Greetings from my office, where I hadn't expected to be this morning, because I thought I would be home nursing a hangover from partying all night after having been in the audience for Neil Diamond Week at "American Idol," but --
Let this be a lesson to you, if you have dreams of coming West and achieving nirvana by actually witnessing "American Idol" in person: Unless you have a real, honest-to-God ticket that says "Admit One" in your hot little hand, it ain't gonna happen.
It's the old bait-and-switch. You sign up online for some service like "Live TV Audiences.com" or something, and eventually they send you an e-mail saying you have four hours to respond if you want tickets to whatever show you've requested. Look at the e-mail carefully, people! It's not the same as a ticket.
This I found out yesterday, after my friends Mo and Mark got the e-mail alert on Friday that their names had finally come up to see an "Idol" performance episode. They invited our mutual friend Philip to take their third ticket. Philip had to work yesterday and graciously offered his seat in the studio audience to me. So off I went, hoping to be able to report to you this morning first-hand about the differences between live performances and what we see on our TV screens, and about the secrets and surprises of an "Idol" broadcast. No such luck.
What little experience I ended up having was not what I'd call positive. First of all, I try to go to places where I'm the youngest person in attendance: Steve Lawrence & Eydie Gorme concerts . . . Denny's before 4:30 . . . Palm Springs. The line to get in to see "American Idol" outside Television City in Hollywood is not one of those places. I kept looking at the other people in line, thinking, Aren't you supposed to be in school? And they kept looking at me, thinking, Aren't you supposed to be dead?
Here are a couple of little factoids for you. Although "American Idol" is a Fox show, it broadcasts from the CBS Television City facility, the same place you'd go to see "The Price is Right." It's a huge complex of studios, and next door to the stage where "Idol" performance episodes originate on Tuesday nights is the studio where ABC's "Dancing with the Stars" results show is produced. The audience lines for the two shows are next to one another on Beverly Boulevard. And let me tell you, the vibe is entirely different. "American Idol" draws pubescent teenagers dressed in hip clothes. "Dancing with the Stars" attracts well dressed senior citizens with artificial hips. Next time, for me, it's "Dancing" all the way. I'll fit right in.
After two hours of standing in the sun, looking ancient and carrying my "SYESHA SHINES LIKE A DIAMOND" sign (thanks, Andrea, for making the sign -- you can buy it back from me on Ebay on Thursday), we were ushered onto the CBS lot proper by a poor shmuck named Jason, who told us at last that we were not actually ticket-holders. We were seat fillers. And we'd be used when and if the people with real tickets -- the "VIPs" -- didn't show up. Jason explained that we might be separated from our friends, and we might not be seated until the first break, but he was confident that we'd all get in. He was incorrect.
After last night, I now officially hate all people named Jason.
The "compensation" for our trouble when we were sent home about ten minutes after the live broadcast began? Mo and Mark can call "Live TV Audiences.com" or whatever on Friday, and they will be given "guaranteed" seats for next Tuesday's show. So let me see. The "VIPs" who actually got in to see last night's show? They're last week's seat fillers who were turned away.
Call me cynical, but I don't think next week's "guaranteed" seats are any more guaranteed than this week's, so I will be doing what I usually do (and what I ended up doing last night) -- filling a seat at home, where I don't look 40 years older than everybody else and where there's never a line to get in.
Despite my bitter disappointment over the cruel hand fate dealt me, I managed to watch the West Coast tape delay broadcast of the five remaining contestants attempting to do justice to the catalog of Neil Diamond. Yikes.
Traditionally, when "Idol" gets to the top five contestants, they must sing two songs each. But there was no Top Five last year -- they had the Top Six two weeks in a row, and then eliminated two people to break to the Top Four (because the producers didn't eliminate anyone during "Idol Gives Back" week). So the last time "Idol" offered up a Top Five episode, there was no hour-long "Hell's Kitchen" immediately following -- so the show was 90 minutes long.
