Here we are, Idolers, that pivotal point in every American Idol season when we can all finally put the shameless posturing of delusional no-talents in the preliminary auditions behind us, forgete all about the manipulative drama of Hollywood Week and its torturous, calculated conflict, and direct all our focus on the set of finalists we’ll begin to whittle down week by week until the tenth American Idol is subsequently crowned to a predictable fanfare of…confetti.
After last season’s forgettable finalists and even more forgettable winner, hopes weren’t high for Idol and its wilting reputation, but Nigel Lythgoe and friends brought their A-game and have reintroduced the show in its familiar format, but with a recharged fortitude and judging panel that have miraculously created arguably the most promising Top 13 in the show’s history. I’m not kidding, folks, these kids are good. So good, in fact, that a few truly talented singers, who could have stood a chance to duke it out for the title in previous seasons, were instead left on the cutting room floor this week and whisked back into obscurity faster than you can say Lee DeWyze. Who’s that, you ask? Exactly.
For this year’s Top 24, Seacrest and the gang have already migrated to the “world famous American Idol stage” that the show will call home for the rest of the season. In a revelatory and thrilling development, this week’s semifinal rounds tossed half the hopefuls aside in one fell swoop to forego the agonizing week-by-week eliminations we sat through in other years to establish the finalists. YES. Perhaps not so great news for the singers, but as a reviewer saddled with the task of rehashing every performance every week, going straight from 24 to 13 is a groundbreaking, fist pump-worthy piece of information. Let’s get to it.
Tuesday night, Seacrest and the judges strut onstage to their first booming, voice-of-God introduction of the season. Randy eschews his typical cardigan for a black motorcycle jacket for the occasion, while J. Lo is sporting blinding bling even Seacrest pauses to admire. Tyler, meanwhile, has attached feathers to his hair and is given his own personal censor sign in anticipation of the FCC’s watchful eye.
Tonight, it’s the Top 12 guys’ turn to woo prospective voters, and we’re told they were given the freedom to sing “any song they want.” Really? This makes Clint Jun Gamboa’s choice to belt out Stevie Wonder’s “Superstition,” a painfully overwrought tune that’s been sung on every season of Idol at least once, somewhat suspicious. I suspect “any song they want” is likely attached to an unspoken offstage caveat of “…on this legally licensed list.”
Clint and his now-trademark goggles approach the performance with undeniable gusto, but methinks the producers used the bad word of mouth surrounding his Hollywood Week controversy with young Jacee as justification for burying him at the beginning of the show. Despite positive feedback from the judges, there are still 11 guys to go, and Clint will have needed a much craftier song choice to keep his performance at the forefront of voters’ minds.
Jovany Barretto and his shipyard-worker physique surely makes plenty of ladies in the audience swoon, but his whole sensitive-meathead shtick does nothing for me, and his rendition of Edwin McCain’s late-nineties hit “I’ll Be” only succeeds in reminding me of high school and the episode of Dawson’s Creek that created this one-hit-wonder in the first place. Snooze. This is karaoke if I’ve ever heard it, and I can’t believe the judges chose this guy over the likes of the more marketable Colton Dixon and his actual musicianship. “Holy shipyards!” Tyler says. Indeed. The judges give such ho-hum compliments as “you did it” (not exactly a ringing endorsement), Tyler continues to call Jovany “Giovanni,” and Randy invents a new phrase in, “I hate to break up the apple cart.” What?
Smug Jordan Dorsey gets deservingly knocked down a peg or ten when his jaw-droppingly awkward and downright embarrassing version of Usher’s “OMG” goes down in flames from the first measure on. Aside from the song’s lack of overall structure and abundance of tasteless lyrics (“Honey’s got a booty like wow, wow, wow,” for example – how poetic), Jordan’s attempt to woo the audience with his accompanying pelvic thrusts cause me to watch the rest of this trainwreck through my fingers. When the confused judges rightfully eviscerate the performance, Jordan does his best to thwart all responsibility for CHOOSING THE SONG and acts as though he’d been forced to unleash this monstrosity on national television with a gun to his head. After his diva attitude during Hollywood Week branded him a villain weeks ago, this will likely be the final nail in his coffin. Good riddance.
