We can trust ‘Idol’ viewers
Tuesday
Every season’s first “Idol” episode brings a lurch to the stomach. We see 24 unformed rough talents and the question looms heavy in the ether: Is there a Kelly Clarkson among this crowd? Can the next Clay Aiken be hanging over that railing before us?
And at first glance, the answer is generally: absolutely not. There is no way that these wild, untamed beasts of the musical jungles can rise in one song, in one episode, to the stature of the giants of entertainment. That kind of gravitas comes only after an entire season of trials and setbacks and brilliant breakthroughs.
That said, if I were the “Idol” producers after Tuesday night’s first peek at the guys, I would be very concerned.
It’s not just that the guys in their maiden outing were a little rough or nervous. That is to be expected. But more problematic, as a group and individually they seemed utterly lightweight, like mildly pleasant members of third-string boy bands. Only three looked like potential contenders: beat-boxer Blake Lewis, back-up singer Brandon Rogers, and kind of engaging but weird looking Chris Richardson. And none of these looked really ready to go all the way.
One tries to remember one’s feelings on first seeing Elliott Yamin, or the first glance at a Bucky Covington or a Scott Savol of yore. Clearly, they were not at first blush giants waiting to be unleashed on entertainment. But they had something even at the beginning ...
Or is this just the perpetual cry of an aging generation of “Idol” fans: The contestants of my day were true stars, not like these flimflam artists....
Wednesday
It may seem premature to announce this after only one round of performances, but nonetheless it is absolutely -- beyond any possible glimmer of a doubt -- clear that the next American Idol will be female.
Tuesday was the shakiest start in modern memory by the men; so weak it had me conjuring doomsday scenarios for the entire franchise. So woeful were the dudes that just hours after rival network head Jeff Zucker called “Idol” the “most impactful show in the history of television,” I lay awake wondering if the show was being set up for a massive fall triggered by one season’s all-dud lineup.
But then the ladies stepped forward and reminded us what “Idol” is about -- that beyond all the freak-show auditions and judges’ backstage drama, the show still produces these moments when a nobody from nowhere steps forward and sings with the power of the gods and suddenly the earth stops. It happened at least three times on ladies night. The universe as we know it will survive.
One alarming note however: There is the misapprehension infecting many of the contestants, but particularly several of the females -- the name Haley Scarnato springs to mind -- that cockiness and insane, not-yet-remotely-justified-self-confidence can carry you through this competition. Apparently many of this year’s semifinalists have never watched an episode of “American Idol” or they’d know that the “I know I am the next American Idol” attitude is an amusing shtick for the crazy auditionees, and even the novelty contestants who might make it to the final seven.
But when Americans choose who wins, we demand humility. You didn’t hear Taylor Hicks or Carrie Underwood bragging that “No one was going to stop me” or “I’m here to win.”
Hell no. They bashfully stared at their feet and mumbled about how it was just so much fun to be here and what a great experience it had all been and that they couldn’t believe how supportive everyone had been. And that’s how our champion behaves.
Thursday
There is little to renew one’s faith in the wisdom of the American people like the semifinals of “Idol.” In politics we’ll seemingly grant any nincompoop in a suit an all-expenses paid ticket to Washington to fiddle with the gears of power for a decade or so. But when it comes to deciding which contestants are fit to advance to the final 12, our nation speaks with a collective voice to rival Solomon in its wizened sagacity. Only the best will emerge from the semifinal round, on that we can stand proud.
In this first half of the competition, there is bitter work to be done. At first blush, it’s clear that most of these people have no business competing with a straight face for the “Idol” crown. For the next three weeks, voters toss out that other half of the room, four at a time. And what is inspiring is how right we get it. (Actually, the electorate did put its foot in it this week. Nicole Tranquillo was a superstar and her loss is a travesty.)
One of “Idol”’s great ironies is the goodbye song tradition. After being voted off, the vanquished sing one last time. But they are forced to croon the last song they sang, which is to say they re-sing the song that resulted in their elimination.
One of Thursday’s unfortunates, Amy Krebs, demurred when shoved forward for her farewell song, asking, “Can I pick another song?” Remarkably, Ryan Seacrest, seeming to acknowledge the tradition’s awkwardness, made a half-hearted feint toward pretending she had a choice, mumbling to the band, “You want to do the same one from this week. Right, OK.... “
During each goodbye song the camera pans over the rows of contestants whose faces are wet with tears. Even hardened rocker-chick Gina Glocksen’s makeup streaked. The unanswerable question, however, is: How many of those tears are for their fallen comrade and how many are giddy relief at having dodged the bullet?