Last night, because Fox wanted the solid 60 minutes of advertising revenue supplied by a known hit like "Hell's Kitchen," rather than the minimal amount of money they might make if they followed a 90-minute "Idol" with, say, a repeat of "Back to You," the producers had to cram a traditional Top Five show (mentor introduction, pre-performance "packages," ten performances and judges' critiques) into a non-traditional hour.
The results were largely disastrous. Contestants had to edit songs severely to shoehorn them into the time constraints. And individual critiques of the singers' first songs were dispatched in favor of a judges' "recap" midway through the show that will live forever in the memories of "Idol" fans, not to mention on Youtube.
If you did actually see last night's episode, I hope you preserved it. Here's one thing that can be guaranteed: There'll never be another Top Five show like this one again -- ever.
ROUND ONE
JASON CASTRO -- "Forever in Blue Jeans" -- 5 / 85
I have two words for this performance. They are "ho" and "hum."
DAVID COOK -- "I'm Alive" -- 3 / 93
David C., accompanying himself on his electric guitar, took a lesser-known ND song and sang it just like you'd expect ND to sing it himself. He did a more-than-passable imitation of Neil's razorblades-on-sandpaper voice, and therein lies my only problem with this performance: It sounded more like an impression of Neil Diamond than it did a performance by David Cook.
BROOKE WHITE -- "I'm a Believer" -- 4 / 88
Well, I have to hand it to Brooke. Her first song last night inspired an entire screenplay to bloom fully flowered in my mind.
It's the story of two teenagers, a girl played by Miley Cyrus and a boy with a too-precious name like Zachariah, Jonah or Colton. They attend the same high school in Sherman Oaks or Toluca Lake or someplace like that and are always vying against each other for titles like class president or "Most Popular." Early on, we learn, and they learn, that Miley's divorced mother and Zacoltah's widowed dad are engaged to marry each other, making these bitter rivals about to become siblings.
In an effort to foster warm familial ties between them, the parents decide to send them to the same summer camp. The first night, the preternaturally chipper Camp Mom gathers all the children and, accompanying herself on the guitar, tries to spread joy and happiness among them by singing, in a key too low for her voice, a cloyingly upbeat version of "I'm a Believer." She strums, she smiles, she bats her eyes, she hits more than a few clunker notes, it's painful. Miley and Jocolzach begin to bond when they realize they have something in common -- neither one of them can stand Camp Mom. And so, together, they burn her at the stake.
Let this be a lesson to you, if you have dreams of coming West and achieving nirvana by actually witnessing "American Idol" in person: Unless you have a real, honest-to-God ticket that says "Admit One" in your hot little hand, it ain't gonna happen.
It's the old bait-and-switch. You sign up online for some service like "Live TV Audiences.com" or something, and eventually they send you an e-mail saying you have four hours to respond if you want tickets to whatever show you've requested. Look at the e-mail carefully, people! It's not the same as a ticket.
This I found out yesterday, after my friends Mo and Mark got the e-mail alert on Friday that their names had finally come up to see an "Idol" performance episode. They invited our mutual friend Philip to take their third ticket. Philip had to work yesterday and graciously offered his seat in the studio audience to me. So off I went, hoping to be able to report to you this morning first-hand about the differences between live performances and what we see on our TV screens, and about the secrets and surprises of an "Idol" broadcast. No such luck.
What little experience I ended up having was not what I'd call positive. First of all, I try to go to places where I'm the youngest person in attendance: Steve Lawrence & Eydie Gorme concerts . . . Denny's before 4:30 . . . Palm Springs. The line to get in to see "American Idol" outside Television City in Hollywood is not one of those places. I kept looking at the other people in line, thinking, Aren't you supposed to be in school? And they kept looking at me, thinking, Aren't you supposed to be dead?
Here are a couple of little factoids for you. Although "American Idol" is a Fox show, it broadcasts from the CBS Television City facility, the same place you'd go to see "The Price is Right." It's a huge complex of studios, and next door to the stage where "Idol" performance episodes originate on Tuesday nights is the studio where ABC's "Dancing with the Stars" results show is produced. The audience lines for the two shows are next to one another on Beverly Boulevard. And let me tell you, the vibe is entirely different. "American Idol" draws pubescent teenagers dressed in hip clothes. "Dancing with the Stars" attracts well dressed senior citizens with artificial hips. Next time, for me, it's "Dancing" all the way. I'll fit right in.
