This week’s American Idol unleashed the most dreaded aspect of the Hollywood rounds for viewers and participants alike, as this year’s edition of the group tryouts proved even more manipulatively melodramatic than usual. While the purpose of forcing these physically and emotionally exhausted contestants into such dire straits is disguised as an attempt to evaluate their ability to harmonize with others and arrange a complete musical routine, the underlying sociological experiment of it all goes predictably awry, and the cameras are conveniently there to focus on the backstage drama rather than the music. After an already grueling two days of individual tryouts, the contestants are thrown into a race against time where they have to finagle a working relationship with virtual strangers in order to organize a two minute, dog-and-pony show for the judges, who are actually evaluating them on individual merit anyway.
Oh, and they have to stay up all night, rehearse in whatever empty bathroom they can find and perform their routine the very next morning. Oh, AND each group must be a mix of contestants from both Day 1 and Day 2 of the first round of Hollywood tryouts, throwing a monkey wrench into the plans of Day 1 Idols who had already chosen their partners. Considering the first forty minutes or so of Wednesday’s episode focused entirely on everyone’s struggle to find a group and the ensuing backstabbing and meltdowns that resulted from the carefully calculated frenzy, this season’s group round felt even less like a singing competition, than usual, and more like a frightening hybrid of Jersey Shore, Glee and Lord of the Flies. Ah, yes. In case we’ve forgotten, Seacrest reminds us, yet again, “THIS! Is American Idol!”
After Seacrest, curiously using a microphone in an empty auditorium, briefs us on the logistics of Group Day rules, we’re all “thrust back into the fire” to first observe the Schadenfreude-fest that is Tiffany Rios being rejected by every contestant she approaches. Heh! Her onstage proclamation last week, that she’s “tired of watching everyone try to do what I know I can,” didn’t exactly win her any friends, and absolutely no one wants to work with her. Even Southern gentleman Scotty McCreery and his pleasant-but-gimmicky deep voice expresses dubious concern.
He has Tiffany sing for him before he makes a hasty exit. No matter, says Tiffany, because she wants to “scope first” anyway before imposing her charms on another hapless contestant. She manages to snag the previously unseen Jessica Yantz from her already established group, and the two form the only allowed duet in the entire competition, calling themselves Rebel Star. Yikes. Jessica is overly polite and pretty, and this combination proves the perfect storm of passivity and attractiveness Tiffany was hoping to prey upon. “I love hot people!” she proclaims, as she drags a doomed but compliant Jessica off to rehearse their routine.
Even after wisely escaping Tiffany’s clutches, Scotty’s particular brand of vocal styling is making it hard for him to find a group, too. After being vehemently denied by this week’s uberdouche Jordan Dorsey, Scotty eventually finds a home with karaoke host Clint Jun Gamboa of the painfully overzealous hipster glasses, along with Frances Coontz of the Velma-from-Scooby-Doo glasses, the wholly unmemorable Monique De Los Santos and freckled, cherubic wunderkind Jacee Badeaux.
While Jordan ends up ditching his group in the eleventh hour in search of greener pastures, poor Jacee is ousted by the grossly sanctimonious Clint and wanders the halls aimlessly before being snatched up by the good graces of woodland creature Brett Lowenstern and his band of misfits. Brett is a contestant whom I adore more and more each week – his oddity is curiously charming and sprightly, as though he were a character from A Midsummer Night’s Dream. He and Jacee scamper off to chirp together in melodically-sound iambic pentameter.
Ashley Sullivan’s mental instability (that looks more and more like drug addiction to me) is clearly putting dollar signs in the producers’ eyes, as there is simply no other reason to keep this girl on the show other than the trainwreck of entertainment value she exudes. After one particularly gruesome panic attack convinces her to leave the competition, her boyfriend (how does he put up with this?) calms her down enough to allow her to re-enter her group’s rehearsal with a somewhat believable sense of composure. This girl’s behavior is so comically erratic and her appearance so cartoonishly frazzled, I predict she’ll be parodied on SNL in a matter of weeks.
Poor Rob Bolin seems to have given up all hope of Idol success, since being thrust into a group with his ex-girlfriend Chelsee and her new BFF — thewalking, talking blow-up doll Jacqueline Dunford. Rob’s proven his vocal prowess in earlier auditions but admits his disdain for such pop-music requirements like choreography and dancing are causing his confidence to falter. The trio has given themselves the unbearably lame moniker Three’s Company, and judging by their underwhelming rehearsal footage, the name doesn’t bode well for their future together onstage.
