American Idol – The contestants aren’t the only ones fighting on Idol
Everybody – everybody – did well last evening. Well … mostly.
All three guys stepped it up and performed swimmingly. And that’s exactly what they’re supposed to do; after all, they are aiming for the crowning achievement of Season 9 of American Idol — The Top Spot.
I still can’t get over the shrill, screechy, whiny, screamy all-over-the-placeness of Adam Lambert. But it is what it is. And was it just me or did he look like a demented elf from the Lord Of The Rings last night, especially during his first performance? I froze his mug on my television set mid-shriek at one point and the result was a possessed Adam staring back at me. Hackles rose at the back of my neck. And then, during his second performance, I swear he was the embodiment of the life-sized toy replica of Santa in The Santa Clause 2. He had that sheeny plastic look and evil smile of the faux Santa in the movie. *brrrrrrrrrr*
But the real fun last night was off stage at the judge’s table. ( It seems there’s always a party there of late.) Last eve, however, it was an arena for a grudge match.
Dancing with the Stars – Cowboy demise
So … we’ll get the “highlight” of the evening out of the way right off the bat: The world’s largest snake sacrificed itself so Samantha Harris had something to wear last evening. Thankfully, we weren’t witness to any of the carnage that must have come about in the fashioning of said dress. Whew.
Look, I don’t know much about dancing. When you put the words “Gene” and “dancing” in the same sentence, I have different ideas then you probably do. Gene Kelly probably pops into your mind, doesn’t he? Me? Well, mine wanders off to Gene Gene, The Dancing Machine from The Gong Show (the terrific Gene Patton). ‘Cause that’s who I gravitate toward.
Krod Mandoon – Of baths and ball sacs
What? We’re up to the Lucky Number 7 spot of Kröd Mändoon and the Flaming Sword of Fire …. and you haven’t yet grabbed a front row seat for this series?
Whassamatta you? Are you so hoidy-toidy you need your comedy handed to you on a silver platter? Do you longingly yearn once more for the exploits of Jim Varney in “Ernest Goes To Jail” instead? Mayhap you’re waiting to spend your hard earned cash on the next “Blue Collar Comedy Tour?” Read the rest of this entry »
American Idol – Paula: I’m Yours
Paula, I’m yours. So much so that I’ve devised my own little pet moniker for you and you alone: Pauler. I know, if I ever got the chance to meet you, you’d fall in love with it, wouldn’t you?
Oh, Pauler: I love the way your eyes glaze over whenever you see a fair face up on stage coaxing you, daring you not to get all wiggly. I love that cute seal flipper-flap of a clap you exult after contestants’ performances. I love the way you whap Simon in plain view of everyone watching when he says something you are obviously in disagreement with. I love the way you shimmy shamelessly right through an entire song when Adam Lambert is whaling away. I love the haltingly stuttered talk you talk in a vain attempt to come up with the right words to say to Danny post-performance. I love the semi-stern look of consternation you share with us when you’re at a loss for anything relevant to utter.
American Idol – It’s down to a boys’ club
Going into the elimination round of the Top Four last evening on American Idol, I had no clue who might be heading out the door.
Well, that’s not entirely true; I knew Adam “Screaming Mimi” Lambert wouldn’t be. He was the only contestant who seemed completely safe based on his performances in both the solo and the duet the night before.
American Idol – The rock edition
Rock and Roll Night was the perfect vehicle for Adam Lambert; he’s made for this genre. And could a more perfect song than Led Zepplin’s “Whole Lotta Love” be a showcase for him? Nope. I don’t think so. He was practically flawless. Even his screaming was needed and necessary. But, but, but … much as it was a staple of the original — it is Led Zepplin, after all — Adam’s upper register was a tad fright wig screechy. Worked for the song, though.
Dancing With The Stars – Fireplugs can dance
There are days when I feel like Dancing With The Stars … and there are days when I do not. Last night wasn’t one of those days.
For me, it seemed there was an excess of huffiness and anxiety from the judges and the contestants alike. I’ven’t seen that much flamboyant gesturing since Queer Eye For The Straight Guy nor that many thunky missteps and stiffness since The Munsters. (There is nothing … nothing, I tell you … anyone is ever going to be able to do to remove the two-by-four they stick in Ty Murray’s back prior to his performances.)
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