After two hours of standing in the sun, looking ancient and carrying my "SYESHA SHINES LIKE A DIAMOND" sign (thanks, Andrea, for making the sign -- you can buy it back from me on Ebay on Thursday), we were ushered onto the CBS lot proper by a poor shmuck named Jason, who told us at last that we were not actually ticket-holders. We were seat fillers. And we'd be used when and if the people with real tickets -- the "VIPs" -- didn't show up. Jason explained that we might be separated from our friends, and we might not be seated until the first break, but he was confident that we'd all get in. He was incorrect.
After last night, I now officially hate all people named Jason.
The "compensation" for our trouble when we were sent home about ten minutes after the live broadcast began? Mo and Mark can call "Live TV Audiences.com" or whatever on Friday, and they will be given "guaranteed" seats for next Tuesday's show. So let me see. The "VIPs" who actually got in to see last night's show? They're last week's seat fillers who were turned away.
Call me cynical, but I don't think next week's "guaranteed" seats are any more guaranteed than this week's, so I will be doing what I usually do (and what I ended up doing last night) -- filling a seat at home, where I don't look 40 years older than everybody else and where there's never a line to get in.
Despite my bitter disappointment over the cruel hand fate dealt me, I managed to watch the West Coast tape delay broadcast of the five remaining contestants attempting to do justice to the catalog of Neil Diamond. Yikes.
Traditionally, when "Idol" gets to the top five contestants, they must sing two songs each. But there was no Top Five last year -- they had the Top Six two weeks in a row, and then eliminated two people to break to the Top Four (because the producers didn't eliminate anyone during "Idol Gives Back" week). So the last time "Idol" offered up a Top Five episode, there was no hour-long "Hell's Kitchen" immediately following -- so the show was 90 minutes long.
Last night, because Fox wanted the solid 60 minutes of advertising revenue supplied by a known hit like "Hell's Kitchen," rather than the minimal amount of money they might make if they followed a 90-minute "Idol" with, say, a repeat of "Back to You," the producers had to cram a traditional Top Five show (mentor introduction, pre-performance "packages," ten performances and judges' critiques) into a non-traditional hour.
The results were largely disastrous. Contestants had to edit songs severely to shoehorn them into the time constraints. And individual critiques of the singers' first songs were dispatched in favor of a judges' "recap" midway through the show that will live forever in the memories of "Idol" fans, not to mention on Youtube.
If you did actually see last night's episode, I hope you preserved it. Here's one thing that can be guaranteed: There'll never be another Top Five show like this one again -- ever.
ROUND ONE
JASON CASTRO -- "Forever in Blue Jeans" -- 5 / 85
I have two words for this performance. They are "ho" and "hum."
DAVID COOK -- "I'm Alive" -- 3 / 93
David C., accompanying himself on his electric guitar, took a lesser-known ND song and sang it just like you'd expect ND to sing it himself. He did a more-than-passable imitation of Neil's razorblades-on-sandpaper voice, and therein lies my only problem with this performance: It sounded more like an impression of Neil Diamond than it did a performance by David Cook.
BROOKE WHITE -- "I'm a Believer" -- 4 / 88
Well, I have to hand it to Brooke. Her first song last night inspired an entire screenplay to bloom fully flowered in my mind.
It's the story of two teenagers, a girl played by Miley Cyrus and a boy with a too-precious name like Zachariah, Jonah or Colton. They attend the same high school in Sherman Oaks or Toluca Lake or someplace like that and are always vying against each other for titles like class president or "Most Popular." Early on, we learn, and they learn, that Miley's divorced mother and Zacoltah's widowed dad are engaged to marry each other, making these bitter rivals about to become siblings.
