The One Where Jack Tripper Gets Amnesia. AI Re-cap 2/7/07
As part of their commitment to Fox to provide 45 programming hours of American Idol this season, Freemantle Media and 19 Entertainment have packaged tonight’s episode as “The Best and the Worst of What We Didn’t Have Time to Show You.” The reason they didn’t have time is because they were too busy wasting it on of lame skits, sob stories and some moron dressed as a banana, singing “Peanut Butter Jelly Time.” So now we all have to spend an hour in hopes we may glean something useful for the coming season. We Idol fans are hardcore. Yet this is how they reward us. A clip show.
Seacrest claims they had so much good stuff from the road this year, that they couldn’t fit it all in. I know about 34 million people who would beg to differ, Short Round. They are breaking the show down into lessons on how to try out for Idol. I wonder if I shot an episode on how to produce Idol, I could force them to watch it. But before we do that, I’m making some room for Hedwig, who had to make a trip to the vet today after deciding to play with my disposable razor. Luckily, she only suffered a minor cut on her paw pad. I’m hoping it’s not a cry for help and I’m going to have to start locking up my xanax.
While my very own Sylvia Plath settles in next to me, Idol starts with Lesson One: The Look. Christa is dressed like an extra from a Motels video. She thinks it looks fashionable. I think she should be deported. She’s wearing a hat with a veil, which will come in handy for the mourning period after she tanks her audition. She’s predictably horrible and bursts into tears, prompting Paula to change her vote, though Randy and Simon stick to their guns. Thank God, because if this bitch had gotten through to Hollywood after Nichole Glatzman from Birmingham did not, I would have thrown a brick at Paula the next time I saw her at my connection’s house. Christa sobs on the way out, fitting since she’s dressed for a funeral from the waist up.
Tami Gosnell is a pedi-cab driver from Colorado who has a butch demeanor and a lip ring. Wonder how many labia she’s snagged on that thing while having sex? She’ll be singing “Whipping Post.” She has a good voice, but there’s nothing dynamic about her and nothing original, though Simon, in his very narrow world view, says he likes her because she’s different. Does Simon get out much? I mean, I’d put this girl through to the next round for sure, but I wouldn’t be doing backflips over it. All I thought while watching her was- she’s no Bo Bice. And that’s what I fear this show has become, pale imitations of previous Idols coming in and doing weak impersonations of the ones who have been successful. Let’s face it, there’s very little if any true originality to be found these days. Everything has been done under the sun. And that’s okay if a person is derivative if they have a quality that sets them above the pack, either with look or personality or charisma, to go along with a good voice. But almost all of the people we’ve seen that have made it through thus far this season are severely lacking any of that and this gal is smack dab in the middle of the pile. My advice for Idol- raise the age limit again. Make it 35 just as an experiment one year and see if it nets anyone a little more seasoned and professional. Anyway, the lesbian gets through.
Lesson Two: Seek Inspiration. While most hopefuls cite singers ranging from Mariah, Celine, Xtina and Alicia all the way down to David Hasselhoff and Taylor Hicks, Paul Kim says his inspiration came in none other than the form of Season 2 Idol punch line and borderline mongoloid William Hung. Paul feels William gives Asian people a bad name as far as singers go, obviously forgetting such past luminaries as Yma Sumac, Kissy Suzuki, Shonen Knife and Mei and Kei from Pink Lady & Jeff. He has a decent voice with a nice tone, but he’s got so many boyband bad habits going on that for me, it ruins the audition. He’s much too breathy, he thumps his chest, he melismas and juts out his hand several times for emphasis. I mean it’s nice to see Chris Kirkpatrick has landed on his feet as a vocal coach since NSYNC broke up, but come on; Paul is so stuck in 1999 that he ought to have the Prince symbol tattooed on his ass. I’d pass on him, but he goes through.
Jack Odanovich has chosen another former Idol for inspiration. He covers “Inside a Dream,” the song Bo Bice so memorably covered in Season 4. To quote Dolly Parton from 9 to 5, after what Jack does to the song, I think we ought to “hire a couple of wranglers to beat the shit out of him.”
Lesson Three: Never Give Up. We see a montage of repeat auditioners, including one from last season, Gina Glocksen. I remember Gina very well; I remember not understanding what anyone saw in her and was thrilled when she was cut in Hollywood. She sings a thoroughly unmemorable “Black Velvet,” and kisses Simon’s ass just enough to get put through to Hollywood, where she’ll likely tank again. But hey Gina, thanks for taking someone else’s slot who was probably more deserving.
Edward Sanchez is next and they are showing him dancing, so you all know what that means. Edward is a huge Paula Abdul fan and is basically here to see her. Great, that means I don’t have to waste time watching his terrible audition.
Three bim car hops that probably have joint custody of one brain cell between them are here to audition. Josie, Valerie and Melody (or whatever the fuck their names are, does it matter?) are roller skating waitresses at a place called Frisco’s and all are here to try their luck. Does that mean that if I wanted a tuna melt that particular day at Frisco’s, I would have had to strap on a pair of rollerblades and serve myself?
