The final countdown has officially begun: this night marked the beginning of the end for the mother of all singing competitions, American Idol. (We can all agree that Star Search would be the father, no?) Since I am STILL too old to audition (forget for two seconds that I am also still legally tone-deaf), I have settled once again for reviewing each episode right here each week. And if someone wants to rain confetti down upon me as I post my final review in May while a sappy song plays, with a montage of me typing, I won’t stop them. (I’m just hoping I don’t anger an Idol mama, who will then proceed to blast me in private message on Facebook… again.)
I am a sucker for nostalgia, so I am extremely pumped for this much-hyped “farewell season.” I cry every time I watch the teaser trailer for Fuller House, so I imagine this four month long Idol swan song will get me good.
As the first episode of the last season begins, we are given fake vignettes (I don’t think I’ve ever typed that word before?) of young kids in fake small town homes and diners across America, while watching former Idol contestants being crowned on fake TV screens. We are given a flashback to the premiere episode from June 11, 2002… complete with Brian Dunkleman. (And I will scream robbery from the rooftops if he’s not invited back at some point during the season.) The opening seems a little too forced for me, and not genuine. (Must be the fact that it’s all staged with actors pretending?) I’m already underwhelmed, and it’s not even ten minutes into the episode. Help. We are promised (again) “the best season ever,” and while I won’t hold my breath, I certainly won’t be giving up hope. Ever.
Our first city on the road to Hollywood is Atlanta. The first contestant we meet is 15 year old Michelle Marie from Daytona Beach, FL. She totally reminds me of a watered-down version of Rachel Berry with braces, and if you get that reference, I hope you’ll join me on this ride all season. She is described by her dad as someone who “sparkles and was born in stardust,” and I already love her and her family. She nails the song “Blue” by LeAnn Rimes (shout-out to one of my personal faves), and wows all three judges. Her entire family, decked out in homemade jumbo t-shirts celebrating their star, invade the audition room as Kelly Clarkson’s “Heartbeat Song” plays… and here come the nostalgia goosies I was so hoping for. This is how to begin a final season… with all this heart. A genuine family… with genuine emotion… giving me, as I said, genuine goosies. It’s the first golden ticket of the season!
We get to see the second American Idol winner ever, class of 2003, Ruben Studdard himself on hand for the cattle call auditions. We meet Josiah Siska, an 18 year old from Dacula, GA, who brings his version of a Johnny Cash song straight from the golf course. The real question here is, how low can he go? (Remember, I don’t speak in music notes, so just believe me when I say… he can go totally low.) He’s sent through to Hollywood.
Next we meet our first “Only Call Me by My First Name” of the season, Lindita. She hails from Kosovo, and I do love that American Idol allows contestants from beyond the states. (Let us not forget, as Cher Horowitz once told us, it does not say “RSVP” on the Statue of Liberty.) J.Lo likes that she has soul, and thinks she “sings like a big girl” even though she isn’t. (Although she did inform us she dropped 150 pounds leading up to her audition.) I know this is Season 15 in 2016, and we’ve come a long way since the Idol inception in 2002… but did I just witness the piano player reading his sheet music from a tablet?!? Is that really a thing now? If so, I don’t really think we need to still be referring to it as “sheet” music. Nonetheless, Lindita wows, and is given her golden ticket. (She might need to RSVP to Hollywood, though.)
Enter Billy Bob Evett, who is the spitting image of “Sugar Daddy” Bernardino from the short-lived, much-loved WB show Popular. (Bravo, Ryan Murphy.) He is a 25-year-old honky-tonk lovin’ ball of fun from Punta Gorda, FL. Keith thinks he has a “great heart” but isn’t a “strong enough” singer. Harry claims it’s the closest he’s ever come to almost saying yes to someone with so many pitch problems. And I think it’s nice that Jennifer doesn’t say he “sings like a big boy.”
