Dancing With The Stars - American Idol: the last word, sort of

Indulge me while I write about my true interest in life: television of the reality genre. T'is true that I'm a People mag sort of girl. Actually, I prefer US because they never try to be high-minded about their gossip and besides, my friend, Stefanie Wilder-Taylor does fashion reviews for them.

Stephanie and others do round-up/wrap-ups of shows like American Idol and Dancing With the Stars. I prefer to just pop in occasionally for the brief--140 character--insightful comment, which is why you may want to follow me on Twitter one of these days.

This week, unfortunately, my fleet fingers were otherwise occupied, so the final finales (as opposed to the penultimate finales) of both shows went by without my wit and wisdom. Or at least my wit. Or maybe just wisdom. I dunno, 'cause I tend to think I'm funnier than I am.

DWTS: Of course, Shawn Johnson won. She is, after all, America's Sweetheart. And we need to appreciate her more these days because when she finally grows up--and out--her body will settle into something resembling a fireplug, and we won't like her so much because she will no longer be Cute. Think Mary Lou Retton. Not only that, but Hair & Makeup really did right by her. Compare the look she sported in the Olympics, when I assume she was responsible for her own glitter and eyeshadow, to Tuesday night's, and there alone you're talking the difference between a girl and a woman. Now I'm wondering if she'll maintain that look--false eyelashes and all--for the 2012 Games.

American Idol: Of course, Krissss won. And I don't think it had anything to do with the homophobia thing. I think that is just an easy excuse, like the stutterer who couldn't get a job on radio because he was Jewish. Nor do I think Kris got the Christian vote. Actually, I didn't know there was a Christian Vote until he brought it up. I voted for Kris and I'm not Christian. I voted for Kris because I don't think Adam will wear as well in the public eye. The thing that made Adam so brilliant was that he Performed his songs. What he lacked was any real connection with the music and the audience. If singing is a form of communication, then Adam was Narcissus, creating the perfect picture--for himself.

Tonight begins So You Think You Can Dance, and I'll be there. As I will for the season opening of Jon and Kate Plus Eight. Aren't you excited????

Nashville Star vs American Idol - The Judges

Here's the difference: Nashville Star, the judges are Serious with a capital S about critiquing the singers. America Idol, it's pretty much a joke, as we all know. The three judges on Nashville Star--Jeffrey Steele, John Rich, and Jewel--are working hard; they are not just stage dressing (that would be Billie Ray Cyrus). They're coming up with thoughtful, articulate, professional critiques of the particular performance and the singer generally. There's a sense, particularly with the two guys, that they see themselves as gatekeepers to Nashville; they don't want anyone in who doesn't really belong in the Country genre. That makes the show a real learning experience for the singers and for the audience, which adds a dimension that American Idol, with only one serious judge, can't achieve. The numbers are down on AI and I wonder if it's that it's become so very predictable. Who cares what Randy and Paula have to say since they don't ever say anything of substance. They've been coasting on cute and cute gets boring after a while.

Idol Gives Back

At what point does the appeal for donations by showing the reality of the needy's lives (and if that isn't an awkward amalgamation of words) move from helpful to hokey? Or--are all these give-give-give shows really doing good?
1. I loathe (okay, maybe dislike intensely) that program where the former model-turned-carpenter-turned-reality show star engineers the giving of a fantastic home--built and paid for by a corporation who garner more good will than any ad campaign could yield--to a needy-but-incredibly-deserving family. In the midst of an hour long program (minus commercials, of course), the plight of the family is dragged out for all of us to sob and sigh over: ah, the hard luck; oh, the disease; woe, the fickle finger of fate. At the end of the hour, the family's reward for having us slobber over their very life is a new house. Our reward is the relief those sobs and sighs afford. The network's reward is--well, you know what it is. This kind of a program is a 21st century version of Queen for A Day: may the most tragic--and entertaining--tale win and take home the crown, whatever it may be.

2. American Idol Gives Back: Is this in the same genre, only with better music and prettier people on stage?
I came in in the middle of it tonight, right about when Annie Lennox was doing something with poor black babies in Africa. That was only one of a number of Very Poor Folks trotted out for us, the viewing public, to see in all their misery and degradation. This, so that we would be moved to donate to the Idol Gives Back charity. We visited, among others, a New York mother and her two kids with Simon and a Kentucky family with Miley and Billy Rae Cyrus. I felt intensely uncomfortable, because of the way in which the meanness of these peoples lives was not only on show, it was the show. The camera-work was excellent, coming right in for a tender closeup of the ceiling fan with a bulb dangling forlornly; the sores on the New York mother's nose and forehead were technicolored; the Kentucky mother's teeth were--missing. Billy Ray Cyrus was practically gagging over the state of the Kentucky trailer. As the music dipped and soared, he stuttered that even when he'd called Kentucky home, he'd never seen such a place or knew that people lived like that. Simon, on the other hand, actually got in there and touched the people he was visiting, hugged them even, but all the while he looked veddy veddy British, stiff and formal and longing to Wash His Hands. I squirm right along with him, wondering what this family is thinking having this television star and his retinue, bright lights and camera, shoehorned into their tiny tenement. But then something changes for me. I find myself not so much anxious at these pictures of abject poverty, but involved with the mother and her kids. They have names now and faces and some dreams about what the future can be for them. They are, therefore, no longer the statistical They, but real people who I feel a connection to. My discomfort now is being matched by my involvement, my urge to participate, to act--to give back.

