, comedy, and character acting. Halloween is the best time of year for him. In his clip, he "instantly" changes into an awful Cletus, the Slackjawed Yokel-type character named Jimmy Walker Blue, complete with fake buck teeth and a black wig. Blake invented this character all by himself. If this is his idea of comedy, the Police Academy movies will never die. The night is getting off to a great start right here.

Blake sings All Mixed Up by the band 311, making record-scratching sounds with his voice the whole time. Scatting whenever he can work it in. He doesn't make a big effort with the actual singing parts of this song, but that's okay, because his voice is enhanced with an echo effect. Echo effect? Excuse me? There's lots of reggae-rap happening, too. By the halfway point of this one-and-a-half-minute performance, I'm over it. When Blake sang that Keane song during the first week, I was floored. The judges, not so much. Then he did the beatboxing thing last week, and the judges did a happy dance, essentially directing Blake to do more of the same. This is the end result. It's unique, but highly annoying. I want singing, not sound effects.

Judges. Randy loves the hip-hop/reggae thing, although he didn't recognize the song. Paula didn't know the song either, but she was interested. Simon didn't understand a word Blake sang. I just want to say that this song was a pretty big hit about a decade ago, and if I know it and the judges don't, we've got a problem. Anyway, Simon likes Blake's current, unique style, and says he'll be back next week. With more android noises. Yay. At least he's pretty.

Red Room Interview. Seacrest is seated on the couch, between Sundance and Sanjaya. He wants to know what was up with "all the tears" during last week's Results Show. Sundance blames Chris R. for crying in the first place (except we never saw Chris R.). Seacrest says Simon thinks the whole crying jag was artificial, done for the cameras. "I didn't even know a camera was on me," Sundance says. Cut to Simon, rolling his eyes at Sundance's massive lie. Awesome!

Sanjaya Malakar likes to think we'd be surprised to know he can "actually" hula. As Cordelia Chase once said, I register no surprise. We see him swaying and swirling his hips, then waving his arms, like a glorious lady of hula. All he's missing is a grass skirt and tits, but give him a few years.

He sings John Mayer's Waiting on the World to Change, and it's as dull as you'd expect. The kid has no personality, no stage presence, and not even a hint that a spark of life resides in his scrawny body. He's like an animatronic Disney World creation, programmed to stand and sing while we all wait in line for the good stuff. Toneless. Hollow. Terrible.

Judges. Randy doesn't think Sanjaya's been really good since auditions. So why is he standing here now, Randy? Because I sure as hell didn't put him through. Paula thinks that Sanjaya should get out of his comfort zone and raise his game. Simon calls the "hula-hooping" and Paula hairstyle (which, exactly! ) weird. It wasn't a very good vocal, he says, "but maybe your hair is keeping you in." It's interesting to note that the audience is silent here. Not a random boo or groan can be heard. Could the tide be turning against the talentless teen? Tune in tomorrow to taste the truth.

Sundance Head's big secret is that he's actually thin in real life and just wears a fat suit for the show. That's really what he says. Here's my big secret: Sundance is an asshat.

He sings Pearl Jam's Jeremy, and there are three things happening at once. First of all, I hate Pearl Jam. Always have. I especially hate this song. Next, Sundance's head has been given a makeover, starting with a fauxhawk, then a fierce eyebrow wax in the middle, and ending with a trim of his chin pubes. His face now looks completely artificial. I half expect him to pull it off like a Mission: Impossible mask to reveal Taylor Hicks underneath. Last up is the voice. Sundance is yelling and trying to gruff it up, making an already lousy experience even more unpleasant. It's like listening outside the door of a person singing in a room, and that person can't actually sing, but they're carrying on as if they're a superstar. Pop in on them, and you might even catch them playing air guitar. That's Sundance.

Judges. Randy loved Sundance putting "the southern rock thing on a Pearl Jam joint." Paula thought he did really, really well. Simon thought he lost his charm and sounded like a very generic bar singer.

Post-commercial, Seacrest interviews Travis Tritt, who is sitting in the audience. Randy is producing his upcoming album, which I'll be sure not to purchase.

Chris Richardson's secret is that he used to play football and he was a big ol' fatty. We see photos of him, and he doesn't look too bad. A little more solid than he appears now, but he's no Sundance. Do you see how shocking these secrets are? Don't you want to call everyone you've ever met and share these revelations with them? One guy likes comedy, another one can dance like a Hawaiian chick, another used to be forty pounds heavier. I hope the Lost writers are taking notes, because this is how you keep viewers riveted to their screens.

Chris is sitting on a stool. This is what the young people call "keeping it real." He sings Keith Urban's Tonight I Wanna Cry. I've said it before, I like Chris and think he's easy on the eyes, but his voice just doesn't exist. It's weak and thready to the point where it verges on being spoken-word. There's no power or range that I can hear. This feels like a personality-over-talent situation. That's probably fine. If he wins (doubtful), all these quirks can be fixed in a studio. Maybe he can borrow Blake's echo effect. But here and now, I just don't get it.

Judges. Randy loves the twist he put on the song. "This kid is in it to win it!" Paula likes the way he adapted in a pop/country way. Simon thought it was cutesy and a bit nasally (up in his nasal), but Chris sold it. Seacrest wants to know how Chris lost the weight, but Simon instructs him to "leave the poor boy alone." Seacrest hits him back with, "Let the old man judge, let the young man interview." Comedy gold, top notch singing...this show has it all.

