Idol: Deal Or No Deal
I thought wildcard night was going to be next week, but those sneaky buggers at Idol snuck it out this week, so I suppose I’d better blog it. Damn you, American Idol; haven’t you punished us enough? I’ll try to keep it brief.
Oh, but first, a word on this week’s results show. The group performance of Katy Perry’s Hot and Cold must rate as the worst bit of theatre in the history of the show. Shambolic dancing, awful miming, and all the boys forced to sit down throughout because of Blind Scott. And then there was the coronation of Lil Rounds. Oh, and Jorge (yay) and Blind Scott (boo) also got through. Now on to the wildcard performances:
Jesse Langseth kicked off the hour with a languid speakeasy rendition of Tell Me Something Good. The notes were wild, but the vibe was good, and she was smart enough to try to be quirky, which is bad when the public is voting, but good when it’s just the judges. Suddenly I like her.
Matt Giraud also went retro with a smooth blues version of Who’s Loving You, and after his abortive Coldplay number it’s nice to see him remembering to do what he’s good at. If he’d sung this the first time around he’d have been voted through! Simon says, “I saw bits of Taylor Hicks”, and the other judges get annoyed with him for making that belittling comparison. Uh, guys; Taylor Hicks won his season. It’s a mystery to us all, but he did win.
Spaniel-haired Megan did more of her arrhythmic shimmying with Black Horse and the Cherry Tree, and she seemed more relaxed and engaged this time around. Again, she would have been wise to perform like this on the first show. Did the existence of wildcard night make everyone think they had a guaranteed safety net?
If there’s one contestant whose presence on wildcard night I do not understand, it’s Von Smith, who, when asked to tone down his shrieking vocal hysterics, was exposed as a singer with no range or vocal control. I forget what he sang. I don’t care. He hopefully won’t trouble my existence again.
I’ve been championing Jasmine Murray for a while, possibly becase she looks like a young Eartha Kitt, but her version of the Disney/Christina Aguilera song Reflection has none of Eartha’s purring black coffee vocals. She has a very sweet voice; she’s not quite mastered it yet.
Ricky Braddy sang Superstition, and he showed impressive vocal ability and stage presence. He really is the American Will Young. He wholly deserves to be in this competition, but it’s not to be.
It honestly sickens me that they brought Tatiana back. She’s not right in the head, and exploiting her for ratings is as low as this show has ever sunk. Her song was Saving All My Love For You - the same song she sang on the last live show - and again her voice conjures a mental image of a male Cybil Shephard tribute act. Since Jorge endeared the nation by talking in Spanish on Tuesday, Tatiana has developed a thick Spanish accent. This girl is as shameless as she is crazy. Ethnic gets votes, so suddenly she’s ethnic.
Finally, Anoop, whose smug self-branding as ‘Anoop Dog’, matched with his bad eyebrows and the lack of effort he puts into his stage outfits (you’re performing in front of millions! Pick out a decent shirt, for God’s sake!), has ensured that I will never like him. Anoop revives My Prerogative (or ‘Puuuh-rah-gah-tiv’ - does no-one know that this word has an R in the first syllable?), which got him a lot of love in Hollywood week, but you can’t be novel with the same act twice. Simon points out that he didn’t sing it very well, but prepares us all for the reality that Anoop is going to get through because they’re ‘casting’ the final 12 and they need some personalities.
And, sure enough, Anoop is through, along with Jasmine, Megan and Matt. That’s four people rather than three, which should be a big surprise, but, let’s face it, it really isn’t. Simon Cowell loves to pull this kind of stunt. For the record, from my initial prediction for the top 12, seven made it through, which is not too bad, though it is now out of 13.