American Idol producer Nigel Lythgoe promised that this week’s episodes would involve “four hours of singing,” which is sort of like a chef promising that your wedding cake would spend time in the oven. It’s just a required step, you know? Including it means including substance and craft, however sugared over; leaving it out means you’re left with a pan of junky goo. Pans of junky goo don’t go over too well at weddings, right? Nothing’s more fun or bodes more well for the future than dipping your spoon into a mass of cloying buttercream and congealed flour, one chunk after another. It’s the most enjoyable way not to nourish yourself.
Anyway. That metaphor had absolutely nothing to do with last night’s episode of Idol; not only were there four hours of more-or-less uninterrupted talent, we saw the first true breakout performance of the season. Isn’t it amazing what singing can do to a singing show? First, though, we’ve got to get over a bug. An Idol bug. A bug whose buzz sounded a bit like this.
THE HOPELESS: 45-37
45. Hollywood Week: Is actually four days. Apparently “Hollywood Week” is just an expression, like “a New York minute” or “an eternity.”
44. The Bettys: (to the tune of “Cold and Fugue Season”) They just want to sing this classy Blu for you, but Cherie keeps sneezing and sneezing, and they keep careening through keys, and I do not think they wrote flatting in the tune. Fetch her the Kleenex out of the prop box, turn on the bathroom cam and shoot us some puke shots, dish out the criticism, hand out rejection — I’m watching Idol and feeling sick.
43. Six Seven Nine: They just want to sing some even worse Blu for you, but their name sounds like a fast-fashion chain. Idol couldn’t even give each member a chyron; we are done here.
42. Ryan Seacrest: His Idol fortunes are such that his script now looks like this: “Some of them went with oh-ohs! Some, yay-yays! Some went with a combination of both!” He had other clunkers. We’ll go over them in order.
41. Adam Brock: “It’s time for American Idol to have some white chocolate up in here,” Adam proclaimed, not realizing that reality shows have thrived on that junk long before the first Krajcik Krajciked. That said, Adam’s nowhere near as good as Josh Krajcik. He’s more like a certain Danny Gokey–my entire visible Twitter timeline was Gokey-related once he started singing–and the melisma-growl he added to “Georgia On My Mind” (remember that song) has to rank down there with the Gokey Scream. Oh, and he kept his grandfather’s hankie in his pocket, the same place he kept the sob-story monologue about same. Of course he made it.
40. Brielle’s Mom: Wearing a coat straight from the closet of either Sarah Palin or Steven Tyler, Brielle’s mom stage mommed her way into several minutes of televised stage mommery. She dry-heaved Idol Bug style anytime someone who wasn’t Brielle did anything, and screamed to the heavens anytime Brielle did anything. Speaking of the heavens, she begs Jesus to let her daughter through so that she doesn’t “have to deal with her.” Avoiding parenting AND gaining camera time? Surely Jesus will understand!
39. Rain Quote 1: After a(nother) montage of lyrical flubs Ryan says, “This rainy weather may have put a damper on a few performances.” Hopefully the judges were decent and factored the weather into their decisions – It’s clearly no fault of the contestants themselves! (Also, amazing “damper” pun, writers! A little rain can’t slow your brains!)
38. Rain Quote 2: “As the rain begins to fall, the pressure is escalating.” Hey, tip: barometric pressure doesn’t work that way.
37. Samantha Novacek’s Pittsburgh Planker Sister: Remember her? Idol hopes not, because she disappeared with Samantha’s singing mojo and without word or recap, abandoning Samantha to a world of angry cops and “Stuck Like Glue.” Planking must’ve been too dated and specific a meme to feature more than once. Imagine that.
For medics, obnoxious kids and Katharine McPhee’s mom, click NEXT.