Ryan opens up the show by asking the judges to give some words of advice to tonight's performers. Randy sagely advises them to "be in it to win it" and a collective look of realization spreads across the contestants' faces. I know last week he said the girls already were in it to win it, so it surprises me a bit that some of these guys are so late in noticing that being in it to win it is probably a good idea. You can see fans in the audience hastily revising the signs they're holding that used to read, "I'M THINKING ABOUT BUT MAY ULTIMATELY DECIDE AGAINST VOTING FOR MY FAVORED CONTESTANT."
Michael Johns is up first, and he's all right I guess. He's kind of like this mid-nineties alt-rock robot. Like, if Eddie Vedder's voice were placed into a machine built to look like a relatively obscure J. Crew catalogue model and programmed to do "rock star" things until its batteries wore out. That's Michael Johns.
Jason Castro is up next, and he interviews about how much he dislikes interviews. And having his picture taken. And meeting people. And, you know, just about everything else being on American Idol entails. Meanwhile, every guy who was cut during Hollywood week seethes quietly at home. Thanks, Jason.
Luke Menard decides to endear himself to the audience by talking about his a cappella group, and if he thinks this is what is going to add a shade of dimension to his floofy, girly-voiced presence on the show, he is so very mistaken. The public doesn't get a cappella. You know how I know that? Because I do improvisational theatre, and it's the same thing - you simply can't talk about improv without people being like, "Oh yeah? Tell me a joke!" or using the word "skit" in what they think is a really helpful way. Luke's mention of a cappella is a lot like this; it does nothing to bring the audience any closer to what he's all about, and raises a few misconceptions and stereotypes for viewers who have any frame of reference at all. What happens next is interesting because he chooses a song that is totally right for his voice ("Killer Queen") and totally wrong for his personality, his appearance, his nonexistent performance skills, and this show. The result is that it really doesn't come across at all, and probably plays as really weird for someone younger who has never heard "Killer Queen." REALLY weird. I mean, picture hearing that song being sung by a very unassuming, bland-looking guy, just casually, and having absolutely no context for it... except that he seems to be a member of this lame touring band without instruments.
Robbie Carrico is someone I could not be more bored by.
Danny Noriega disappoints me by singing a slower song with less hip thrusting, and the judges disappoint me by not hating it. Danny, this is how it works - I adore you, and only partly in an ironic way, but your job here is to be abrasive, obnoxious and totally unsuited for this show. The minute you start actually trying is when it starts to suck.
I am in love with David Hernandez. LOVE. I have been saying this for weeks, and just want to reiterate: I LOVE HIM. He sings "Papa Was a Rolling Stone" and by the time it's over I have doodled his name in a heart six thousand times directly on the coffee table. Online rumors say he may have once worked as a gay stripper. Repeat it: LOVE.
Jason Yeager is in deep trouble this week, and neglected to bring along the possibly retarded son who is the only thing that could keep him in this competition. I really don't get it with Jason... his performance reminds me of watching the frontman of some Billy Ray Cyrus cover band in some very, very small town somewhere. I dislike it. A lot.
Chikezie has evidently been sent home after all and replaced by another guy named Chikezie who can actually sing. This development has thrown my office Idol pool into a tailspin.
David Cook is a "word nerd" who does crossword puzzles. The editors use this opportunity to cut a quick montage of all of the "big words" David has used in interviews, which are all, you know, regular words used daily in the parlance of the secondarily educated. Which is really more insulting to AI and its audience than to David - what it shows is that he's basically literate, and they're incredulous of that. Simon hates this interview choice, but I like it because it does two things that these stupid pre-performance clips never do, 1) doesn't strive for categorization and storyline ("I'm a great Dad!" or "I used to be fat/poor/a farmer!"), and 2) actually make me see the contestant in a new light. Not that I'm wicked impressed by David Cook's supposed crossword ability, but the fact that he would share something so mundane with so little apparent agenda makes me like him more. Obviously not a lot more, because I forget what he sings. Seriously, I have no recollection.
Does David Archuleta have cancer? Because that's the only way I can explain what happens next, which is: he gives a bland, precocious, Star Search style performance of "Imagine" and is flat on some of the notes but still cute in that ambitious younger brother kind of way, and the judges fall all over themselves with praise like he's a ten-year-old with six months left to live. Paula is brought to tears after exclaiming that she wants to "dangle [him] from [her] rearview mirror," and Randy Jackson literally explodes. Then the U.N. is brought onstage; they have sewn a David Archuleta quilt. There is much Coca-Cola.
Finally, Colton Berry takes the stage and gives a marvelous rendition of Donna Summer's "Last Dance" while accompanying himself on the tambourine and wearing a billowy pink satin blouse. His bangs are sideswept, of course. He's great, and I absolutely squeal when the gospel choir comes in at the end. What a great performance. I really think he's going to win.
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