This brings us to Lesson 4: Always Audition on Your Own. The Frisco’s chicks come in to audition together. First up is Heather, who is just okay. Then comes Ashley, who sings Sarah Maclachlan’s “Angel,” and does a way better job with it than I would have given her credit for; it’s a tough song to sing well. Lastly, there’s Ebony, who has the best voice of the three. Heather is shot down and Ashley almost blows her chance after Paula tells her not to wear so much make-up and she thanks the singer for her “motherly” advice. However, she and Ebony make it through to Hollywood, then guest judge Olivia Newton-John straps on a pair of roller skates and shows those kids how it’s really done. (I wish!)
We’re back with a mini-montage of bad singers who chose to perform their own compositions. I rather liked Brandon Reid’s beat box number, though it wasn’t right for this competition. He’s actually been more entertaining than half the folks who made it through. Wes Samland is going to be our next time waster as the gag writers from Dick Clark’s “Foul-Ups, Bleeps & Blunders,” construct another tightly hilarious comedy bit. Wes could be cute, except he has terrible taste in clothes and some fugly ass chicklets for teeth.
Lesson 5: Shake Your Moneymaker. The less said about this, the better.
Alexander Nazario is a big queen from Nashville by way of Puerto Rico. He’s a dancer AND a singer with an accent as thick as Nana Mouskouri’s pubic bush. While we wait for Simon to tell him he should put on a dress and stilettos, Alex entertains us with his rendition of Air Supply’s “Making Love out of Nothing at All.” He tanks, though Simon wisely restrains himself.
Lesson 6: Clarity. Another bit, called “Name That Song.” However lame, there is more than a grain of truth to this. A lot of these people are mushmouthed. While we’re on the topic, I was so happy to see that so many people remembered The Ellen James Society. Believe me, it was not from any position of superiority that I assumed no one would remember, just that I’ve found pop culture history these days extends no further than the early-middle career of Madonna.
Okay, so far, I’ve had no trouble figuring out the first two people’s songs. Here’s a tip, joke writers. If you’re going to play a gag like this, make sure you have enough material to fill the bit.
Lakeesha Jones is a sweetheart and is dressed in my favorite color (no, NOT the zebra print, thank you very much.) She is singing “Think,” by Aretha Franklin. For those of you with short memories, that was the song that Katharine McPhee squeezed every drop of soul, funk and all-around personality from before spreading it thick with mayonnaise, slapping it between two slices of Wonder Bread and then performing it on last year’s show. Lakeesha mops the floor with the song and uses the new bad perm of McPhee to do it with. She’s amazing and sails through, deservedly.
And that does it for the audition phase. Join me next week when I dismantle the dual episodes of Hollywood Week and we finally get this season cooking.
Seagulls out.
Seacrest claims they had so much good stuff from the road this year, that they couldn’t fit it all in. I know about 34 million people who would beg to differ, Short Round. They are breaking the show down into lessons on how to try out for Idol. I wonder if I shot an episode on how to produce Idol, I could force them to watch it. But before we do that, I’m making some room for Hedwig, who had to make a trip to the vet today after deciding to play with my disposable razor. Luckily, she only suffered a minor cut on her paw pad. I’m hoping it’s not a cry for help and I’m going to have to start locking up my xanax.
While my very own Sylvia Plath settles in next to me, Idol starts with Lesson One: The Look. Christa is dressed like an extra from a Motels video. She thinks it looks fashionable. I think she should be deported. She’s wearing a hat with a veil, which will come in handy for the mourning period after she tanks her audition. She’s predictably horrible and bursts into tears, prompting Paula to change her vote, though Randy and Simon stick to their guns. Thank God, because if this bitch had gotten through to Hollywood after Nichole Glatzman from Birmingham did not, I would have thrown a brick at Paula the next time I saw her at my connection’s house. Christa sobs on the way out, fitting since she’s dressed for a funeral from the waist up.
Tami Gosnell is a pedi-cab driver from Colorado who has a butch demeanor and a lip ring. Wonder how many labia she’s snagged on that thing while having sex? She’ll be singing “Whipping Post.” She has a good voice, but there’s nothing dynamic about her and nothing original, though Simon, in his very narrow world view, says he likes her because she’s different. Does Simon get out much? I mean, I’d put this girl through to the next round for sure, but I wouldn’t be doing backflips over it. All I thought while watching her was- she’s no Bo Bice. And that’s what I fear this show has become, pale imitations of previous Idols coming in and doing weak impersonations of the ones who have been successful. Let’s face it, there’s very little if any true originality to be found these days. Everything has been done under the sun. And that’s okay if a person is derivative if they have a quality that sets them above the pack, either with look or personality or charisma, to go along with a good voice. But almost all of the people we’ve seen that have made it through thus far this season are severely lacking any of that and this gal is smack dab in the middle of the pile. My advice for Idol- raise the age limit again. Make it 35 just as an experiment one year and see if it nets anyone a little more seasoned and professional. Anyway, the lesbian gets through.
