Season 10's new color palette is apparently purple and yellow.
By the tenth season of American Idol, Hollywood Week has been streamlined into nothing less than a highly efficient conveyor belt of death. One press of the button hovering beneath J-Lo's fingertips delivers a fatal cattle bolt to pitchy singers, who are later fed to Ryan Seacrest's sows. (Little-known fact: Seacrest is a gentleman farmer.) So yes, the stakes couldn't be higher! Last night began with Seacrest reminding us of the "epic journey" that awaits us. Move over, Iliad, and fetch your curved bow: The hunt for the next Lee Dewyze has begun! Then Randy Jackson waved a smoking thurible (I had to look that up) over the heads of this year's 327 hopefuls, delivering his annual papal blessing: "The talent, I'm telling you, it is MOST definitely better than ever this season. Season 10, dude, it's on fai-ah already!"
Hundreds of ecstatic Idol contestants file through LAX, and only a few are detained by authorities for "wanting this too much." They check into their hotel rooms and bounce giddily on their beds, as many of them come from small towns where beds don't exist. "We're living the dream!" says one who will soon not be living the dream.
But enough fun and games. The Moment of Reckoning has come. Contestants gather in a Pasadena auditorium and are lined up and shot asked to sing a cappella. They get one chance only to separate "the men from the boys, and the women from the girls," J-Lo explains. (They cut the part about "the frogs from the tadpoles, the adult mosquitoes from the wrigglers" for space.)
First up is Brett Loewenstern, who is just 16 and from Boca Raton. Apparently 17 years ago, Rush's Geddy Lee and Sarah Jessica Parker had a one-night-stand in Florida, and Brett is the product of that lusty union. Brett plays the Bully Card, and is one of only two in his group to move ahead. HA. EAT IT, bullies! Brett just won American Idol! Wait, I was just informed that Brett has not even made it to the Top 24 yet. You still have a horse in this race, bullies!
Bearish crooner Casey Abrams brings his raspy, skoopdeleboobeleeebop soul music stylings in full force, and is whisked right through. Apparently he works at "film camp." I do not know what film camp is, but I probably would have liked it a lot more than tennis camp! Thanks, parents who pushed me too hard in athletics!
Cutesy-pootsie recovering pageanteer Victoria Huggins brought 170 pieces of luggage—enough to keep her in ugly outfits through the contest, up to the show's finale (which she is going to win), and beyond into her first three album covers: "Introducing Victoria Huggins," "Love Me a Lot," and "Cotton Candy Thunderstorms." Unfortunately, she doesn't know how to sing (or clap—she keeps aiming for her forearm and missing), and she is sent home. Hugs, Huggins! To her credit, however, she took the news like an adult mosquito.
James is the young dad who was "diagnosed with Tourette's and high-functioning autism," who cries when he sings and can reach notes that make my head hurt. He goes through! I'm still waiting for the Tourette's to kick in. Maybe it'll take a live broadcast—exciting! Meanwhile, Stormi "Miss Teen USA" Henley looks like a young Brooke Shields and sounds like...uh...she doesn't really sound like anything? Her voice is the equivalent of noise-canceling headphones. Stormi goes down the drain. (Bad pun.)
Oy vey, it's Chris Medina. Keep it together, everyone. We can do this. Let's make a hug-circle. Chris sings, and sounds mediocre, but J-Lo points to the line on her rider that says "Ms. Lopez gets whatever she wants, always" so Chris and one other guy go through. Phew. All the cut contestants mutter under their breaths about how unfair that is, but the producers leave that part out.
Teen Power! Chubby Jacee Badeaux, Robbie Rosen (a former wheelchair user! Ask his mom to tell you about it), and Hollie Cavanaugh (who sobbed her way to a golden ticket) are put through.
Then a whole bunch of people suck and are given the cattle-bolt. ("It gets easier after a while!" J-Lo says, smiling.) Rob and Chelsea, aka the EXES—remember them?—are back. I find it amusing that Idol thinks I care about the contestants' having-sex history. I really don't! Anyway they both sound pretty good and are put through.
On the other end of the contestants-having-sex spectrum, Nick and Jacqueline, that icky-in-love couple, face the unthinkable when Jacqueline goes through and Nick does not. Torn Apart by Talent: The Nick and Jacqueline Story. Anyway, Nick, who just seems so desperate for fame as to make me feel highly uncomfortable in the comfort of my own home (thanks, Nick. This is my HOME. My SANCTUARY) does that cringe-inducing thing where a contestant begs for another chance, and is told no, but just keeps singing anyway. Even Jacqueline couldn't deal with him, and marches for the doors to give her victory interview: "Oh, hi, Nick. I guess you're going to stand next to me during my victory interview? Oh, you're going to hijack it? I see. Did you just ask Ryan Seacrest how he could be so dead inside as to not care more that you didn't make it through? Look, I'll call you from the Round Two victory party. We're going to this place called Saddle Ranch for drinks and apps. No, sorry, baby. It's just for winners. No, baby, I think you're a winner. I just mean American Idol winners..."
Scotty McCreery, just 17 and the bassiest singing sensation since Tay Zonday, is back with the same country song that got him through to Hollywood. Scotty is going to go far, I think, so long as he can avoid Disco Week, Salsa Week, Rock Week, Beatles Week, Diana Ross Week, Hummed Movie Score Week, and Muslim Calls to Prayer Week.
Still with me? We're down to our last two. Tiffany Rios, who Seacrest describes as "robust" (that's a euphemism for fat) is back, this time without cardboard stars on her boobs—but apparently a unicorn took a dump in her hair. She begins with a nugget of "honesty": "I'm tired of seeing people trying to do what I know I can," then launches into her performance, which is awful, so I guess the other people were trying to be awful but were good? Anyway, she goes through, because every season needs a crazy. And finally, young Travis Orlando, who spoke movingly about being homeless with his family in the Bronx, cracks on a Maroon 5 song. It's the end of the line for Travis's singing aspirations...for now. (Just kidding. Forever.)
And that's it! What did you think? Picked out any favorites yet?
Just to let you know the guy who has tourette's has already shown it. Tourettes is not just cussing. They have ticks like twitching and jerking and voice ticks. In his audition episode he kept twitching his eye, that is one of his ticks.