‘American Idol’s’ new challenge: overabundant talent

Talking with another reporter outside the Idoldome after the execution of David Hernandez, we shared the sense that capturing the life there this year is already much harder than it was last year -- when, ironically, the contestants were far less interesting. The problem: Two shows into the Top 12 competition, the contestants seem completely at home on Idol’s big stage. They are almost entirely without the squirmy tensions that fuel the sort of hard-nosed reporting we “American Idol” beat gumshoes live for.

Last year, we in the bleachers watched the spectacle of a dozen very, very young-seeming contestants (they were, in fact, the same ages or older than this year’s group but somehow seemed much younger) awkwardly find their footing on the stage, fumble around, giggle and cry. We studied the aloofness of LaKisha, the maternal role played by Melinda Doolittle, the cool kids clique helmed by Blake Lewis, Chris Richardson and Gina Glocksen. I crafted an entire article studying the body language between Sanjaya and the others, positing that his antics had alienated him from the other contestants (an analysis later adamantly and convincingly denied by the contestants themselves). Week after week, they crumbled before the judges’ critiques and their feelings spilled out over the stage like a tangled ball of exposed nerve endings.

Instead, this year we get a group of talented, confident, more with-it quasi-professionals, who to all appearances seem to get along fine with one another, sitting comfortably, chatting and apparently enjoying the moment while (for many) maintaining edges of cool detachment; bearing up under the elimination-night torments as well as anyone could be expected to. Charming to watch, but where, my colleague and I wondered, would we get the drama to build our pieces around?

The mood on the second night of the Great Season, promised in “Idol” scriptures, remained remarkably buoyant, although for an elimination night it lacked drama. Among those I spoke with in the crowd, there was a broad consensus on who would end up in the bottom three, and that consensus was almost perfectly on the money. It will be a week or two before we begin truly cutting into bone.

Nonetheless, the crowd was as energized as ever, greeting arriving promotional vehicle Jim Carrey with an ovation normally reserved for visiting heads of state or returning “Idol” champions. The energy generated by the newly installed mosh pit showed itself during the group number. Stocked with teenagers at the front, it ensured a constant flow of screams.

And perhaps most significantly, tonight these fledgling poppets got the chance to study close up the raw star power and magnetism exuded by the greatest contestant in “American Idol” history, Miss Katharine McPhee. Those who took careful notes will be certain to benefit from this one more outbreak of McPheever across the Idoldome.

One stunning change in the format did, however, inject a bit of tension into the Dome: the end of the Goodbye Song. It was replaced by the spectacle of each candidate singing as, one by one, they entered the bottom three. The change produced some heightened moments as the singers, moments after learning that their lives were now hanging by a thread -- but still in suspense about the outcome -- were thrown into the deep end, forced to perform and try not to think about Angel of Death Seacrest standing feet away, clearing his throat and straightening his tie as his moment approached. All three stumbled their way through the songs, fighting to maintain focus.

In the past I have written that the Goodbye Song is one of the noblest traditions in our culture -- the moment when in defeat, performers have a chance to rise above their dismal circumstances and transcend through song, showing at their worst moment why they had been given a place on this stage.

There is the built-in problem that the Goodbye Song forces singers to reprise the song that got them kicked off, but there have been many nights when in those final moments of life, the contestant rises up and turns that ill-fated number into one of his or her finest performances ever. I recall Phil Stacey’s Goodbye version of Bon Jovi’s “Blaze of Glory” as one of the most energizing performances of Season 6.

It may prove to inject real drama into these nights. But for me, the noble tradition of the Goodbye Song will always be missed.

As the night came to its bitter close with the ouster of Hernandez, however, this season’s singers seemed determined to maintain their serious but friendly demeanors even in the face of tragedy. Working the stage and talking with the judges who came up to wish him well, Hernandez seemed completely comfortable and at peace with the situation. A little-discussed piece of “Idol” tradition is that for the contestants the big goal is to make not the Top 12 but the top 10, the cutoff line for a place on the tour -- and its accompanying paycheck. But having missed that goal by a mere two slots, Hernandez, seemed all right. Bullet dodgers Kristy Lee Cook and Syesha Mercado both received hugs from friends -- slightly shaken but largely fine. In this all-about-the-talent season, nothing yet has shaken the group from its game.

On this night, even Ramiele didn’t cry.

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