Lesson Two: Seek Inspiration. While most hopefuls cite singers ranging from Mariah, Celine, Xtina and Alicia all the way down to David Hasselhoff and Taylor Hicks, Paul Kim says his inspiration came in none other than the form of Season 2 Idol punch line and borderline mongoloid William Hung. Paul feels William gives Asian people a bad name as far as singers go, obviously forgetting such past luminaries as Yma Sumac, Kissy Suzuki, Shonen Knife and Mei and Kei from Pink Lady & Jeff. He has a decent voice with a nice tone, but he’s got so many boyband bad habits going on that for me, it ruins the audition. He’s much too breathy, he thumps his chest, he melismas and juts out his hand several times for emphasis. I mean it’s nice to see Chris Kirkpatrick has landed on his feet as a vocal coach since NSYNC broke up, but come on; Paul is so stuck in 1999 that he ought to have the Prince symbol tattooed on his ass. I’d pass on him, but he goes through.
Jack Odanovich has chosen another former Idol for inspiration. He covers “Inside a Dream,” the song Bo Bice so memorably covered in Season 4. To quote Dolly Parton from 9 to 5, after what Jack does to the song, I think we ought to “hire a couple of wranglers to beat the shit out of him.”
Lesson Three: Never Give Up. We see a montage of repeat auditioners, including one from last season, Gina Glocksen. I remember Gina very well; I remember not understanding what anyone saw in her and was thrilled when she was cut in Hollywood. She sings a thoroughly unmemorable “Black Velvet,” and kisses Simon’s ass just enough to get put through to Hollywood, where she’ll likely tank again. But hey Gina, thanks for taking someone else’s slot who was probably more deserving.
Edward Sanchez is next and they are showing him dancing, so you all know what that means. Edward is a huge Paula Abdul fan and is basically here to see her. Great, that means I don’t have to waste time watching his terrible audition.
Three bim car hops that probably have joint custody of one brain cell between them are here to audition. Josie, Valerie and Melody (or whatever the fuck their names are, does it matter?) are roller skating waitresses at a place called Frisco’s and all are here to try their luck. Does that mean that if I wanted a tuna melt that particular day at Frisco’s, I would have had to strap on a pair of rollerblades and serve myself?
This brings us to Lesson 4: Always Audition on Your Own. The Frisco’s chicks come in to audition together. First up is Heather, who is just okay. Then comes Ashley, who sings Sarah Maclachlan’s “Angel,” and does a way better job with it than I would have given her credit for; it’s a tough song to sing well. Lastly, there’s Ebony, who has the best voice of the three. Heather is shot down and Ashley almost blows her chance after Paula tells her not to wear so much make-up and she thanks the singer for her “motherly” advice. However, she and Ebony make it through to Hollywood, then guest judge Olivia Newton-John straps on a pair of roller skates and shows those kids how it’s really done. (I wish!)
We’re back with a mini-montage of bad singers who chose to perform their own compositions. I rather liked Brandon Reid’s beat box number, though it wasn’t right for this competition. He’s actually been more entertaining than half the folks who made it through. Wes Samland is going to be our next time waster as the gag writers from Dick Clark’s “Foul-Ups, Bleeps & Blunders,” construct another tightly hilarious comedy bit. Wes could be cute, except he has terrible taste in clothes and some fugly ass chicklets for teeth.
Lesson 5: Shake Your Moneymaker. The less said about this, the better.
Alexander Nazario is a big queen from Nashville by way of Puerto Rico. He’s a dancer AND a singer with an accent as thick as Nana Mouskouri’s pubic bush. While we wait for Simon to tell him he should put on a dress and stilettos, Alex entertains us with his rendition of Air Supply’s “Making Love out of Nothing at All.” He tanks, though Simon wisely restrains himself.
Lesson 6: Clarity. Another bit, called “Name That Song.” However lame, there is more than a grain of truth to this. A lot of these people are mushmouthed. While we’re on the topic, I was so happy to see that so many people remembered The Ellen James Society. Believe me, it was not from any position of superiority that I assumed no one would remember, just that I’ve found pop culture history these days extends no further than the early-middle career of Madonna.
Okay, so far, I’ve had no trouble figuring out the first two people’s songs. Here’s a tip, joke writers. If you’re going to play a gag like this, make sure you have enough material to fill the bit.
Lakeesha Jones is a sweetheart and is dressed in my favorite color (no, NOT the zebra print, thank you very much.) She is singing “Think,” by Aretha Franklin. For those of you with short memories, that was the song that Katharine McPhee squeezed every drop of soul, funk and all-around personality from before spreading it thick with mayonnaise, slapping it between two slices of Wonder Bread and then performing it on last year’s show. Lakeesha mops the floor with the song and uses the new bad perm of McPhee to do it with. She’s amazing and sails through, deservedly.
And that does it for the audition phase. Join me next week when I dismantle the dual episodes of Hollywood Week and we finally get this season cooking.
Seagulls out.
posted by kieran at 1:02 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home