So here's the thing: when does outright manipulation of an audiences' emotions become necessary, a tool for teaching us, hoisting us up by the collar so that we are forced to look at the way the world really is? And if the only way in which we can be made to see is by sandwiching reality with starlight, is that such a bad thing? I don't know.

What I Learned From My Last Post

1. That my regular readers were struck dumb. I can't believe it was the quality of the post--oh no, never that. Perhaps it was the quantity. I have long questioned just how long a post should be before it is too long. There are some bloggers, not present company of course, who do go on and on and on and on and on, etc. etc. ad infinitum. One might say they have bloggorhea. One might--and I just did. I suggest a firm editing hand to those bloggers, but then I thought Emerson (as in Ralph Waldo) needed a good editor. And Leibniz as well.
2. That I am not the first to remark on Chikezie's gums. "Chikezie and gums" is evidentally a relatively popular search term.
3. That another popular search is for "Amanda Overmeyer and Jewish". I don't know why, since I'd be willing to bet she isn't (mainly because Jewish girls don't ride Harley hogs) and how it is that so many people who wrote about her also wrote about some Jewish thing. I did, yes, but in two completely separate posts. Which leads one to wonder just how and where that Google worm is crawling.
4. That I needn't hit Vegas with my American Idol bets. But in all fairness, I was calculating on a popularity contest result and America, this time America did the singing thing.

American Idol - by Jane

Yes, folks, I actually took notes while watching tonight. And now you, you lucky things, are the beneficiaries of same. To begin, then:

1. Amanda Overmeyer: she of the two-toned hair. What is it with this black and blonde thing--she's the third person I've seen it on and forgive me if I say, I don't like it, it looks cheap and tawdry and tatty and rocker chick. Oh, yeah, she IS a rocker chick. Okay, on her it's skunk chic. I got all caught up in her hair style tonight, because I was BORED. Here's what I wrote: "If she doesn't change up her singing style, she's going to lose because all that rock is boring after a while." Here's what Simon said (and I swear he said it after I wrote my note): "Predictable...in danger of being boring..."
2. Kristy Lee Cook: I like her. She's a plucky gal in her underdogdom, and that appeals to the bleeding heart in me. I also like her voice; it's smokey. Simon's take: "not a good performer." I think he's right. She seems to have a quirky personality in there, but it's not coming out when she sings.
3. David Achuletta: I'm a heartless bitch, but I don't like him. He's a kid, a twirp and however big his voice is, he doesn't have the life history to put into his singing. However, there is a resonance in his voice that is just incredible. I keep hearing that he's the frontrunner. Why? Because he's got these chubby cheeks and is a cute little boy? He's the tweeners heartthrob, which makes him a good matchup to Miley Cyrus. Is this what the music world has devolved to: wet dreams for eleven year olds?
4. Michael Johns: I want to like him, but somehow he never comes through for me. He's sorta damp in a moldering kind of way. My notes on him were, and I quote: "Eh." Simon said his perf was a "mess".
5. Brooke White: If I could look like anyone and sound like anyone, it would be her. She's so beautiful in a gangly, fey way, and when she sings, her voice gives me the chills. She's the only one of this lot who I can see up there with Kelly and Carrie. Simon said she was "terrible."
6. David Cook: Another "eh", but in all fairness, I was fiddling with the DVR when he was singing. But that counts, I think, that I thought the DVR was more important than his performance. Also, and you can tell him this, I HATE his hair.
7. Carly Smithson: If you're the sensitive type and/or you like Carly, skip to the next bit, because I am in my Simon Cowell mode here. She sang "Blackbird" and I thought it was a terrible, awful, horrible performance. Her interpretation of extreme emotion is to hunch over, a stance that was ghastly with that red maternity top she was wearing. It had big poufy roses all around the neck, which was not only ghastly (am I using that word too much?) but so incredibly unflattering. It made her look like a turtle who's shell is a tad too tight. And it was sleeveless. Which meant that the big poufy roses were competing with the extravaganza she's got tattooed all over her arm. Bad, bad move. It's one thing to proudly show your tats but (a) we KNOW she's got them, and (b) sometimes less is more, ya know. But I'm not done. In addition to the hunchback, Carly shows extreme emotion (and she was extremely emotional in this song) with three expressions. First, is the pop eyes, which surely is what she'd look like if someone gave her a good goose. Second, is the closed eyes. Third, is the smile which reveals her teeth. Maybe the dentist who came through with caps for Jason guy last year do something about Carly's fangs. Simon's verdict: he didn't like it, said it was "indulgent."
8. Jason Castro: Another "eh". He sang "Michelle" in the most pedestrian manner. Boooorrriinng. Simon said if he'd heard the perf on a radio, he'd have changed the station, but that Jason's "face sold the song."
9. Shyesha Mercado: She sang "Yesterday," a song that can make me cry when McCartney sings it. Not tonight. She said she wanted "to touch everybody the way the song touched" her, back in Middle School. She didn't touch me. It started off too high and her voice got all wispy. Midway though she got better, and Simon said it was "your best perfomance so far." Not for me.
10. Chikezie: There's something very sweet about his face and I want him to do well, but I dunno, not an "eh" but not a bra burner either. Also, when that dentist gets done with Carly, he should do cosmetic surgery on Chikezie's gums, which need to be foreshortened.
11. Ramiele Malubay: Who the hell is styling her? They've got her looking like some Phillipino Cholo girl. The outfit was dreadful, the hat was ridiculous and she was tottering around on shoes that were about as big as her head. She's got a terrific voice, but she was all over the place tonight. She sang "I Should Have Known Better" and it should have sounded better.