Tim Halperin has the unassuming, slightly goofy Everyman appeal that’s worked for the last several Idol winners, and several snippets of him during Hollywood Week gave hope that he could be a more worthy Idol contestant than at least one of them (sorry, Lee). His piano and songwriting skills accompanied his pleasant croon during his duet with Julie Zorrilla in Vegas, and Tim looked to be on the road to the finals. Unfortunately, he misses the boat tonight and sings Rob Thomas’ “Streetcorner Symphony” with an earnest spring in his step, but zero memorability or charisma. The judges, along with me, seem to have already forgotten about it by the time they give their critiques; Tyler expresses genuine disappointment and tells Tim the song “didn’t do you justice, man.” Have a nice life, Tim.
Brett Loewenstern is next, and I’m already worried for my favorite moppet when it’s revealed he’ll be singing The Doors’ “Light My Fire.” Uh oh. As I feared, the song is too overtly sexual for the wonderfully weird little Brett to convincingly pull off; he ends up bopping around the stage and wildly shaking his hair the majority of the time to make up for his lack of believable connection to the song. His voice is on key, but just not a good match for a song synonymous with Jim Morrison’s iconic, throaty growl. Interestingly, the judges are sort of into it – J. Lo half-jokes that he needs a wind machine – and dig Brett’s uncompromising ability to be true to himself, despite choosing a song completely out of his depth.
After a rather bewilderingly slow start to the night, James Durbin finally delivers a performance that wakes everyone up and makes me feel like the show just started. His performance of Judas Priest’s “You’ve Got Another Thing Comin’” sounds recordable and, more importantly, sellable and even I have to admit he filled up the stage far more convincingly than anyone else this evening so far – the poor five guys before him simply can’t compare. I can’t help but think to myself how much Glambert would have owned this song, but Durbin has certainly begun to carve his own rightful spot in the same league. The judges, particularly Tyler, are beside themselves.
Poor Robbie Rosen’s eyebrows and hairline seem to grow closer and closer together by the day – in a year or two, I’m afraid this kid will be nothing but a giant walking pair of Groucho Marx glasses. After Durbin’s rollicking success, Rosen’s snooze-inducing croon of Sarah McLachlan’s “Angel” does little more than conjure images of the homeless, quivering puppies and kittens from McLachlan’s ASPCA commercials. Sniff. Tyler and J. Lo, neither of whom have been able to deliver a piece of actual criticism yet tonight, completely fall for it and seem to actually believe the arrangement and vocals were both “beautiful” (Tyler’s go-to compliment) and “told a story.” A story of puppies, kittens and eyebrows, that is.
Scotty McCreery’s idea of “changing things up” is singing a different country song, apparently, but at least the kid knows what he’s good at. John Michael Montgomery’s “Letters From Home” fits him like a glove, and I can hear the entire Bible Belt swoon with pride by the time his performance ends. Although Scotty’s brand of southern-fried singing is not my personal cup of tea, I can objectively understand why he’d be considered a near-prodigy in the genre. His ham-fisted stage presence needs work – particularly the cartoonish way he sings out of the side of his mouth – but Scotty already sounds like he ‘s on the radio and I can’t help but agree with J. Lo when she proclaims he was “born to sing country music.” He’s already come a long way from his Nuts of Wonder bottom-scraping in Hollywood.
Stefano Langone is undeniably adorable and has the most pinch-worthy, dimpled cheeks in the competition, but he’s tragically off key throughout his entire performance of Bruno Mars’ “Just the Way You Are,” a song I’ve only heard about 5,000 times in the last few months. Even J. Lo is caught cringing during a particularly offensive falsetto note, and I begin predicting imminent doom for Stefano. To my amazement, all three judges express enthusiastic support, going as far to say they were “grooving” like they were “at a concert or something.” I feel as though I’ve officially entered the Twilight Zone, or perhaps suffered a mild stroke. What concert in hell is this? Perhaps Stefano needn’t worry – if he managed to fool the judges with his cuteness, convincing the far more gullible voters should be a cakewalk.
