news articles 23 April

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Tricks and treats on American Idol
Well, really just tricks, as Barry Manilow week on Fox’s hit show delivers a series of mediocre performances and a shocking finale. Our correspondent will never be the same, and neither will Barry.
By Q. Allan Brocka
An Advocate.com exclusive posted April 22, 2004

THE PERFORMANCE SHOW

To make up for last week’s scheduling meltdown, American Idol fans this week were wooed with a three-night spectacular spectacular. Monday was a repeat of the heavily edited "Uncut, Uncensored, and Untalented” episode, which I won’t rehash because those chumps punk’d themselves just fine. I’ll just say Paula "Big Girls Rock" Fuga’s infectious "American Idol in Hawaii" is still stuck in my head, like a chemically enhanced Kylie remix.

Then it’s Tuesday. Ryan Seacrest is black on black tonight, except for the front of his T-shirt—the victim of a crazed, Be-Dazzler–wielding Andy Gibb, Amy Grant, or attorney general. It’s all the Barry Manilow you can shake your stick at, but first let’s meet the judges. Simon Cowell is squeezed into the latest from Baby Gap. Paula Abdul broke her arm but apparently won the silver medal anyway. Randy Jackson’s gone Blue Hawaii, backed up by a lone gaydar-shattering fan holding a "We [heart] Randy" sign. As for the guest judge, here’s Barry in a very berry jacket and hair that would scare Roy Horn back into a coma. Ryan says they used Barry Manilow’s DNA to create Clay Aiken. I suppose the idea of Barry somehow injecting his DNA into Clay isn’t too far-fetched. It just doesn’t sound very safe.

We are reminded by Camp DeGarmo’s signage that "Diana is Diana-mite." I have a feeling Diana-mite not. Before the singing, we sit through a “Manilow for Dummies” video that explains he has many talents: a ranger (huh? Oh, arranger), piano man, and showman. It’s not very helpful and leaves me with a sense of "you had to be there." I had hoped to see some super-8 footage of him running willy-nilly through the Continental Baths of New York looking for an unsplooged towel to wipe off the piano bench so he could play backup for Bette Midler back in ‘72. No such luck.

Live on the screen from the room behind the screen, Ryan reveals the contestants. Fantasia tells us she boboed with Barry, and for the first time in my life I don’t understand a teenager. Oh, God, I’m finally old! The Bette Midler reference was tongue-in-cheek, I didn’t really understand it! I look up bobo at Urbandictionary.com and the definition is "bourgeois Bohemian" or "to give a blow job to someone." I don’t think that’s what Fantasia meant.

Dirty Diana DeGarmo is first in a little pantsuit she borrowed from Diane Keaton’s Realtor with all the colors of a fried egg. She sings "One Voice," which oddly has only one note. And she hits it. Over and over. And over. Once for each chin. She’s lost me this week, but the crowd goes bananas and even the judges like her. Randy says she started a little pitchy (that’s with a p not b), but she’s the most ambitious 16-year-old he’s ever met. Wrong, Randy. Truly ambitious 16-year-olds would skip you and go right to R. Kelly. Barry said he wrote this song in a dream where he imagined someone like her singing it. Like we’re supposed to believe he dreams about girls.

George Huff (speaking of “huff”—it’s the 4/20 episode!) is simply beside himself because "Mr. Manilow restructured the song in my style." What, corny and bad? His pastel outfit is worse than DeGarmo’s. It’s like the stylist told the contestants, "You can wear anything you want…as long as it’s in the spring ‘87 L.L. Bean catalog." A sign in the audience reads "Huff Is Buff." La Toya’s the only buff one. I think you mean “Huff Is Buffet.”

His performance is more hideous than I hoped for. Even a Huff-Stuffer like me knows he’s capable of better. That painful repetition "Get that feeling, get that feeling"—my inner Jeffrey Jones pronounces "Too many notes!" The judges reluctantly trash him. Except Barry Manilow, who gives an opinion so well–thought-out it’d make Antonin Scalia proud: "You did great, no matter what."

All bow for Jenny “the Hud” Hudson, who says she hasn’t had a chance to show us just how high she can get. Her monochromatic outfit is Cruella De Vil meets Working Girl, with a skunk-skin choker added for pizzazz. Her teensy high heels give her the posture of an ostrich. But man, can she sing. I don’t even want to hear the original "Weekend in New England" now. Hell, "Copacabana" and "Stuck on Band-Aid" are the only Barry tunes I really know anyway.