Because this is a popularity contest more than a singing contest, I think Kristy, Michael and Chikezie will be in the bottom three. Who goes? Probably Kristy.

Here She Comes...

When I was a kid, watching the Miss America contest was right up there with watching the Oscars. Yeah, it's been a joke all these years since, but I was willing to see if they could actually make it more relevant and contemporary and all those other things that they've been advertising. I watched the Miss America Reality Check where the judges were trying to get the women to lose the makeup and the hair spray--and they did for that show, pretty much. In the ads for the actual contest, you could see that we were supposed to think of Miss America as another American Idol or Dancing With The Stars. But someone forgot to tell the organizers of the state competitions, because by and large what they've put in front of us would be sneered off the stage by the likes of Cowell and Bruno. In the talent competition, there was only ONE contestant that was remotely 21st century. The others were ballet dancers (make that mediocre ballet dancers) opera singers, and a violinist, who wasn't bad but what do I know about violin playing?

I've been live Twittering the finals, so if you want to see my scoop, eyes right:

Cringe: May 17, 2007

Dear Diary,

It is now 2:30, 2:31, 2:32 p.m. and I have spent the better part of today doing sweet fuck-all.

Last night I went to a neighborhood meeting about a shopping mall that They want to build in Elk Grove. I should not have gone. First, because I don't intend to be here long enough to see the damn thing built. But second, and most important, because I HATE GROUP GROPES. I am allergic to them. I get internal hives that make me (a) twitch, and (b) say rude things in just a loud enough voice to annoy (or in some cases amuse) those sitting near me.

Last night's meeting was an exercise in oligarchy. Ostensibly we met to view our concerns about the shopping center. Actually, we were enticed (with promises of individually-wrapped cookies and Macy's gift certificates) to listen to a promotional presentation by GGP, the corporation that is hoping to get their plans for this whizz-bang mall okayed.

It was incredibly boring and incredibly disinformational (is that a word?) and, for me, incredibly maddening. I spent most of the morning trying to write about it in a reasonable manner. Report on the matter, as it were. If I tell you that that post was titled, Democracy Devolves to Dog and Pony Show, you'll get a whiff of why I'm struggling with this.

I hate stupidity. I loathe even more when those in charge assume those not in charge are too stupid to know when they're having a fast one pulled. Rather than an open airing of citizens' thoughts, we had to endure a host of woefully inadequate generalizations. We were told several times that GGP is a "high end mall developer" and is not in the business of building strip malls. I thought I saw Lady Macbeth wafting through the chamber at that one. The presentation was so short of specifics that I thought perhaps Louis, GGP's main guy, was more than a tad unprepared. In fact, were I to grade him, he would have gotten a C in presentation. He waxed eloquent on the "beautiful water features" whatever they might be and assured us more than once how excited GGP is about the project (well, yes, I guess so, since it's a profitable business for them). But his only response to the various issues we had about the project was, "that's what the retailers tell us they want." As in, go ask your mother. No, go ask your father. No, just do as I damn well tell you.

