Chikezie takes being voted off like an adult

A poignant moment occurred Wednesday night in the Idoldome during the ritual execution of much-enjoyed-but-it-was-probably-his-time contestant Chikezie.

On elimination nights, the show pre-tapes one segment, filming about half an hour before the full episode shoots live. The segment includes the viewers’ questions and the guest performer. This week, as we saw, one of the questions went to Chikezie; he was asked if he was single and abashedly answered that, yes, he was very single.

Half an hour later, the contestants having been sent backstage and then brought out again, the show proper began shooting live (to the East Coast, at least). Within moments, Chikezie was placed on an elimination stool awaiting his fate. The doomed contestant tried to put on a brave face and managed moments of mirth with fellow prospective oustee Syesha Mercado. He joked at the break with Carly Smithson and Brooke White, who were “safe,” and thus visiting from a land across the stage that he could only dream of. But despite his efforts, Chikezie seemed serious and grim throughout most of the hour.

Finally, about halfway through the show, the lights went dark in the studio as they aired the pre-taped segment. At the beginning of the segment, preserving the pretense that the show is entirely live in chronological order, Angel of Death Ryan Seacrest announces that they are bringing all the contestants back to the couches for the viewer calls. Thus, an hour later, sitting in the shadows alone with Syesha on the most dangerous stool in show business, Chikezie gazed across the stage at the giant monitor, which showed him a mere hour before sitting on the couch with his comrades, laughing, joking, shyly fending off queries about his romantic life -- a way he would never be again, on a couch that he would never again call home. The segment had been taped but an hour earlier, but in that hour, how different the world had become for the once mighty Chikezie.

However, the moment captured some important factors that ultimately determined the fate of Chikezie. An often captivating and original singer, there was always a serious quality to Chikezie, a commitment, dedication and honest effort that came across as very -- in a word -- adult. In his bashful but straightforward answer to the viewer question, in his grimness while awaiting his fate, in his choice in the first place of a very grown-up song, Chikezie projected the sense of a serious hardworking performer singing sophisticated grown-up songs.

In short, he gave nothing to “Idol’s” most important voting block -- the 15-and-under demographic.

This column has frequently addressed the importance of this group to any candidate’s success. It is possible that a singer could form a coalition not entirely made up of this group, but it is difficult to see a road to victory that does not account for shaving off at least a slice of this demographic. When you see those 14-year-old girls standing in front of the stage screaming for their favorites, know that they will take that hysteria and channel it into dialing 500 times in the two-hour voting frame. No adult demographic can offer that kind of commitment.

As I’ve previously noted, at the beginning of Season 6 the children in the audience were evenly divided among Jordin Sparks, Blake Lewis and Melinda Doolittle -- the candidates who eventually finished first, second and third -- when the youth vote moved massively to Jordin.

This year, the youth vote is united 100% behind one candidate -- The Chosen One, David Archuleta. Which is why the other remaining candidates better start playing to the people who pull the strings in this world, and quick.

Side note: I am continually in awe at how executive producer Nigel Lythgoe -- seven seasons in, and by my calculations 70 results episodes -- is still able to stage these in new ways. Each week, the show takes a full hour to string out one very simple announcement, and each week the show still baffles expectations and manages to defy viewer attempts to predict who is going down.

Even when the answer is entirely predictable, Lythgoe, who is a dancer by training, uses his choreographer’s instinct to create twists and surprises in the journey, whether with the order the contestants are seated on the couches, the groups that come to the center, or, now, the order in which they walk on stage to be sorted by the Angel of Death toward safety or torment.

No other show on television is so constantly aware of our expectations and willing to tease and play with those expectations as openly as “Idol” does in these elimination dances.

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richard.rushfield@latimes.com