'Idol' Returns, Now With 100% Less Paula

Well, it’s official. American Idol is back, and everything over the next five months will more or less center around it. Sure, there’ll be diversions, but it’s the same thing every year: endless pontificating about singing and style and commercial viability, leading to gradually intensifying loyalties until lines are drawn in the sand with the blood and tears of a nation’s vicarious dreams, all culminating with a grand finale with which at least half of America will be disappointed. There are good years, there are bad years, but the pattern remains unchanged.
For now, we begin where each season begins: in the humble audition room. Yes, American Idol revved up its search yet again in scenic Boston, home to some of the jankiest accents this side of Mayor Quimby. I must admit that the number of outrageous Masshole accents wasn’t quite as high as I had expected, but then again, maybe that’s because Fox decided to keep all the Southie kids off screen, lest the whole enterprise devolve into some sad musical reinterpretation of The Depaaahted. Don’t you worry though. There were plenty of funny accents on display, and I’m not even talking about Victoria “Posh Spice” Beckham, the guest judge for this episode. Her haughty accent was the least of her concerns. This former pop-star, hailed as a fashion icon by Seacrest, waltzed into the judging room wearing some slapdash shmata on her head that looked like it had been fashioned out of old negligée. As bizarre as this headpiece was, it certainly did not distract from the tomato-red dress she was wearing, making it look as though Posh Spice herself had been dipped in a giant vat of Heinz Ketchup. Part of me wanted to find a giant french fry and dab her with it.
When Posh wasn’t turning heads with her fashion sense, she was sitting quietly at the table, her head seemingly about to roll off her skeletal frame. The poor woman looked not unlike a rejected character concept from The Nightmare Before Christmas, and part of me feared she might suddenly raise her hands up exuberantly and announce that HALLOWEEN WAS FINALLY HERE!!!! If only she had displayed that sort of energy. Instead, Ms. Beckham sat there like a lump, occasionally offering some sweet advice or gentle chirps of approval on all things sartorial. Style is apparently her wheelhouse; although, I’m not sure I’d trust a woman dressed like a tube of marinara sauce.

In general, however, Posh just stared vacantly at all the contestants, rarely ever moved to any genuine emotion. She was a bit put off by the strange Clark Kent dude with the lack of social graces. After he left the room, Posh muttered that he was “hiiiiideously arrogant” — a comment that no doubt left most viewers chuckling with irony. Mostly though, Posh just looked hungry, perhaps lost in regret that her days of munching on scones and Yorkshire pud were behind her.

“Allo!”

Of course, this was all to the detriment of the episode as Posh was ostensibly supposed to be filling the daffy shoes of one Paula Abdul, and as such, she was supposed to bring the heart and the emotion (and perhaps the inarticulateness). She brought none of that though, leaving this first audition episode feeling a bit hollow and cold. Sure, we had Kara, but here’s the thing about Kara. Her role is to bring the bitchy angle. Why? Because she’s kind of a bitch. That’s what I like about her. This was best evidenced by her treatment of that crazy, aforementioned Clark Kent dude, who admittedly was a piece of work, but man, Kara would not shut up about him (Posh, meanwhile, looked like she wanted to hop onto the nearest lorry and drive far, far away).
Point is that without Paula, the experience wasn’t quiiiite the same. But it was still pretty fun. The bigger hurdle for Idol will be figuring out what to do once Simon jumps ship at the end of this season. The man is truly irreplaceable. Many series have tried and failed to produce their own Simons, but as his often withering insults last night proved, he’s really one of a kind. He’s the only “mean judge” in reality TV who knows the balance between caustic attack and bemused indifference. It has yet to be replicated. Not even Simon himself can forge a worthwhile scion (cough, Piers Morgan, cough).
Yes, Idol is headed for an Iceberg, Right Ahead!; so I suppose we should enjoy this last season as much as we can because even if the show continues on for several more years, it truly is the end of a pop cultural era. Hopefully we’ll have a strong batch of contestants to make this final Simon season memorable; although, based on last night’s wannabes (get it, Posh?), I’m not encouraged. Sure, we heard some good voices, but dare me to remember anyone. Dare me!
Okay, you don’t have to dare me because I already jogged my memory anyway for the benefit of this post. However, it did take me a few moments to remember singers. The first one that comes to mind is a big lug of a guy who may or may not have previously auditioned for Jersey Shore. I’m talking, of course, about Amadeo DiRocco. The guy had a big, bubbling personality — and an appetite to match. Actually, I think all of America had an appetite as big as Amadeo’s after seeing the food his mother had prepared in her kitchen. After some festive declarations of “Salute!” we then watched Amadeo belt out a tune so loudly, I thought the picture frames in my living room would crack (which would have been a shame because I bought them on sale from Bed, Bath & Beyond). Subtlety did not seem to be Amadeo’s strong suit, but that’s okay. His personality was great, and as my viewing companions (jash, Michelle Collins) and I all noted, we’d take ten Amadeos over one Michael Sarver any day. Thankfully, Amadeo won over the judges, thus earning himself a trip to Hollywood. To celebrate, he and his buddies all engaged in a mildly homoerotic fit of bouncy semi-frottage that seemed to occur every time he walked out of any door. I’m shocked Posh Spice was still in one piece, what with all those destructive sound waves coming her way. Then again, maybe she did fall apart, only to regenerate seven seconds later, à la Dry Bones from Super Mario Bros.

