I Hate Paula

Tuesday, January 30, 2007

American Idol: The South Will Rise Again Edition

American Idol hits Alabama—with makes Andy all jealous. With his unique musical skills, it’s a sure bet that he missed his shot at fame by not being at the audition (along with the 11,000 actual contestants).

As for me, all the southern accents just made me all giddy. For some reason.

In the beginning: Erica Sky sucks. I mean, seriously, hubba hubba, but damn…

Somebody should have warned her. Repeatedly. With a big, pointy stick if necessary. Because Erica Sky sucks.

And then, who the hell let the four year old in the room? Katie Bernard has one of the strangest, smallest speaking voices I’ve ever heard. She apparently sidestepped puberty on the way to the audition. Her singing, while better, was hardly a treat. If I had a choice, I would have been practicing my “no” voice.

Seems nice enough, though.

Less Random Aside Than it Might Otherwise Seem: Will Hugh Grant ever play someone other than Hugh Grant in a movie? He certainly does himself well—you know, slightly clueless, basically good hearted, almost painfully shallow—but is there anything else to the guy?

At least Tatiana McConnico did well. Nice voice.

Did you see that? Did you see how things went all flaccid when a decent, but not truly great, singer comes on the show? There isn’t quite enough talent to stand out and not enough personality to make her interesting. What the hell is a hypercritical bastard like me supposed to write about moments like that?

Bernard Williams II goes into that same category, although he shows it with a bit extra personality. And Paula was confused: he wasn’t off key.

The forced joviality and terrifying fuzzy clothing of Margaret Fowler brought back the entertainment value of the show (praise the Supreme Being). The fifty-year-old contestant wasn’t as bad as I would have suspected, and, frankly, she was far less irritating than most of the “interesting” contestants that go through the show.

Bravo!

None of which changes the fact that Jamie Lynn Ward’s tale of her mother’s infidelity and her father’s paralysis was one of the more interesting (and sad) stories told on the show. Which interests me not at all. Decent voice, bad song choice (personal opinion), and cute as all get out.

Another one to actually like (at very least on a personal level): Chris Somethingorother. Quick and funny, with a better voice than I expected, I liked this guy. Here’s hoping he stays on the show for a while.

Hair.

A distracting oddity.

I hate Josh Groban.

Not really fond of my own writing style at times, either.

Lakia Hill, whose voice was as bad as any I’ve heard and whose song choice was rendered indecipherable. Hideous, horrific, and something else bad that starts with “h”.

Semi-Random Aside: What this show needs is more cowbell.

Nichole Catzman was better than the judges credited her with and I do hope she tries again. She was at least as good as some of the other crap that they pass through (dig that visual). Her voice wasn’t great—but it probably should have been good enough.

Brandy was another story. She probably deserved even more cruelty than the judges provided. She was determined, but she was also bad.

Rubbish, indeed.

One thing I don’t hate is House. Brilliant show that someone keeps getting better with each show.

Friday, January 26, 2007

Man, I Wish Someone Would Be Mean to Me…

Rosie O’Donnell rewarded the two American Idol-mocked (and, subsequently, internationally feted) gentlemen, Jonathan Jayne and Kenneth Briggs, with a free trip to Disney World. Which is nice for them.

But let’s have a moment of honesty, here. Two young men went on a show where early contestants are often treated pretty cruelly. They were just as bad as might have been expected and, well, the results were entirely predictable. They were treated in a shoddy manner, Simon confirmed his ability to say and do socially stupid things (seriously, he often seems to be as socially tone deaf as he is a good judge of the kind of pop music that sells by the truck load), and the young men left with a little extra crankiness in their lives.

Since, they have been on late night and early morning shows, they have enlisted agents to help them catch their fifteen minutes of fame as profitably as possible, and now they’ve been given a free trip to Disney World. I’m not going to say that they don’t deserve it--who’s to judge?--but I will say that being publicly humiliated seems to have worked out pretty well for them. Profitably, even.

So, let’s let the “poor, little, helpless things” moment pass. The insults weren’t truly injurious, Jonathan and Kenneth have made the best of it, and, still, neither of them can sing a true note.

‘Nuff said.

Read the rest.

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

American Idol, The New York is Sort of Creepy Edition

It’s good that American Idol starts with Ian “The Dancing Queen” Benardo tonight. It restores faith in the value of mocking those desperately in need.

With his idiotically inflated sense of self, rudeness, and stupendous lack of talent, Benardo must be somebody’s idea of a joke. Honestly, he is why I like the mean parts of the show at times: this oddly xenophobic young man really needed the kind of verbal slap that only someone like Simon can provide.

On the other hand, Sarah Burgess needs therapy more than she needs a ticket to Hollywood. Her “daddy doesn’t love me” issues and speed dial tears far outweigh her marginal talent. Which doesn’t make her post audition tears endearing or heartwarming; it makes her more of an object of worried sympathy. Like many of the contestants, she could probably use a few years of growing up before she tries to launch a singing career.