I had problems concentrating on Paul McDonald’s performance of Rod Stewart’s “Maggie May” due to the blinding distraction of his several dozen teeth, but from what I could ascertain, Paul continued to represent himself as a breath of fresh air. His quirky, soft tone may have problems filling the cavernous acoustics of an amphitheater, but I suppose that’s what a microphone is for. I loved his hilarious “What’s up, TV land?” greeting, and his polished and professional performance demeanor proves Paul’s no novice to the stage. His warm, offbeat personality and no-frills presentation make him immensely likable, and the judges agree. Tyler likes his “McDonald two-step” dance moves, while both he and J. Lo comment on the “character” he delivers with both his voice and attitude. Paul will McDonald two-step his way into the finals with similar ease, I suspect.
A montage of Jacob Lusk at varying degrees of his now-trademark meltdown stage is a perfect way to introduce him. Of course a person who can hardly seem to contain their excitement, even at the slightest provocation, has a thunderous singing voice they can hardly contain either. Jacob may have a hard time living up to the high standard he set for himself with his Hollywood Week triumph of “God Bless The Child,” but tonight’s performance of “A House Is Not A Home” is duly impressive nonetheless. J. Lo tells Jacob that Luther Vandross was her favorite singer of all time, but she loves opportunities like Idol because she now has Jacob to take Vandross’ place. Aw.
I may be the only one who wasn’t completely bowled over by Casey Abrams and his rendition of “I Put A Spell On You,” but I’m still rooting for him all the same. His performance is undeniably Casey and crowd-pleasing, but I sensed more theatrics than actual singing, and his intimidating stare and growl throughout the song put me slightly ill-at-ease. I personally prefer Casey slightly less aggressive, but appreciate his command of the stage and clear understanding of the music he’s presenting. His final note officially wins me over, as it both cut through the air clear as a bell and caused his furrowed brow to give way to a softer expression I find much more comforting. I agree with J. Lo when she says Casey just might “redefine what this whole thing is,” but Tyler may be overzealous when he proclaims Casey’s performance “is as good as it gets.” I don’t know about that – it wasn’t even as good as Casey gets. Fortunately, I’m virtually certain we’ll get to see just how good he can really get when he advances to the finals.
Wednesday’s show brought the Top 12 girls to the Idol stage, and they admittedly have a lot to live up to after a few of the guys set the bar to seemingly unreachable heights. Tyler advises the ladies to “shoot for the moon” and “sing like there’s no tomorrow.” In case he leaves any cliché untended, I’ll go ahead and tell them to keep reaching for the stars while they’re at it.
Ta-Tynisa Wilson decided to add a hyphen to her name, apparently in a desperate attempt to distract from her completely undeserved place in this competition. Her cleavage and sky-high heels also serve as a diversion tactic, but unfortunately no one within earshot can escape the disaster that is her performance of Rihanna’s “Only Girl (In the World)”. It’s so awful I begin to wonder what the ultimate goal is behind keeping her on the show this long. Far more competent female contestants were shooed away in her favor (Hollie Cavanagh, Lakeisha Lewis and Jackie Wilson for starters), and we viewers have gotten zero evidence supporting the judges’ decision. I fully expect them to eat their words but am simply dumbfounded when both Tyler and J. Lo CONGRATULATE Ta-Tynisa on a job well done. “A beautiful way to open the show,” J. Lo says. You have GOT to be kidding me. Thankfully, Randy assures us we’re all still on planet Earth as he rightfully admits he “wasn’t into it,” but doesn’t offer nearly the rightful amount of criticism deserved.
Naima Adedapo’s strangely perky version of “Summertime” is unfortunate in several ways, but the most glaring is the fact she chose to sing a song already preserved in the Idol hall of fame by a former contestant. Besides the fact she’s practically asking for a negative comparison to Fantasia, which Randy gives her, I’m disappointed in Naima for offering such an inappropriately smiley version of one of the most classically bluesy, iconically dark jazz songs of all time. That being said, I’m thrilled when she nails her final note and it’s such a stupendous moment the off-kilter beginning is all but forgotten. She’s still one of my favorites, and indeed an “exotic flower,” as J. Lo suggests. Tyler astutely points out Naima’s potential to establish a “new old-timey thing that can be new” and compares her to Ella Fitzgerald.
Kendra Chantelle takes a risk attempting the Christina Aguilera song “Impossible,” but holds her own and manages to avoid the classic Christina tactic of adding notes within notes within notes…within notes. She sings the song comparatively simply and showcases her impressive range, albeit with a slightly shrill tone in the upper register. It’s a successful performance, but is clearly upstaged by her ingeniously fitted leather pants – I’m not sure Tyler heard a single word that came out of her mouth.