Similar, yes?

Meanwhile, my friend jash informed me that one of his friends from several years ago would be auditioning, and so we were very excited when the guy finally took the screen. Too bad it was one of the more cringe-worthy moments of the show. I mean, the singing was perfectly fine. But it was the interaction with the judges that had me feeling a touch of concern. I’m talking, of course, about the guy in the green shirt who didn’t know how to be assertive. He was totally charming and nice, but watching him attempt any semblance of gravitas was a bit unsettling. Not saying I’d do much better. In fact, I’d probably devolve into a fit of stutters and light gagging, but for someone aspiring to be a superstar, it was not a particularly shining moment for this contestant. Luckily for him, he was so nice that he earned a golden ticket to Hollywood (even if it was tinged with the gentle hues of pity).
As for noteworthy girls, I can’t say that any blew me away. They were all cut from the typical Idol mold. There was a pretty girl with big lips who looked like a lovely hybrid of Ryan Starr and Jordan Sparks. There was also a cute Portuguese teenager with an even cuter grandma. And then there was a sweet but forgettable girl whose only noteworthy feature was that she had four mentally challenged siblings. Her entire segment felt a bit patronizing and manipulative, and while she had a good voice, let’s be honest — the star power was not there.
Similarly lacking in charisma was the cancer dude, whose name escapes me, but honestly, why even bother with a name if you’re gonna be the cancer dude? The guy gave me a serious case of the blahs, and his facial hair was a bit unsettling. It wasn’t bad, per se, just annoying. Like, overly pretty. If there’s any show in which bad hair (facial or otherwise) can make or break you, it’s Idol, at least as far as I’m concerned. Must we remember Sundance Head and the Brillo pad of doom that sprung forth from his chin?
On that note, I did enjoy the toothy drummer with the broken wrists, but he too could go for a haircut. He probably won’t, however, as his unkempt helmet of hair will undoubtedly become his ill-advised look, but hopefully, some stylist will pose an intervention with him before he steps on stage in Hollywood.
Meanwhile, there was also a tall pyramid of a woman who got up in front of the judges and sang some sort of scat ode to the Wicked Witch of the West, which I appreciated for both its kookiness and its execution. However, she didn’t get much screen time because, let’s face it, she wasn’t nearly as attractive as the aforementioned Ryan Star/Jordan Sparks hybrid, who for the record sang one of the most overused audition songs of all time: “If I Ain’t Got You” by Alicia Keys. Seriously, almost anyone who auditions with Alicia Keys, Stevie Wonder, or Etta James earns my immediate disdain. Creativity, people. CREATIVITY. And when I say creativity, I mean the sort of creativity that goes into creating a swirling boat called CODZILLA. Yes, one of the singers last night worked on a tourist trap of a vessel that would speed around Boston Harbor, perilously verging on the edge of capsizing with every turn. And yes, this seafaring ship was called CODZILLA. You know, because it’s big and powerful like Godzilla, but mindful of the popular local bounty — in this case, cod. Personally, I can’t wait until the inevitable battle with chief competitor BEANTHRA. (And for the record, I’m totally booking a trip on Codzilla next time I’m out that way).
Nevertheless, after two hours, umpteen weather updates, and a few wack jobs, the first episode finally came to a close. I didn’t spot any superstars in the mix. Did you? What did you think about this batch? How is Idol post-Paula? And what did you think of Posh Spice?