Aside: Maybe Greek singing and dancing competitions are so different from their American competitions that cultural exchange isn’t possible. At least, that’s the polite view of a certain audition this evening…

Which, bad Greek entertainment is a poor way to lead into Ashanti’s desperation play for a trip to Hollywood. Her impressive, melodramatic monolog was certainly long, but just as certainly ineffective. How often do contestants shoot their last shred of dignity away with that kind of a begging performance? Admittedly, most aren’t as earnest or as long-winded, but the belief still seems to be that you can beg your way to Hollywood.

Darling girlfriend notes that the final look that Ashanti gave as she left the room made it seem as if the woman had just broken up with Simon. Which is either funny or disturbing, depending on your point of view.

Hate. Despise. Abhor. Revile. Scorn.

Choose one of the above to describe how I felt about the Paris and Nicole wannabes, Amanda Collucio and Antonella Barba. They both seem shallow and somehow useless to me--empty of depth and emotion. Which might be a job requirement for a unit shifting pop singer these days, I’m not sure.

Which attitude is why I’m not really the target audience for the show; though this blog makes a bit of a hypocrite of me, doesn’t it?

Anyhow, Antonella was the better of the two by far, but damned if the duo aren’t a sign of the creeping mediocrity of American pop music. Or maybe I’m just cranky about the lingering snow and promise of a big, shiny, new storm this weekend.

One of the fun parts of the night was watching Paula courting thoughts of statutory rape when Jenry walked in the room. The darling girlfriend said, as soon as he walked out, that the man is pretty and she could care less how well he sang. Which is nice for Jenry since his audition went well. Decent sound, great packaging.

Aside: Nakia. I can’t take the cheap shot.

Can’t do it. She seemed like one of the nicest people to ever be booted from the show and I’m pretty sure she needed a hug.

Ranting Aside (Really, The Meat of the Thing): Sarah Goldberg’s bad cowgirl outfit was matched by her hilariously poor audition. At least she was honest about her lack of talent. Sadly, she was completely deluded about her vocal-challenged ability to be the next American Idol. Goldberg seems completely convinced that she can wish her way to fame and riches.

All was rescued--in entertainment value, at least--by her post-audition tantrum filled with shrill name-calling.

She considers it rude that the judges went out drinking the night before judging; I think it’s rude that she would waste the time of the judges fully knowing that she didn’t have the talent to sing a single good note. Rude is expecting to be passed through over the people who have worked to learn their craft, who actually know how to sing. Rude is the selfishness that accompanies Sarah’s ego.

Er, this rant has been halted by a full on hubba hubba for Jory Steinberg. Don’t tell my girlfriend, but I’m pretty sure I’m in love (again). Like Jenry (which, that’s funny when you stop and think about it), Jory would come close to skating through on looks alone. Her vocals are on the good side of decent, but that’s enough for Hollywood. Decent sound, great packaging.

Now, returning to the rant, we come to the antithesis of Sarah Goldberg is the militant Porcelina. Not only is she blessed with distinctive vocals, but she has the kind of work ethic that sets her apart from the hordes of Sarah Goldbergs of the world. Instead of wanting and wishing, she knew what she wanted and she worked to get it.

I have an early favorite, even if it is really just based on admiration for her will rather than her vocal skills.

And that’s where I’ll leave it tonight. Others can talk about the precocious and direly immature Rachel Zevita or Chris Richardson and his “interpretated” song. I’m just happy to see someone who put forth more than a just happy thoughts and inflated self-esteem.

Good for Porcelina and good for us.

Monday, January 22, 2007

A Nod of Approval for Simon

I’ve seen a lot about how the American Idol judges crossed the lines of cruelty in those opening shows. People are focusing, particularly, on the young Special Olympics competitor and his “bush baby” compatriot. Well, here’s a dissenting opinion from FoxNew’s writer Mike Straka.

All of you critics who are sooo offended at Simon’s crude honesty are the reason these morons think they can sing in the first place. I sound like a broken record here, but self-esteem cannot be granted.

It has to be earned.

Sadly, these delusional “Idol” wannabes who can’t carry a tune in a bucket are the product of “yes” parents, siblings, teachers and friends who coddle their talentless associates and family members to the point where they think they’re going to be the next “American Idol.”

There is something to be said for the honesty, I agree, but telling a young man that he looks like a “bush baby” is something else entirely. The truth is that the pre-auditions are manipulated to give the show the best mix of reasonably good and humorously bad auditions. So, the obviously bad--like Kenneth and Jonathan--are ushered through simply so that they can be put on display and mocked for our viewing pleasure.

Would it be wrong to ask the judges to show some modicum of sympathy to someone like Jonathan Jayne, who is mildly autistic, when he is shown in for his audition?

Thursday, January 18, 2007

Other, at Least Vaguely, Related Stuff

Seriously, folks, wouldn’t you rather be a Ninja Warrior than an American Idol?