[Skip]

There’s that audience hottie with the "ennifer Rocks" sign again! He’s there every week, and his hand is always covering her J. Someone’s scribbled her face on another sign—or wait, is that a photo? After a fantastic performance that bring tears to my eyes (Ha! That means I am capable of feeling! Take that, stupid court-appointed psychologist!), the judges rightfully praise her. But you can tell Paula’s holding some kind of grudge. Maybe Jenny broke her arm when they both reached for the drumstick. Simon says she created something the show’s never seen before: "a battle of the divas," forgetting he and Seacrest have been doing just that since season 1.

Cut to another audience hottie. Now Seacrest introduces Australian Idol Guy Sebastian, who gets the same reaction the rest of the planet had to Ruben Studdard: "I’d hate to see who came in second." Seacrest rolls over to the Stepford Swans. One says the singing made the hair on her arms stand up. Thankfully her facial hair is in a petri dish somewhere in Beverly Hills.

Next, wearing a folded napkin and a denim jacket, is Jasmine Trias with "I’ll Never Love This Way Again." Somebody deflowered the poor dear and made a mess of her skirt. She looks like that maxi pad with the wings. She sounds lovely, but I’m not really connecting. I’m starting to lose my Flo-Po (Flower Power). A what’s with her family’s complicated signs? "Spansions Jasmine something…" Ack! They’re wordier than my recaps.

The judges like her. Paula thinks "every idol should have a Greatest Barry Manilow Hits album." Barry’s thinking, As luck would have it I’ve got tons in my trunk... Oh, wait, you mean with them singing my songs. Cute idea. No, really.

La Toya London’s wearing Jasmine in reverse, folded napkin on top, denim on bottom. To accent she’s chosen a thousand of her favorite bracelets and last week’s earrings. For her song choice, "All the Time," the music begins much louder than she is. She catches up and eventually drowns the bugger out. She’s great and all, but this song is so boring. We get a montage of supportive signs—apparently all of her fans are illiterate. She’ll end up in the bottom three again if they don’t figure out how to dial 1-866-IDOLS-06.

More platitudinous praise from the judges. Yawn. This episode’s getting tired. I want some teen ego mutilation. La Toya makes Manilow proud to be a songwriter, which was just so humiliating an occupation until American Idol came along. Simon pronounces her the best singer in the competition. No one mentions her tail.

After a commercial break Seacrest delivers a disturbing edict: "Females of America, feast your eyes on Barry Manilow." Now, my mother and I have completely different taste in men, but even we can agree that Manilow is more famine than feast. We move on to Fantasia—no, wait! It’s John Stevens. He’s still here?

Barry’s preshow advice to John is, "Don’t worry about the notes, don’t worry about the rhythm." John’s like, "Barry, I’m way ahead of you." He sits (again) for "Mandy." The way he squints, he could well be browning his briefs on that spittoon-shaped barstool, squeezing out lyrics and pinching them off with accompanying facial expressions. I plug my nose and sing along. I sound just like him! Try it! Plug your nose! "Oh, Bandy, well you cabe and you gabe wid’out taking…"

Simon says he looks like Stan Laurel, a reference that makes me feel young enough to bobo. But the judges are way too kind. They tell him he’s a nice kid. Come on! If being a pop star was about being nice instead of having talent, Paula Abdul would have like, seven number 1 hits. Oh...wait...

Finally, it’s time for Fantasia Barrino. ‘Tasey says she’s going to churchify "It’s a Miracle." (What do you know, it’s not the Culture Club song.) She pops out of her burgundy top and makes everyone stand and put their hands together. It dawns on me that no performer has come up with a graceful way of clapping and holding a microphone. The closest is Trenyce’s technique of rhythmically clacking her fingernails against the microphone’s long, sleek shaft.

They keep cutting to Fantasia’s baby daughter in the back room ignoring Mommy on TV. It’s annoying, and I keep thinking it’s a commercial break; but it gets me wondering about the Idol mansion, which we don’t see much of this season. Is there a makeshift nursery where her and La Toya’s kids fight over stuffed Nemos? And with all these underage contestants, is there a clutch of chaperones chain-smoking and playing mah-jongg on a porch somewhere? The hymn ends and the audience waits apprehensively for collection plates to be passed.