In an effort to foster warm familial ties between them, the parents decide to send them to the same summer camp. The first night, the preternaturally chipper Camp Mom gathers all the children and, accompanying herself on the guitar, tries to spread joy and happiness among them by singing, in a key too low for her voice, a cloyingly upbeat version of "I'm a Believer." She strums, she smiles, she bats her eyes, she hits more than a few clunker notes, it's painful. Miley and Jocolzach begin to bond when they realize they have something in common -- neither one of them can stand Camp Mom. And so, together, they burn her at the stake.
That was Brooke's performance of "I'm a Believer" last night: Camp Mom, before she's burned at the stake.
DAVID ARCHULETA -- "Sweet Caroline" -- 1 / 95
Amazing. This was the first time since he sang "Shop Around" during the Group of 24 that David Archuleta sang a peppy, feel-good song and displayed a real joy in performing it. He changed the tune around a bit, tried to avoid squinting (though he did have some major lip-licking moments) and actually looked like he was having fun! Best of the first round, and David A.'s best in a long, long time.
SYESHA MERCADO -- "Hello Again" -- 2 / 94
I couldn't tell you if Syesha gave a good physical performance of this song, because she sang much of it seated on the stage, in front of the ridiculous arm wavers of the Mosh Pit. Considering what we see of them, why don't the producers rename it the Arm Pit? Ugh. Vocally, Syesha got a little screechy in the middle of this, one of my favorite ND ballads, but the beginning and the end were well controlled and just lovely.
THE ROUND ONE RECAP
Last week, I predicted that Brooke White -- having used up the sympathy she generated for missing her sister's wedding, starting off in the wrong key on of one song and forgetting the words to another -- would pull a Marie Osmond and, this week, faint on air. Well, we had a collapse, all right, but it was not a physical implosion by Brooke White, it was a mental meltdown by Paula Abdul. As Brooke herself might say, "Woooo-hoooo!"
Denied the opportunity to comment on the first round of songs individually, they had to address the Idols as a group and give very short critiques of each performer's first number. After Randy Jackson's usual litany of catchphrases, Paula, frantically rearranging Post-it notes in front of her, started commenting on Jason Castro's first song. And then -- oh, my -- she started criticizing his second song. The one he hadn't sung yet. She kept at it for a few awkward seconds until Randy jumped in with, "He's only sung one song," to which Paula replied, "He has? I thought he sang twice." And then she tried to keep going, to the point that Ryan Seacrest had to step in. In one of his rare displays of quick-wittedness, he tried to lighten the moment by saying, "Paula, you're seeing the future! Paula, come back to the present," or something like that. Simon Cowell, the only member of the regular cast with enough gravitas and savvy to exert some control, finally wrested the whole thing from the drug-addled Paula, the panicked Randy and the earnest but ineffective Ryan and gave his one-word critiques of the five singers' first performances.
Is there anyone left who doesn't think we'll see Paula Abdul in a future season of "Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew"? I didn't think so.
Hilarious? Tragic? Whatever it was, it was memorable.
ROUND TWO
JASON CASTRO -- "September Morn" -- 5 / 79
Jason's first song was boring, but it wasn't bad. This one was wretched. He was off-key on the first note, and that turned out to be the best moment of the whole performance. Unlike David A. and Brooke, who changed the melodies of their songs to personalize them to their styles and ranges, Jason changed the melody because he didn't know the melody. And the last four notes? Abysmal. This boy puts the dread in dreadlocks. He clearly doesn't want to be in the competition anymore, and as a result is barely even trying. It's an insult, and I'm offended.
DAVID COOK -- "All I Really Need is You" -- 1 / 98
A sublime performance. The only song that built naturally during the extremely short amount of time the contestants were allotted for each number, and David worked the build beautifully: He hit his two glory notes, and within the space of another measure or two, followed them with a soft sustained falsetto note that floated on air. One of David C.'s best, and easily the best of the night.