Just wondering.

Anyway, Randy Thomas feels for some of the singers. Randy’s a nice guy. Cruelty doesn’t come naturally to him.

Missy makes the right choice. I’ve never heard her sing, and she might be wonderful, but the odds are against her. Knowing when not to subject yourself to the cruelties of others is a wonderful survival instinct.

From USA Today’s Idol Chatter, comes this:

Reflecting on the long and painful night, I’m with you. Idol really needs to lay off the grotesques and the more seriously delusional hopeless cases. It’s not hard to laugh at some of the untalented singers—the ones like The Hotness or Melissa Stavros, who you know are pretty unflappable, impregnable in their egotism. But some of these others, Nick Zitsmond or even Big Red, and definitely the two buddies, Kenneth and Jonathan—you feel they’re going to be scarred for life, and by expressing any amusement at all, you almost feel complicit in causing their misery. Not a pleasant feeling.

So, Rosie is free to mock pretty much whomever she chooses. She can make little fake Chinese sounds in making fun of an entire nation of people. She can, basically, be bitchy as she wants to be. But when the American Idol take shots at the hapless fools who, fully knowing the potential for public humiliation, come begging a spot in Hollywood, Rosie bares fangs and lets loose.

Maybe I should have named the site “iHateRosie.com.” It would have been a step closer to the truth, anyway.

Wednesday, January 17, 2007

American Idol, 17 January 2007

Night two of American Idol is even better than the first. The good part just keeps getting better with people like Misha and her look-alike mom.

The frizzy-haired duo, with lipstick like spackling, might be the most delightfully wrong thing that has happened to American Idol this year. Do I wish my girlfriend what hot like you? Well, no, I don’t, but thanks for asking. To their credit, Misha and her mother handle her rejection with grace and some sliver of dignity intact; a remarkable feat considering just how bad her audition was.

Somewhat Random Aside: Is American Idol an ingenuous plot to bring out the catty gay man in all of us? Talk about jumping to a potentially offensive stereotype…

Not Nearly So Random Aside: Has Paula embraced a new, drug-free self? If so, will her sobriety last much longer?

The strange voices and even stranger hairdos aren’t surprising in Seattle. I’ve always thought that Seattle is one of the most willfully odd cities in America, and more willing to embrace random acts of pointless rebellion than any other city I’ve visited. Which probably makes some of the willfully odd denizens of, say, Boulder on the defensive.

“No! Damn you, Zombyboy,” they say, “Recognize the focus and attention we put into our carefully prepared Pearl Street Mall panhandling outfits and busking routines.”

I see you, but I also saw that kid in the documentary Hype! Who walked around shoving things up his nose and pretending it was a normal thing. Seattle’s happy embrace of arrogant oddities (they put the “pose” back in “poseur”) was one of the things that made it so gratifying to see two of the best performers be such normal people. Keeping in mind that “best” in this context is setting a mighty low bar to clear, brother-sister pair Sanjaya and Shyamali had lovely voices, chose good songs, and acted like typical siblings.

Adorable.

Now bring back the freak show. Which leads us to a big thanks to Nicholas Zitzmann (good Lord, what a cruel name). The 27 year-old software engineer and saucer-eyed Idol wannabe brought one of the most torturous performances I’ve seen on the show. Speaking of setting a bar, that’s an Olympic level high jump in this company. To be one of the worst, you have to be bad. Donald Trump hairdo bad, if you know what I mean.

The judges were warranted in their brutal response to the massively untalented Zitzmann. We can only hope that their honesty will protect us from any public return-engagement from the awkward young man. If he never sings again, it will be a kindness.

In the later episodes, it is always refreshing to watch the sparring of Simon and Paula. That the two fight over such unremarkable talents as Rudy Cardenas only adds a few giggles to the mix.  Cardenas has the kind of bland style that has done well on the show, though, so it wouldn’t be surprising to see him hanging around for a while.

But in all the fun, and between all the digital venom that can be spilled over the contestants, there is some inherent cruelty to the show. Letting kids like Kenneth Briggs embarrass themselves on TV and then let the cameras linger on their disappointed faces is mean enough. Simon’s “bush baby” comment is just a gratuitous shot at an easy target. Following it up with Jonathan Jayne’s pitiable performance pushes it right into a wincing moment.

And so the last hour of the show passes in a gray blur, the vicious commentary is leaden, and the bad contestants merely pathetic. But that really is American Idol, isn’t it?

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

Just a Little Introduction

To be fair, I don’t actually hate Paula; I just find her banal and irritating. BanalandIrritatingPaula.com isn’t nearly as easy to type as iHatePaula.com, though. Not as catchy.

Soon (very soon) the site’s templates will be updated, pretty pictures will abound, occasional musical antidotes to the American Idol abominations will be offered, and, most importantly, you’ll find regular commentary on the performances and the judges.

Excited, aren’t you?