It’s a family affair for Lee Jean (rhymes with Shawn), a 15 year old from Bluffton, SC. He dedicates his audition to his older brother who passed away in 2012. It’s a moving tribute, set to an Ed Sheeran song, and his entire family is on hand to celebrate his golden ticket victory.
Ryan Seacrest now refers to this as “Chapter 15” of what I am guessing is the great American Idol novel. (Although to be a truly great novel, shouldn’t it have more than 15 chapters? I don’t know. I don’t write novels. Honestly, I don’t even read them. Oops.)
We now find ourselves in Denver, for some mile high auditions. Taylor Hicks (SOUL PATROL!) is now on hand to greet the wannabes, and to offer up some great (unsolicited) harmonica advice. First up in our second city is Jeneve Rose Mitchell, a 15 year old who is “off the grid” on Saddle Mountain. She lives with her family miles from civilization, in a home without electricity. She claims they have a generator, where they fire it up twice a week to watch American Idol. I find her story a little suspect, as Idol only airs one night a week, beginning last season, minus a few occasions. I’m distracted by her performance as a hillbilly-banjo version of Lourde’s “Royals” plays over her intro package. I need that version! It’s a yes from all three judges, and it looks like Jeneve is about to be “on the grid.”
Sonika Vaid (I promise I’m not making these names up), 20, is up next. She comes to us from Martha’s Vineyard, MA, putting to rest the notion in my head that Martha’s Vineyard is a fancy winery owned by Martha Stewart, but an actual place. (The more you know.) I think she is pure, simple and beautiful… and for the first time of the night, I feel like I’m watching someone truly worthy of the golden ticket. I don’t know what haunting song she performed, but I want that one, too.
We are introduced to a 16-year-old boy from Arizona, complete with his own cheer squad, who doesn’t make the cut, and a 24-year-old female police officer from New Mexico who does. (I just realized I’m a little long-winded here, and think maybe I should shorten this up a bit?)
Enter Sylvia Lee Walker, the 16-year-old spitfire from Rayle, GA. I’m going to go ahead and throw this out on the table now: while she isn’t given a Hollywood ticket, I predict she will be co-hosting American Idol with Seacrest in five years when FOX decides to reboot the series. (Three, if the network is really struggling.) My new New Year’s resolution is to memorize her entire intro monologue and to randomly perform it at social gatherings.
Kerry Courtney, a 24 year old from St. Petersburg, FL, wins the night for best tug at the heart strings for a backstory. Having lost his mom to cancer, I already want him to get a golden ticket. When he begins to sing, it turns a little scary and is almost uncomfortable for me to watch. Jenny and Harry both find him “quarky,” and I want to jump through the TV screen and say “Do you mean QUIRKY??” He gets three yeses, and is bound to bring that “quark” to the west coast.
Our final contestant of the night is Shelbie Z, a 23-year-old hairdresser from Alabama. I have to stop right here, and no matter how she sounds, I just can’t let this happen. I will not let the final American Idol be someone with a name like Shelbie Z. Shelbie Zimmerman? Sure. Shelbie Zang?? No problem. Shelbie Z??? I can’t, I’m sorry. All I can think of is the Z-GUYEEZZ from “Rock of Ages,” and I have to draw the line somewhere. Of course, my opinion doesn’t really matter, and Shelbie Z charms her way to Hollywood on the wings of a Carrie Underwood cover. And just like that, I’m doomed. (I’m also dramatic.)
The Kanye West bit might have been funny to me, had I not seen it blasted all over social media for the past week. (That’s a problem the Kelly Clarkson-era of Idol never had to worry about.)
The highlights of the night for me? Jennifer Lopez acting like she had never heard the Kacey Musgraves song “Follow Your Arrow” before (she just lost points in my book), and the judges performing the “Laverne & Shirley” theme song.
Meet me here next time for the San Francisco and Little Rock auditions…
[Photo credit: Michael Becker/FOX]
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