The judges finally arrive and greet the contestants with rather hollow words of advice. After Tyler credits music as only one of the many things he’s addicted to, J. Lo reminds everyone that the group structure of today’s audition is really bullshit because they’re all being assessed independently of one another. Great. Randy simply warns, “DON’T EVER FORGET THE WORDS,” which isn’t particularly intimidating coming from someone with a 12-word vocabulary.
A trio of comely cuties hit the stage first to sing Bruno Mars’ “Grenade” and sound rather mediocre to me, but according to Tyler, Pia Toscano, BrielleVon Hugel and Alessandra Guerico “slammed it,” whatever that means. Randy thought they had “nice harmonies,” and J. Lo remarked, “That is how you do it!” All three girls are apparently sent through based on the merit of simply not stinking up the joint, and I begin to fear for the rest of the day’s auditions.
The group Jordan Dorsey ditched and the one he joined last minute enjoyed the prize of having all members sent through to the next round, and I’m getting the sinking feeling that the group performances will prove mightily unproductive in terms of weeding out the suckies.
Luckily, Tiffany Rios and her minion Jessica Yantz arrive just in time to humiliate themselves good and proper to help balance the morning’s festivities. Tiffany attempts to beg for another chance in a tone that would sound surprisingly articulate if it weren’t for the bucket of glitter she’d dumped on her head. Jessica wisely shuts her up, and Rebel Star slinks off the stage as the day’s first casualty.
Some idiot named Kevin Campos oversleeps and nearly misses his group’s audition – the cameras conveniently arrive at his hotel room and he answers the door in nothing but pajama bottoms with the “oh, hey, what’s up?” slur of someone expecting room service. The producers say something to the effect of, “PUT YOUR GODDAMN CLOTHES ON AND GET DOWNSTAIRS,” while Tyler entertains the crowd with a drum solo to kill time. Have a nice life, Kevin.
Teacher’s pet Lauren Alaina has convinced her group to ask Tyler onstage to serenade him with their admittedly cute rendition of “Some Kind ofWonderful.” It’s not nearly as unbearably precocious as I’d expected, and all the girls sound quite good in spite of Lauren’s clearly superior stage presence. Tyler can’t help but join in – um, vocally, that is – and the entire routine is pretty adorable. The judges are surprisingly harsh in their assessment, however, and only send Lauren through to the next round.
A few early favorites are surprisingly cut but only given the respect of a brief “In Memoriam” type of post-mortem rundown, courtesy of Seacrest. Paris Tassin, mother of the special-needs daughter, and Ozarks bumpkin Janelle Arthur just didn’t bring their A-game to Group Day and are sent home earlier than expected. Sadly, we didn’t even get to hear the retro quirks of Emily Ann Reed again, nor the initially promising Adrienne Beasley, but I’m sure Seacrest is plenty happy his stalker, Courtney Penry, wasn’t given any more camera time.
Ashley Sullivan manages to keep her blood pressure low enough to join her group, The Hits, onstage for a really slick rendition of Blu Cantrell’s “Hit ‘Em Up Style.” Ashthon Jones is the clear star of the show, but all the girls work well together and add the cute touch of tossing surprise handfuls of prop cash in the air to cap off their routine. The judges say they had the “best harmonies” of the day so far, and all four ladies, including disaster-in-the-making Ashley, are given a green light.
James Durbin of the inhuman vocal range and ironic handkerchief has been pouting about a quintet of stage moms who seem to be coaching their teenage contestants during rehearsal. Durbin’s group, The Deep Vs, are performing Queen’s “Somebody to Love,” as are the aforementioned youngsters. Durbin is indignant about the age limit having been lowered to 15 and grumbles about the kids’ apparent advantage of having their moms there for support and advice. Regardless of the possible validity of his concern, it somehow seems to serve Durbin right when his group’s version of “Somebody to Love” leaves a steaming pile on stage, while The Minors absolutely kill it and receive the day’s first standing ovation from the judges. Durbin and Caleb Johnson are the only ones of their group to go through, while all five talented kiddies are given the go-ahead. J. Lo proclaims The Minors’ victory as “the performance of their lives,” while Tyler says it was “as good as it gets,” adding, “Freddie [Mercury] is up there looking down” with pride. I just hope those kids know who Freddie Mercury is.
After one sad sack pulls a Palin and gets caught looking at the lyrics he’d written on his hand (“Definitely gone,” chuckles Randy), two groups perform a cappella versions of The Temptations’ “Get Ready,” an Idol staple. The Night Owls have the advantage of Casey Abrams and Julie Zorrilla (who wore the same glittery heels J. Lo admired in her first audition – smart), but even they can’t hold a candle to the theatrical powerhouse that quartet Matthew Nuss, Naima Adedapo, Jacob Lusk and Da’Quela Payne showcase. All four of the latter group are sent through, while Julie and Casey of the Night Owls are the only ones of their set to see the light of day.