More watery praise from the judges. Paula says it’s right up Fantasia’s alley, although not really her own alley because she lives in the really good part of Encino. I want Paula to advise contestants to study her vocal technique on “Vibeology” or to tell long stories starting with, "It was 1989, Hammer time, I was in the studio taking on that complicated run in ‘Promise of a New Day’…" Ryan brings out Fantasia’s baby, and like a proud unwed teenage mom, she declares, "This is the miracle right here!" Miracle is the churchified word for accident.

Ryan recaps the digits and the idols join him onstage, representing all the colors of toilet deodorizers. Jenny proves it is indeed "Jenny’s world now" by making rabbit ears over Seacrest’s pointy (but sexy) head, and I begin alternately dialing IDOLS-03 and IDOLS-04 (Jennifer and Jasmine) for two hours. It’s almost as fun as a social life…I’m guessing.

www.advocate.com/html/stories/913/913_idol_4.asp

[Ava]

Skip said:

Cut to another audience hottie. Now Seacrest introduces Australian Idol Guy Sebastian, who gets the same reaction the rest of the planet had to Ruben Studdard: "I’d hate to see who came in second."

what is that supposed to mean? im confused


but thankyou skip

[Skip]

Ava said:

what is that supposed to mean? im confused


but thankyou skip

*shrugs* but i figured i'd post it anyways

[random]

They're basically saying he's a nobody...that the audience couldn't care less about him, and I assume the "I'd hate to see the guy who came in 2nd" is supposed to mean "If this guy managed to win, imagine how bad the rest of the contestants were!"

Le sigh.

[Inside Australian Idol]

Wannabe idols en masse, with fame in their sights
By Anthony Sharwood
Friday, 23 April 2004

They came from Ulladulla, from Gundagai and from suburbs the length and breadth of Canberra.

From 6pm on Wednesday, they camped outside Canberra Stadium in their faded jeans, their mini-skirts, their evening gowns and their dressing gowns.

They shivered in the midnight chill, then baked in the midday sun. Some preened. Others leaned. Some sang Bob Marley songs. Some could barely speak. But for all of them, it was worth it.

For 1000 Australian Idol hopefuls and their 3000 companions, the moment of truth had at last arrived.

Some, like Bella, 18, of Griffith, were old hands. Bella made it to the first Idol series, only to be told by judge Ian "Dicko" Dickson, "You're beautiful but you can't sing."

And has the beautiful Bella brushed up on her vocal skills in the interim?

"Nup!"

Others, like Nigel, of Campbelltown, were performing before an audience for the first time. "I'm doing it for the experience, so I can say I've done it."

Some rated their chances highly. Joudita, of Gowrie, finished second in the local radio Idol quest, leading her to claim "I'm a real chance in this competition." Jazz crooner Matt King Cade, 22, was more philosophical. "If they miss me, they're the ones who miss out."

By mid-morning, the first hopefuls emerged from their ordeal before the Idol producers. The judging process was swift. As one Idol publicist said, "At this stage of the competition, they're blunt and to the point. It's a case of yay nay bang."

Seventeen-year-old Tim Ward, of Yass, was relieved to pass muster. He dedicated his song to his pet cow Josie.

Not so lucky was Monika Radinger, 16, of Narrabundah. "They told me I have a lot of potential and I'll go far, but I'm not what they're looking for. My theory is they're creating a Bloopers Idol."

By 5pm, it was all over. A thousand had been reduced to 50 or 60, who will face judges Marcia Hines, Mark Holden and the dreaded Dicko in the second round at Old Parliament House today.

"It's going to be pretty emotional in front of the judges," Sydneysider Hayley Legg said.

Canberra, like Hobart, Darwin and Tamworth, is a newcomer to the Australian Idol circuit. Channel Ten Publicist Stella Katsaros, who is travelling with the eight- week, nine-city roadshow, said she was not surprised by the size of the turnout in the capital.

And the quality of the talent?

"Yeah, we were really pleased," Ms Katsaros said. "Canberra really brought out some great talent."


canberra.yourguide.com.au/detail.asp?class=news&subclass=local&story_id=301783&category=General+News&m=4&y=2004

[MaybeNext]

Ava said:

what is that supposed to mean? im confused


but thankyou skip

It's a satire. I found this article before but didn't post it because it basically disses everyone.

[SoCrazyInLoveWithGUY]

It's a really bitchy article. I expect the author thinks s/he's pretty clever.