Instead of a democratic give and take, question and answer, We, the People were made to write our questions on a form and hand them in. Then They, the Oligarchs got to cherry-pick and edit, revise and summarize so that the builders could do their own cherry-picking of questions they would answer. That resulted in some breathtaking exchanges, like the response to the question about security. Seeing as we are perched on the edge of the Sacramento's gangland, what considerations have the builders given to mall security. Answer: Security is very important to us. We will hire our security from LA. Oh, good, because LA has such incredible security that they have had no problems with security at their malls. Hell, no. Well, maybe a little. Maybe a lot.

There was also a concern that the retail businesses would post objectionable material on their billboards. Oh, no, we won't allow that. We're very concerned about family values. Here's where my mumble turned to a hiss, "You're going to control Abercombie & Fitch?! Purveyors of the most sexualized and/or controversial ads in the marketplace. Good luck."

My question concerned who did their demographic research that resulted in only second tier retailers like Macy's being willing to come in. Answer: We hired a market research firm in Sacramento. They set up four focus groups, two of those who have lived in EG for over five years and two of those who have lived here for five years and under. Sounds fair enough, doesn't it. Until you consider that the vast majority of those living in Elk Grove fall into the second group. Was that inequity of demographic taken into consideration? Can't answer that one, because the oligarchs chose to edit it out.

I didn't mean to get into this rant. I meant to write a Cringe worthy diatribe against myself at public meetings. But that's not what came out, is it.

I flew out of the meeting to get home in time to see Melinda bounced from AI and my favorite blonde not even make it to the finals of America's Next Top Model. T'was not a good night for me....

For Ryan Seacrest, an Ode...

I was going to do this is pentameter with an ABBA CDDE rhyme scheme, but damned if I can remember what all that shit was about.

I used to know it. I used to know not only the common parts of speech, but those uncommon--and therefore kinda cute. A friend told me the other day that her son could use my help because he was studying metaphors and similes. All I could think--it popped into my head like a blinking neon sign--was FOS. Figures of Speech. And then the next blink: Tropes. Which is what FOS actually are. I kept silent, though, because she's a new friend and I didn't want to scare her away.

So I was going to do my encomium to Ryan Seacrest as an ode. But first I had to Google odes and when I saw all the stuff about meter and rhyme schemes, I was like: Oh, yeah, vaguely, I remember that. It was not unlike the time I had to write an article about orgasm during a multi-year dry (um huh) spell. Oh, yeah, I remember that, vaguely.

Thus, my Ode to Ryan Seacrest has died aborning, and this rather pedantic piece of prose will has to suffice.

In all of the huge keffuffle (now there's a word they taught us in grad school) over American Idol, no one ever mentions Ryan. Other than to quibble with his clothing or the closeness of his shave. The focus in AI is always on the contestants and the judges. Who was good, who should be sent home. Or the relative merits of Randy and Paula as judges compared to the great god Simon.

True, all of these people are elements of what makes AI the success that it is. They are the characters in the drama that is played out each week. But a play takes a playwright and since AI is live and unedited, that dramaturge to a great extent is Ryan Seacrest. His script is minimal; timing and segues are probably all he has in front of him. He's got to take each moment of drama or trauma and make it entertaining. Do you know how hard that it to do? How quick-witted he has to be? How aware of all aspects of the show, past, present and future? How verbally apt and psychodynamically able he has to be?

Take the other night, for example (no, you take it, no you--). I think it happened when Jordin finished singing. Randy has done his "Yo" thing and Paula had clapped her pitty pitty hands when Simon, in full roar, absolutely eviserated Jordin. Not that what he was saying wasn't true. Not that Jordan didn't already know it. But for some reason--and who knows with Simon--he felt the need to grind it in. Take his thumb and really pulverize to a paste.

It was, to say the least, an awkward moment. And that is one of Ryan's tasks--to smooth over the awkward moment. To save the contestant, to make the audience feel comfortable with the tension. He did it this time by making some comment about Simon, that tangentially maybe sortof could be assumed to allude to his girl friend. And Simon smacked back.

He took, as the Brits say, "the hump" and got all "pissy" (as they also say). I'm not going to answer your question, he told Ryan, because you were just rude about my girlfriend. I want you to apologize for insulting her. They got into a bit of a pissing contest what with the no I didn't yes you dids flying back and forth for what seemed like forever. Would Ryan apologize? Would Simon back off? No, and yes.

The easiest thing for Ryan to do would have been to apologize. Everyone could have gone back to breathing and nothing would have been lost. Except for Ryan's ability to control Simon, which is mandatory to the success of the show. Ryan has to humanize Simon for the audience, and he has to do it while not alienating Simon himself. It's a tricky tightrope wire he walks there, and he does it admirably.

Thus, my non-ode. Ryan earns his money, and probably more. The show, without him, would not be AI, as is true, of course, of Simon as well. The contestants will come and go, Paula and Randy may fade away, but Ryan and Simon: without them, AI would be just another amateur hour. Simon gets the accolades for this all the time. Ryan doesn't. So I wanted to say so.