I was pleased to see singing waitress Devyn Rush had made it this far in Hollywood, but unfortunately, her group’s anemic version of Cee Lo’s “Forget You” relied solely on the bombastic charms of Carson Higgins and throaty drawl of Caleb Hawley to render itself listenable. Chris Medina continues to convince me he’s nothing but a sob story, and Devyn’s voice simply doesn’t exude the same raspy control it did in her first audition. However, the fact all three guys makes it through and Devyn is proclaimed the sole reject of the group catches everyone off guard, most of all her. If Chris Medina had been offed alongside her, Devyn’s offstage declaration of foul play would be overdramatic. However, considering this year’s Danny Gokey remains in the competition, she may have a valid point.
Brett and Jacee’s group is next, and their version of Duffy’s “Mercy” is perfectly competent until the youngest and latest addition is struck with stage fright. Fortunately, Jacee swiftly improvises a plea for, well, mercy in place of the forgotten lyrics, but his voice is thin and doesn’t command the attention an Idol’s should. Jacee is all but forced to admit his original group ditched him in the middle of the night and he only had a few hours to learn a song he’d never heard before. Then, he wisely turned on the waterworks to further help his case. Despite being clearly out of his league in this endeavor, Jacee and the rest of the Sugar Mamas are sent through to the next round anyway, just in time for Clint and Scotty to bear the brunt of their callousness.
When confronted about kicking Jacee out of their group, Clint tries to be diplomatic and comes up with a lame diatribe about needing to maintain the integrity of their sound. Whatever. Scotty is more genuine and tears up, admitting off camera that he’s “never felt this way before.” What way? Guilty? Welcome to life, Scotty. Regardless of their group’s suspect behavior, Clint, Scotty, Frances and Monique perform exceptionally well, and all four of them survive the judging panel, after Tyler gives Clint a deserved scare. “All three of you,” he pauses, “…plus Clint, are through to the next round.” Heh!
The group performances end on a disappointing note, as Three’s Company are shown struggling to rehearse with a doomed and despondent Rob all but refusing to participate. They’ve chosen the unfortunately wordy “Forget You,” and Rob completely blows it. He can’t recall a single syllable of the lyrics and improvises a whoops-I-don’t-know-what-I’m-doing ditty in the vein of Jacee’s earlier mea culpa, but the judges aren’t amused. He gets the axe, while Chelsee and a remarkably undeserving Jacqueline (seriously, she’s awful) head on to the next phase. It’s a shame that a guy with the kind of natural talent Rob has would choke to such an irredeemable degree, but given his attitude prior to the performance, I have to say he had it coming.
Thursday’s round of auditions begin with 100 remaining contestants ready to duke it out for a spot in next week’s surprise twist: an extra round of tryouts in Las Vegas, where the Idols will perform Beatles songs on the Cirque Du Soleil LOVE stage.
The eliminations to determine the Vegas group will follow the same Rooms of Doom structure as prior seasons, but at least at this point in the competition, the contestants are finally permitted to use instruments and a backup band. After Wednesday’s exhausting group performances, it’s a relief to sit back and watch a few budding stars really shine in their element and witness the no-talents, who slipped through the cracks, finally get sent packing with no one else on stage to mask their ineptitude.
Haley Reinhart kicks things off with a no-holds-barred rendition of “God Bless The Child” that initially seems successful, but on second viewing is really a caterwauling, shouty mess of uncontrolled sound. She clearly fooled the judges, though, as they heap praise on her like white on rice.
Ashthon Jones continues to prove she’s one to watch as she nails “And I’m Telling You I’m Not Going,” while working a slinky red minidress that gives Julie Zorrilla and her lucky heels a run for their money. Thia Megia is wearing a sweater that belongs on a preschool teacher, but her take on “What a Wonderful World” is the best I’ve heard her sound on the show thus far. She’s in like Flynn, I suspect. Frances Coontz can’t find her key – apparently it’s in the same place as Caleb Johnson’s and Adrian Michael’s. Ouch. Bye.
I would love to hate Clint Jun Gamboa and his intentionally dorky glasses, but the guy can actually sing in spite of needing to tone down the melisma. Dude has a serious case of Christina Aguilera syndrome, causing him to turn one syllable into a fifteen-note run. “Georgia On My Mind” doesn’t need extra notes! It’s a classic song because of the way it was written. Sing it as such, please. Other “Georgia” crooners include Kendra Chantelle (who?) and barefoot Sophia Shorai (again, who?), who are both good enough to make me think they’ve been hidden thus far for a reason.