BROOKE WHITE -- "I Am, I Said" -- 4 / 92
Brooke, didn't you learn a lesson a couple of months ago when David Archuleta told Ryan Seacrest he had to pee, and then Ryan repeated it on air moments later? You should never have told Ryan you had written the lyrics to "I Am, I Said" on your hand so you wouldn't forget them, because he so busted you. Fortunately, you didn't have to look at them (it would have affected your piano playing if you had). Unfortunately, the allotted time wasn't enough for Brooke to really build this number to the heights of existential despair it attempts to reach. I'd like to watch Brooke perform the whole song sometime -- I bet it would be terrific.
DAVID ARCHULETA -- "America" -- 3 / 94
Several friends of mine and I collaborated on an informal pool, trying to guess who would sing what during Neil Diamond Week on "American Idol." This was the only song I predicted correctly. How could anybody not predict that David Archuleta, the crown prince of bleeding-heart social-issue balladeers, would sing this salute to immigrants? When he got to the cheesetastic coda -- My country 'tis of thee / Sweet land of liberty / Of thee I sing / Of thee I sing / Today! -- I burst out laughing. Simon praised this as a smart song choice. I think he likened it to Kristy Lee Cook's choice of "God Bless the U.S.A." a few weeks ago. But Kristy Lee's song was a hymn to patriotism. Neil Diamond's "America" is a paean to immigration -- not exactly the most popular cause David Archuleta has championed. Of course, David A. has no idea what he's singing about. But a portion of his audience does. This could spell as much trouble for him as the blasphemous "Jesus Christ Superstar" caused for Carly Smithson a week ago. I see trouble ahead.
(Kudos, by the way, to my aforementioned friend Philip, who won that informal pool by correctly guessing that Jason Castro would sing "September Morn" and Syesha Mercado would sing "Hello Again." A fabulous prize is on its way to you. Would you like a sign that says "SYESHA MERCADO SHINES LIKE A DIAMOND"?)
SYESHA MERCADO -- "Thank the Lord for the Nighttime" -- 2 / 95
What a great way to end Neil Diamond Week, with a fun, upbeat number that allowed Syesha to show off some sweet high notes and a little gospel sass. A delightful contrast to the longingness of her first number, making it a smart strategic choice as well.
Here's how it all adds up:
Jason Castro 5 / 85 + 5 / 80 = 10 / 165 Fifth place
David Cook 3 / 93 + 1 / 98 = 4 / 191 First place
Brooke White 4 / 88 + 4 / 92 = 8 / 176 Fourth place
David Archuleta 1 / 95 + 3 / 94 = 4 / 189 Second place (tie)
Syesha Mercado 2 / 94 + 2 / 95 = 4 / 189 Second place (tie)
Ties are not allowed, and so, to determine second place on my ballot, it's time to employ the time-honored tiebreaker used for so many years at the Ohio Forensic Association state intercollegiate speech championships: Reciprocals! Ranks are turned into reciprocals of themselves (so a 1 becomes the reciprocal of 1 -- which is 1; a 2 becomes the reciprocal of 2, which is 0.5; a 3 becomes the reciprocal of 3, which is 0.34; etc.). Highest score wins the tie.
Looking, then, at the two tied contestants, the results are as follows:
David Archuleta 1.0 + 0.34 = 1.34
Syesha Mercado 0.5 + 0.5 = 1.0
David Archuleta squeaks by to earn the second-place vote on my scorecard, pushing Syesha into the bottom three with Jason and Brooke.
We're likely to get only a bottom two tonight, though. Will America agree with me that Jason and Brooke both deserve seats on the Stainless Steel Stools of Ignominy? Nah. Jason Castro is going to get a huge boost of sympathy votes from the fact that Mad Paula criticized him before he'd even sung his second song. Millions of his tone-deaf fans will have voted for him to protest the unfairness of it all, figuring that his disastrous performance was the result of this wretched injustice.
Syesha tends to find herself at the bottom of the pile more often than not, so I expect she'll be there again tonight. And I think her seatmate will be Brooke. Brooke was saved last week after her do-over disaster of "You Must Love Me." This season, there tends to be a one-week lag between putrid performance and blessed send-off, so I think tonight is the night we finally will see Camp Mom burned at the stake.
I will be seat filling at home anxiously awaiting the results.
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