by the TV columnists at The Star-Ledger, Newark, NJ
What’s wrong with ‘American Idol’?
BY ALAN SEPINWALL AND MATT ZOLLER SEITZ
STAR-LEDGER STAFF
All idols have one thing in common: Sooner or later you figure out they’re false. Take “American Idol” (please), the ridiculously popular talent show that was a guilty pleasure in its first season, a pleasure in its second season and now seems merely guilty.
Guilty of what? Pull up a chair; this could take a while.
— Encouraging the worst tendencies in singers: The “Idol” judges don’t reward good singing; they punish it. Performers with pitch, rhythm and a sense of simplicity are treated as second-class citizens. Performers who warble, screech, bellow and caterwaul are rewarded with lavish praise and predictions of greatness.
Look no further than LaToya London, who was the top vote-getter in the third semi-final round after a rendition of “All By Myself” in which she held three off-key glory notes for roughly a half-hour and failed to sing more than 10 percent of the lyrics. She received a standing ovation from judges Randy Jackson and Paula Abdul, while the ever-harsh Simon Cowell suggested that everyone else was now competing for second place.
— Bad planning: At this point in season two, Ruben Studdard and Clay Aiken already seemed like stars in the making. This year, the only contestant people are talking about is William Hung, a kitsch mascot who didn’t make it past the audition round after a historically awful rendition of Ricky Martin’s “She Bangs.”
That speaks to the blandness of the new singers, but also to the fact that Hung has gotten more screen time than some of the finalists. In the audition and Hollywood “workshop” episodes, taped months ago, the producers gave too much attention to contestants they knew wouldn’t make the semifinals, while LaToya didn’t appear until “Idol” had been on for weeks.
Those semifinal groups were so ineptly structured that even charitable viewers had to suspect they were trying to favor certain singers by contrasting them with people who weren’t real competition. How else do you explain that the first and third groups featured five or six singers who were decent or better, while most of the people in the second and fourth groups were lethally bad?
Speaking of conspiracy theories.¤.¤.
— The blatant agenda: The winner of this year’s contest will either be an R&B diva or a teen pop starlet. How do we know this? 1) More than half of the finalists fit one category or the other. 2) The producers arranged for the aforementioned divas and starlets to perform near the start or finish of each episode (the two spots most likely to affect voters); and 3) Because the judges have practically kissed the feet of the singers in those two categories.
Lisa Leuschner, who missed the cut in group two and didn’t even get to sing in the wild card round, was in trouble the minute the judges compared her to original “Idol” champ Kelly Clarkson. Why? Because the “Idol” producers already have a Kelly Clarkson and don’t need another.
While the producers already have a Kelly, a Ruben and a Clay, they could probably use a LaToya, or 16-year-old Hilary Duff type Diana DeGarmo.
— Humiliations galore: As “Idol” advances into its third season, a key part of the show’s strategy has become depressingly clear: Only two kinds of singers get to audition on camera, the gifted and the horrible. If you’re a competent, simple singer unwilling, in some sense, to make a spectacle of yourself, you may as well stay home.
Nobody comes in, sings a song and just does “okay.” According to Simon and company, they’re either the next Whitney or they’re an embarrassment to the human race.
This is simply heartless. The bad singers who got far enough to be eviscerated were led to believe they were actually good — a delusion that is systematically stripped away by the judges’ insults and averted eyes.
And the ritualized hazing didn’t stop with the auditions this year. During last Tuesday’s wild card show, 12 singers who were eliminated during the semifinals were brought back, but only eight were allowed to perform. There was plenty of time for the other four to sing, hear judges’ comments, and even answer audience questions from dim host Ryan Seacrest.
Instead, nearly a half-hour was wasted as all 12 were marched on-stage, one by one, and told their fate in a contrived ritual that suggested a medieval tribunal.
There are so many opportunities for contestants to go down in flames on their own that there was no need for producers to pour kerosene on people whose only sin was showing up and believing in themselves.
— The wit and wisdom of Cowell and Seacrest: Simon Cowell at times sports the wickedest wit on television, best exemplified by his comment to semifinalist John Preator that he belonged in an ice-dancing musical. But for some reason, whenever he starts squabbling with Seacrest, they turn into sixth graders.
Midway through last season, the running gag where each suggested that the other was gay became so crude and played out that the producers ordered them to stop. But the gay jokes are back, along with a queasy racist undertone. On last Wednesday’s show, when Cowell and Seacrest collaborated to make the African-American Huff grovel before Simon and call him “Big Daddy,” “Idol” became the best TV show of 1861.
— Blatantly wasting the audience’s time: Okay, this one’s not new. But after two and a half seasons, those Wednesday results shows have mutated from an irritating indulgence to a flagrant display of contempt for the viewers.
Tonight’s show is two hours, which even with 12 performances is at least a half-hour too long. Tomorrow’s results will be stretched out over an hour. For the sake of your own sanity, record them both and watch them later with a thumb on the fast-forward button.
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All of these flaws have been present in past seasons, but they never seemed this pronounced. Or maybe the best singers are so dull this time that it’s easier to fixate on everything around them.
Either way, the audience has caught on and may be plotting a rebellion.
This season, several finalists were voted through over the judges’ objections, not because they’re musical geniuses, but because they dare to be individuals — which, on “Idol,” amounts to a radical act. And the public has stopped buying everything the judges are selling.
Sixteen-year-old crooner John Stevens can’t hit the high notes. But viewers ate up his unironic renditions of Frank, Dean-o and even Billy Joel, while ignoring the judges’ excessive hype for Leah LaBelle (nee Vladowski), the 18-year-old heiress to alleged Bulgarian pop royalty. (LaBelle is in the finals thanks to a wild card vote from Abdul, but don’t expect her to last.)
But the surest sign of a peasant uprising is the audience’s embrace of wild card winner Jon Peter Lewis.
Lewis, nicknamed “Pen Boy” after Cowell said he dressed like a pen salesman at his audition, obviously didn’t get the memo on what makes an “Idol” winner. He has an odd voice that sounds like a cross between Aaron Neville, Louis Armstrong and Fozzie Bear, doesn’t seem to wash his hair much, and needles Seacrest during the live telecasts.
Yet he’s developed a large fanbase who can’t wait to see what deranged stunt he’ll pull next. His wild card performance of “A Little Less Conversation,” complete with chicken-on-a-hot-plate dance moves, was either a spectacular act of hubris or a major put-on.
After the audience voted him through, the show ended with a triumphantly spastic Lewis showing the other finalists how to dance. A worried Cowell buried his face in his hands, clearly convinced the audience had been seduced by a freak who doesn’t deserve to be the next “Idol.”
We’ll be the judge of that.
Alan Sepinwall and Matt Zoller Seitz are TV critics for The Star-Ledger. They can be reached at alltv@starledger.com.
These reality show contestants need a reality check!
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