Chris Medina thinks he’s come up with a great idea, to sing an 80s pop hit acoustically, and is genuinely bummed when he realizes he isn’t the only one to have thought of this shrewd tactic before. Somewhere, Andrew Garcia is smiling. Or crying. Goofy Carson Higgins has also chosen Bobby Brown’s “My Prerogative,” but is performing it with a much more personality-forward approach than Chris. Carson seems like a blast to hang out with and is fun to watch as a performer but, admittedly, isn’t the strongest singer. In spite of his vocal shortcomings, however, Carson’s endlessly entertaining audition is shown nearly in its entirety, while Chris’ unplugged version catches barely ten seconds of airtime. I imagine Chris may be constructing a Carson Higgins voodoo doll as we speak.
Casey Abrams blows the doors off their hinges with his take on “Georgia.” He pulls an Idol first by bringing an upright bass onstage and completely floors the judges and viewers with a mesmerizing performance. The Taylor Hicks comparisons will likely begin to wane after this triumph, as Casey proved he’s far beyond the gimmick-ridden boundaries of the season five champ.
Chelsee Oaks chokes big time after Jacqueline Dunford leaves the competition with a mysterious “serious illness.” Although I’m certain they met less than a week ago, Chelsee tearfully refers to Jacqueline as her “best friend in the world” and is so devastated by her exit she isn’t prepared to deliver the killer audition she needs. Although I’m thrilled to see Jacqueline vanish from my TV screen, I’d originally had hopes for the talented Chelsee and Rob and am disappointed neither of them could hold it together for the semifinals.
Gee whiz, Lauren Alaina sings “I Don’t Want To Miss a Thing.” AGAIN. Yawn.
Jacob Lusk ties Casey Abrams for performance of the night as he brings down the house with his rendition of “God Bless The Child.” The judges are nearly rendered speechless, save for the unintelligible noises of approval Randy keeps shouting. Jacob is so shaken afterwards he literally runs out the doors and begins to sob – I think he literally sang his heart out. Seacrest, of course, ruins the moment when Jacob says, “I’m not normally a crier.” “Could have fooled us,” Seacrest snarks. Jerk.
John Wayne Schulz has the tough task of following the nearly religious experience Jacob Lusk wrought upon the crowd, but his subtle take on Fleetwood Mac’s “Landslide” is quietly precise and a nice counterpart to the grandiose gospel stylings that preceded him. Does he ever take his hat off?
Ashley Sullivan decides to perform a Michael Buble song that she always sings to her boyfriend – sounds relatively safe, right? Given her naturally panic-stricken demeanor and track record for melodrama, however, I can only imagine what catastrophe awaits. Of course, Ashley forgets the lyrics not once, but twice, and is encouraged to go ahead and “jump to the chorus” to speed things along. In between apologetic gasps and cardiac arrests, Ashley’s voice just doesn’t qualify her as a semifinalist in my opinion, and I have to wonder what the producers have up their sleeves. This girl literally got on her knees and begged to be sent to Hollywood in the first place, and she’s done nothing since but prove herself a whirling dervish of unmanageable anxiety and marginal vocal talent. This isn’t funny anymore, guys.
Scotty McCreery continues to prove he may be a one-trick pony, as his attempt to learn a song besides his “Baby lock them doors and turn the lights down low” go-to number doesn’t bode well for an expanding repertoire. His performance of “I Hope You Dance” is hilariously subtitled to help viewers understand the gibberish that comes out of his mouth when the lyrics completely escape him. He hits the chorus all right, but the verses are branded with something like, “mumbledy mumbldoo … nuts of wonder … zoo zoo talk …. gobbledygooble … in my jeans.” Afterwards, a rightfully worried Scotty ponders whether his deep voice is all he has going for him. I’d say nuts of wondter is certainly something to add to the list.
After the auditions, the 100 remaining Idols are shuffled into four separate rooms, two of which will be eliminated entirely, the other two sent to Vegas for another round of tryouts before the Top 24 are established. Personally, if I saw Casey Abrams, Jacob Lusk, Julie Zorrilla or Lauren Alaina in my room, I’d breathe easier. Scotty and Ashley Sullivan? I’d begin wondering what movie they’ll show on the flight home. This being Idol, however, Scotty’s deep voice and nuts of wonder are headed to Vegas to try and learn a Beatles song, and Ashley will hopefully manage to not give herself a stroke before she gets there. The aforementioned Casey, Julie, Lauren and Jacob also made the cut, as did Thia Megia, Robbie Rosen, Jacee Badeaux, James Durbin, Naima Adedapo, Carson Higgins and Rachel Zevita. Finally, Brett Lowenstern will crawl in someone’s pocket and head to Vegas, too. The Top 24 will be decided next week, folks! Get your voting fingers ready.