Delightfully odd Rachel Zevita is next, and I knew she was up to no good when I spied her swathed in a suspicious-looking, satin cape earlier in the show. Uh oh. She approaches the mic and disrobes with a flick of her wrists, revealing a Vegas-ready dress and equally cheesy arrangement of Fiona Apple’s “Criminal.” Oh, Rachel. I understand what she was trying to do, but the entire ordeal comes across as desperate and terribly affected. Randy is correct in his assessment that the song was rendered nearly unrecognizable, and Tyler sadly tells Rachel it was “a little too Broadway” for him. J. Lo can hardly do more than offer condolences, and poor Rachel is clearly blindsided by the negative response – she clearly thought she’d nailed it. Ah, showbiz.
Karen Rodriguez may be a devious little genius, as she proves to be the only Idol contestant in history to think of singing in both English and Spanish. Brilliant, querida, brilliant. Both her outdated dress (aqua, floor-length column) and corny song choice (Mariah Carey’s “Hero” – good Lord) reek of stale pageantry, and her over-rehearsed arm spans do little to wipe the sneer off my face, but I have to hand it to the girl for her unadulterated strategy. J. Lo thinks the performance is the second coming, of course, and simply gestures to her goosebumps to illustrate her approval. Barf.
Lauren Turner finally properly introduces herself with a vocally fantastic cover of Etta James’ “Seven Day Fool,” and displays a relaxed, down-to-earth personality that makes Karen seem like a wind-up doll in comparison. “I’m sarcastic, America,” Lauren announces. A girl after my own heart, it seems. Despite her impressive voice, however, Lauren lacks a bit in the presence department and doesn’t quite seem to know what to do with herself on stage. Randy makes the bold statement that Lauren is like “Amy Winehouse meets Florence + The Machine,” and Tyler, ever the one-upper, simply says she’s more like “Lauren Turner meets Lauren Turner,” and praises her unique persona. In another season I’d say Lauren Turner is a shoo-in for the finals, but this year’s Chosen Ones like Lauren Alaina and Karen may muck up her chances. Too bad – Idol could always use more sarcasm.
Ashthon Jones and her maddening silent H really wants to be the capital-D Diva of this season, and so far her efforts are working like a charm. Although she duly impressed me during Hollywood Week, her bizarre choice to sing an obscure Monica song from god knows when is both puzzling and, frankly, not too smart. This is the girl who’s never heard a Beatles song but apparently thinks this unknown ditty will be her ticket to stardom? Her performance is undeniably showy, but consists of far more strutting than singing and may cause the producers to put a sexual harassment clause in Seacrest’s contract. Ew.
Former frontrunner Julie Zorrilla shocks everyone by completely whiffing it and blowing her chance for the finals. Yes, it was that bad. She makes the cardinal sin of murdering a Kelly Clarkson song – you do not mess with the Clarkson on Idol, folks – to such a sabotaging extent I can’t believe this is the same girl J. Lo thought could win this whole damn thing. I begin to feel sorry for her, until it occurs to me she’s 20 years old, pretty and talented. Never mind. Hilarity ensues when the camera pans to the other girls reacting to Julie’s chokefest with blank-faced, polite golf claps. Heh!
Haley Reinhart is like Kendra’s annoying, less talented little sister. If I close my eyes during her performance, the mere sounds of her singing are marginally bearable, but if I add the visual accompaniment of her incessant eyelash batting, little-girl pouts, and unwieldy stage spins, the results are purely intolerable. Despite having what sounds like could be the basis for a decent voice, Haley makes the mistake of adding unnecessary growls and husks to her singing in place of much-needed consonants, resulting in a continuous stretch of unintelligible noise. The nauseating flair of baby-voiced cooing underneath it all is simply too much, and I can hardly sit through her completely disorganized, flailing version of “Fallin’.” Randy dumps on it immediately and I begin to fall in love with him a bit, but Tyler and J. Lo reel in the realism and shower a beaming Haley with the undeserved praise that will surely cement her place in the finals. Ugh.
