Welcome, Idol fans, to this weekís results show recap, otherwise known as ďHow much crappy filler can we stuff into a 30 minute show to fluff it up to an hour?Ē Itís a toss up as to which you may think is worse: the judgesí idiotic blathering on Tuesday nights (*cough* Kara), or the lackluster performances they trudge in on Wednesday nights. Like, Jamie Foxx singing. Or, doing what he considers to be singing, apparently. I almost prefer to listen to Kara and her insipid prattling about ďartistry.Ē Or my cat yakking up a hairball.
A Pale Imitation
So, tonight itís down to the final five, and twee Ryan makes his not-so-grand entrance down the staircase to begin the festivities. Sorry, but Adam did it so much better the night before. Now that was an entrance. Dramatic lights, slinking down the stairs...oh, sorry. I promised myself I wasn't going to be all fangirly in this recap. *ahem* ďAn enormous amount of votesĒ were cast this week, chirps Ryan. Some 47 million votes, which qualifies as enormous, I suppose.
Speaking of enormous, Paula is all kinds of bedazzled tonight in her boobalicious dress, bouncing around in her seat. She's excited! For what reason is anyone's guess. Simon sports the same old white t-shirt that heís worn five bazillion times before, telling us that he thought everyone was good last night. The other two judges? Well, I do my best to ignore them, so I have no idea what they were doing.
Of course, we have a Ford commercial to get through before they get down to business. Tonight, our Idols are running in a drab, colorless desert. Oh, look, here comes a Ford something-or-other speeding through the barren landscape! It spins circles around the singers, leaving rainbow trails and flowers and trees and warm fuzzies in its wake. Everyone smiles, and color returns to the world. Isnít that special?
Some results would be special, too, yet they make us wait. And wait some more.
I'm In The Wrong Business...
Group sing time! This week they perform It Donít Mean A Thing, and I must say, it wasnít one of the better group sings Iíve heard. Not that Iím a huge fan of group sings, mind you. But, Kris was wet puppy cute in his plaid, Allison was cute in her leggings, Adam looked good in understated black, Matt was in his Hat, and Danny was....well, Danny. Same old.
Now, finally, some results - no, wait a minute. First we get to enjoy the forced frivolity of Danny and Allisonís food fight! Whee! See, both of them had birthdays this past weekend, so what better way to celebrate than to sling cake batter all over a gorgeous kitchen? Broken plates, flour, and cake goo litter the mansionís kitchen when they are done. Walls, floors, beautiful granite counters. Covered. Ryan jokingly (or, not) gives Danny a maidís bill for six grand to show how much it cost to clean up their fun. As if.
Play By Numbers
Okay, here we go. Results! After rehashing the judgesí comments from last night, Ryan sends Matt to the right side of the stage, Danny to the left. Allison is sent to join Danny. Kris is told to keep Matt company. Oh, noes - which group is the bottom two? Adam is called out last, and Ryan asks him to pick which group he thinks he belongs in. Yes, the dreaded Make Them Pick a Side. Adam chooses Danny and Allison, thinking they are in the top. No sir, says the elfin Ryan. He tells Adam to step on over to Loserland with Kris and Matt. A gasp erupts from the audience as Adam joins what is supposedly the bottom three.
I say supposedly because I think there was some shady math going on here, but I love me a conspiracy theory anyway. So, yeah. Iím convinced Adam was put there purely for the drama factor. Itís not like they ever announce how many votes each contestant gets, right? Shady.
The Soul Patrol Is Back. Sort Of.
After two and a half hours of commercials, Natalie Cole comes out to sing. She squeaks out Somethingís Gotta Give clad in a very unflattering dress thatís shaped like a bronze potato sack. But, poor Nat has been ill, and I remember how great she used to sound. Paula blows air kisses to her. Paula's on the good stuff tonight.
Four more hours of commercials, and itís Taylor Hicks on stage. He sings something off his new album, the title of which I didnít catch. Probably because I didnít much care for it. Not one bit. But, Taylorís looking good, having dropped a few pounds and toned up. So, yay for him. But he still dances like a doofus.
Wake up, weíre not done here! Kris is sent to stand with the safe group after Ryan teases him with one of his overly long dramatic pauses. Poor boy looks like heís about to pass out from nerves. Don't do it, Kris, your fangirls would be ever so upset.
You Can't Be Serious
Five hours of commercials later, and weíre forced to suffer through Jamie Foxx and his hit (Hit? Really?!) song Blame It. Oh, Iíd like to have someone to blame, alright. This is atrocious. It only goes to prove that even the most mediocre voice can be covered up by electronic effects and still sound...like crap. Like, say, Britney. Mute buttons were made for moments like this. Iíll give him this: Jamie was a much better mentor than he was a singer. Stick to what youíre good at, man.
Eleven and a half hours of commercials later, and here we are: the Moment of Truth. Or, what passes for truth on this show. See above comment on conspiracy theories. Ryan squeezes the hell out of the remaining eight minutes of show, trying to wring all the drama his widdle hands can get out of it. The lights dim, Matt and Adam stand nervously on stage, and Ryan announces that....Adam is safe! Well, duh. Adam hugs Matt and his Hat, leaving him to sing his goodbye rendition of My Funny Valentine. It sorta stunk, but, yeah - nerves and all that. Ryan shows clips of Mattís ďjourney,Ē and I go to pour myself a drink to celebrate Adamís safeness.
For next week is Rock Week, and it shall be good.