Jared Cotter is next. His big secret? He played college basketball. These revelations are just dumb. All I know is that tomorrow night, Antonella better bring it. "My secret is that I frolic around war memorials in panties and a wet t-shirt. Oh, that's not a secret? My bad." That would be awesome. I might even throw her a vote.

So Jared, in his argyle sweater, sings Stevie Wonder's If You Really Love Me like he's late for another appointment. Seriously, what is with the pacing of this song? Slow it down before you break something. Jared does slow down for the bridge, where also attempts to act as if he's in the throes of romantic agony. Then he's back to rushing through the song. Vocally, I'm not impressed. He's better than Sanjaya or Sundance, but not as good as Blake (when Blake actually sings) or Chris Sligh. Meh.

Judges. Randy thought Jared gave a solid performance. Paula feels that sometimes Jared shouts the song too much and would like him to "color up" his performances in the future. Don't be racialist, Paula! Simon says it wasn't very original and is disappointed that he's not hearing "the wow factor" tonight.

Brandon Rogers secret is that he's a classical pianist. With Bucky Covington on guitar and Taylor Hicks on harmonica, we're one man away from an American Idol version of the Monkees.

He sings Rare Earth's I Just Want to Celebrate. It's a fun, funky arrangement, and Brandon is in good voice, but it still feels like I'm listening to a lost track from the original cast album of Hair.

Judges. Randy loved the song and thought it gave Brandon a rock edge. He thought it was solid. Paula says it was phenomenal. Simon calls Brandon "Travis," and says it was a bad song choice because it didn't have enough of a hook to be memorable. As Seacrest's musical cue kicks in, Paula calls out, "I think you're great, Brandon! " I love her when she's not drunk.

Seacrest wants to know how badly Brandon wants to win. "More than you know," says Brandon.

"You would do anything, right?" Seacrest asks. "Almost anything?" At home, Corey Clark shoots his TV set as he realizes he tried to frame the wrong person.

Phil Stacey, dressed like a prisoner of war in his interview segment, thinks we'd be surprised to know that he wasn't always bald. You wanna know what's surprising about me? I drink water. And sometimes, I walk around.

Phil sings I Need You by Lee Ann Rimes, and as usual, he gets off to a woeful start. The opening notes sound like fog horns. Then he belts out the chorus and sounds better, same as every week. Who cares? Let's talk about how he's dressed. At first, I thought he looked like a 40-year-old man trying to pass for 16. Think 21 Jumpstreet: The Middle School Assignment. But now, I realize Phil's look is more like an alien coming to Earth and trying to pass as human. He's wearing a big, retro hat, with one ear tucked into the brim and the other poking out, all the better to hide his third eye. And over a modern tee, he's wearing what's pretty close to a Member's Only jacket, minus the label straps. Everything is ill-fitting and mismatched, as he stands and stares into the camera with his hypno-vision. "All your base belong to Phil," he says. Well, at least I think that's what he says, but I've already wrapped my head in aluminum foil to block the message.

Judges. Randy says Phil "reminds him of a guy, Steve Perry from Journey." Who now? From what where? Paula and Simon share an eye roll because Randy name-drops that band at least two or three times a season. He toured with them, you know. So Randy likes Phil's big voice, but says he should work on the low parts of his register. Paula agrees, and doesn't think this was his best performance. Simon thought "the hat, the big eyes, (were) all just insane." Between this and the crack about Sanjaya's Ab-do, I am loving Simon tonight. Simon says Phil's performance wasn't good enough.

Seacrest has a question for Phil. "If you make it, will you squint next week?" Phil promises to surprise us. I predict sunglasses. Big, outdated sunglasses. And laser beams.

Chris Sligh wraps up this painful evening by revealing his jaw-dropping secret: "I had short hair for a long time." I'll alert the media.

He's singing Wanna Be Loved, by dc Talk. They're a Christian rock band, y'all. For me, that raises an uncomfortable red flag as far as Chris S. goes, and I wasn't too keen on him, for starters. His voice is as good as ever. A little shouty in parts, and he loses control of his pitch during some of the more powerful bits. He's still good enough to make Final 12, although his obscure song choices probably aren't doing him any favors. The judges didn't recognize a 311 song, and now he's dropping a holy bomb on them.

Judges. Randy thought it wasn't a stellar night for the boys, but Chris's was the best of the night. Paula says it was middle of the road, for which Randy blames the song because he hates the Jesus. Paula liked last week better. Simon didn't like the shouting, says the song wasn't great or "hooky," but Chris has potential. "Song choice, song choice," says Randy. But don't sing Stevie, Whitney, or Celine, unless the judges like how you sing it. Go figure that one out, contestants!

Chris says this is one of his favorite songs. He likes the sentiment. Then he apologizes to the judges for not "bringing it like (he) should have." Not at all manipulative. Then he asks Seacrest for a hug, which amazingly, Ryan manages to do without actually making any body contact. In case you didn't notice, Pedicure Boy is butch this year. Simon tells Seacrest to knock it off. "He gets excited," Seacrest says.

After the performance and numbers recap, the judges are asked how many guys deserve to be in the Final 12. Randy and Paula say four (I'm guessing Blake, Chris, Chris and Sundance). Simon, ever the scamp, says "three-and-a-half." I'd put through Blake and Chris R., just to see what happens. Maybe Chris Sligh, although I'm weary of him. The rest are entirely forgettable and dispensable.

Tomorrow, the girls sing, and even if they're horrible, they'll still be better than the dreck we heard tonight.

Worst. Episode. Ever.
--Frank