15-year-old Thia Megia is 15 and sings so well no one can believe she’s only 15. Did I mention she’s 15? By the way, Thia is 15, the youngest contestant in the competition, and sings circles around her older colleagues. In spite of a slightly dead-eyed approach that can likely be attributed to her lack of life experience, Thia’s performance of “Out Here On My Own” is, in a pure musical sense, the best we’ve heard yet tonight. Now, in terms of charisma and star quality, Thia needs to display a bit more command of the stage, but her wise decision to begin a cappella with a single spotlight focused on her is a brilliant way to force viewers to pay attention. It works. Tyler says that “sometimes, a person’s pitch is so perfect it doesn’t matter what song they sing,” and proceeds to pat he and the other judges on the back for doing such a great job finding talent this year. Sheesh. Randy makes the spot-on observation that the “mark of a great singer” is often the “tone” of voice and not the showy runs many fall victim to (I’m looking at you, Xtina), but then confuses everyone when he tells Thia she reminds him of Michael Jackson. Her WTF face alone is worth sitting through Haley’s schlock. Bravo, Thia – now please just go get a personality and we’ll see you in the finals.
Lauren Alaina bounces on stage to further prove she’s really 35 pretending to be 16 in yet another beyond-her-years performance. Tonight’s song is Reba McEntire’s “On the Radio,” and although I’m not exactly a fan of the overly plucky tune, nor the overly plucky Lauren, her talent is undeniable. J. Lo notes with a hint of incredulity just how effortless all this seems to be for Lauren, while Randy compares her to a hybrid of Kelly Clarkson and Carrie Underwood. My acknowledgment of Lauren’s right to the finals is genuine, but I nearly overdose on precociousness when she takes the time to introduce us to “Peaches,” her nickname for Seacrest. God. This would be adorable coming from a first-grader, but from a gratingly bright-eyed and bushy-tailed teenager, calling such a ploy overkill is an understatement. How this girl manages to simultaneously appear both so much older and so much younger than she really is, however, perhaps marks the true depth of her shrewdness as an Idol contestant.
Pia Toscano closes the show with a star-making performance of the Pretenders’ classic “I’ll Stand By You.” I’m humbly reminded of my review last week in which I predicted her looming elimination, but clearly Pia just hadn’t been given the chance to really show us what she has to offer. The judges are also astounded, as J. Lo teases that she thinks Pia was “saving that” for when it really counted. While part of the success of Pia’s performance is surely due to her convenient placement in the lineup, it was thrilling to witness such a pivotal moment in the season. The judges give a standing ovation, of course, and J. Lo genuinely jumps up and down with glee. Pia’s mom is hyperventilating in the audience, and the girls – particularly Ashthon – are all badly concealing their oh, shit faces. Game on!
After an exhausting dual round of performances Tuesday and Wednesday, Thursday’s results show couldn’t possibly have drawn out the agony with further embellishment. After Pia, Lauren Alaina, Paul, Karen, Casey, Scotty, Thia, Jacob, James and, yes, Haley are named the Top 10, the remaining 14 contestants are up for six possible wild card slots the judges will determine. Those lucky six will have to sing another song to convince the judges to advance two (or three…) of them to the finals in lieu of America’s vote. J. Lo announces the three guys and three girls chosen for the wild cards: Ashthon, Naima, Kendra, Stefano, Robbie and Jovany. Interestingly, all six of them offer better performances than their original semifinal efforts, but Stefano and Naima, in particular, redeem themselves to an exponential degree. Ashthon, however, is called out as the eleventh finalist despite only continuing to shout her way through “And I Am Telling You I’m Not Going,” which she credits as a song “by Jennifer Hudson.” Does this girl know NOTHING? Next, Stefano is rightfully saved after his searing performance of “I Need You Now” erases the memory of what happened a mere 48 hours earlier. Just when my heart begins to break for Naima, however, the judges announce her as an extra finalist to round out a season 10 final lineup of 13 contestants. Oh, and J. Lo premiered her new video. Shrug. Although I’ll miss Brett and am sad for Kendra (whose spot was mistakenly given to Haley, I’m convinced), this year’s finalists make up the most impressive set of talent Idol has boasted in years. I’m genuinely looking forward to the mentorship of Jimmy Iovine and lack of counter-productive theme weeks, although witnessing an attempt at disco by Scotty McCreery would surely have been one for the record books.