American Idol Review: An “Iconnick” Sinatra Tribute

This week on American Idol, Seacrest seems hell-bent on acknowledging how far we’ve come on this long and winding road called Season Nine by opening with a statistical reminder: “We started with over 100,000 and, this evening, only five remain.” No matter that the vast majority of said 100,000 were delusional, time-wasting gluttons for punishment clamoring for their undeserved 15 minutes of fame. As far as actual, feasible contestants are concerned, I’m with those who feel the competition didn’t remotely begin until Hollywood Week, where the 100,000 initial hopefuls had been drastically reduced to roughly 200 contestants with varying degrees of potential. Of the Hollywood-bound Chosen Ones, 24 emerged with the opportunity to be subjected to America’s vote. Now, with a number of weeks and crushed dreams left in Idol’s wake, we are finally left with the Top Five and a tangible end in sight. This process has been the reliable, systematic approach of Idol’s winning formula for nine seasons now (with a few experimental exceptions along the way), but, as has been noted throughout this particular venture, this year’s search for the next American Idol has felt, to quote Simon, “like swimming in jelly.” I find myself anxiously awaiting the finale not for the suspenseful competition of seasons past (Bo or Carrie? Kris or Adam?), but more for the anticipation to finally have this behemoth over with and behind me once and for all. Personally, while such anomalies as the meteoric trajectory of Lee’s stake in the game are admittedly curiosity piquing, I mentally handed the crown to Crystal weeks ago and have been waiting for her triumphant victory as patiently as possible. With three weeks to go until the definitive showdown, said patience is beginning to wane.

Upon the news that this week’s theme is songs sung by Frank Sinatra under the tutelage of Harry Connick, Jr., I begin to wonder how much of the show’s younger demographic just uttered “Who?” in unintentional unison across the country. As Seacrest strolls down the staircase introducing the contestants, it’s made hilariously clear that the producers wanted the theme to permeate all aspects of the show as Lee, Casey, Aaron and Big Mike all look like they were given outfits from the Rat Pack costume factory. After a parade of pointedly worn skinny ties, vests, and one unfortunately sized fedora (made all the more obvious when combined with Big Mike’s overwhelming stature – FYI, wardrobe department, there’s a reason we call him BIG Mike), Crystal, in a stunning, mermaid-cut evening gown, looks quite lovely and thankfully interrupts the surely inadvertent sartorial parody preceding her appearance. Ol’ Blue Eyes probably hasn’t rolled over in his grave just yet, but we haven’t even gotten to the singing. Seacrest inappropriately refers to Connick as a “superstar,” a term I deem inappropriate not because it isn’t true in the grand scheme of things, but because, again, I envision another auditory stampede of “Who?” reverberating through the atmosphere upon the mention of his name. Kids, to an increasing degree, are the de facto barometers of contemporary fame whether we like it or not. Seacrest must be a Connick fan, evidenced as he allows the guest mentor to utter his trademark line with a dash of southern hospitality: “This. Is Ameruhcuhn Ah-dull.”

After the judges’ introduction, complete with Randy’s incessant booing of Simon (seriously, does anyone find this remotely amusing?) and an alarmingly ample peek at Simon’s chest hair (does he know his shirt is completely unbuttoned?), Seacrest continues his Connick tongue bath, referring to him as a “classic triple threat,” meaning musician, singer, and “accomplished actor of the stage and screen.” Concerning his cinematic accomplishments, I vividly remember him as the creepy serial killer in Copycat, and less fondly as Sandra Bullock’s love interest in the insipid Hope Floats. I was aware he did the soundtrack for When Harry Met Sally, but not that he was only 22 years old at the time, making him a certifiable wunderkind of sorts. He’s also won multiple Grammys and sold 25 million albums, so I suppose I can get behind the Connick-as-superstar notion. However, I still laugh out loud when Seacrest calls him a “modern day renaissance man.” Take it down a notch, eh? Connick explains that his role as this week’s mentor is heftier than we’re used to, since he also composed the arrangements for the contestants’ song choices and will accompany them on stage. Impressive. We next see him working with a complicated-looking musical software setup, exclaiming, “I should be laying by the pool! You think Shania Twain was up in here doing this?” No, sir, I certainly don’t.

Aaron Kelly is all gussied up and ready to kick things off. I assume his slicked, parted hair and buttoned-up crooner’s outfit is meant to increase the maturity of his aesthetic, but the whole effect is more Dickensian orphan than savvy Sinatra. He’s singing “Fly Me to the Moon,” an instantly recognizable ditty from the Sinatra repertoire even the most Auto-Tune groomed kids may have heard. “So this is what happened when Harry met Aaron,” Seacrest says, which makes me chuckle even though I think that reference probably went over the heads of most of the studio and viewing audience. Regardless, things actually get even funnier as the first introductory words out of Connick’s mouth upon sight of Aaron is, “Big Mike!” That’s at least three times I’ve involuntarily laughed out loud so far, and we still have yet to hear any singing. Maybe this won’t be so bad, after all. I then realize I’ve maybe spoken too soon, as Aaron’s hitting bum notes left and right, but manages to retain the trademark eager earnestness of Oliver Twist. There’s one or two successful measures, and Aaron isn’t nearly as lost in the genre as I’d feared he’d be, but Connick and the band have completely upstaged him and I can’t imagine remembering much about this performance once the show is over. In fact, it’s already starting to fade from my short-term memory. He sang “Fly Me to the Moon,” right?

The judges initially take me by surprise as Randy tells Aaron he thinks he did a “really good job,” but admits he was worried how he’d fare given the theme. Ellen jokes with Connick that his accompanying piano was “pitchy,” then praises Aaron for being able to, according to her, adapt to the genre and hide his country-friendly tone. I agree I also heard nary a twang, but that doesn’t mean it was “beautiful,” as Ellen apparently thinks. Kara is a bit more realistic, telling Aaron it “wasn’t as strong as last week,” adding that she thinks he’ll stick around but needs to work on his “charisma” and “fill up the stage more.” Simon succinctly wraps things up by telling Aaron he is the “mouse” to Sinatra’s “lion,” adding that he sensed “no conviction,” but commends his discernible effort. Unless someone else seriously chokes, I predict David Copperfield may have to settle for fifth place. B-

Casey’s next, and he prefaces his performance with an engaging anecdote about a clueless friend who recently called offering him a gig at a local Texas motel that pays 50 bucks and offers a free meal. According to Casey, he calmly explained to his friend he was already busy on Tuesday “playing on national television.” Apparently, Casey isn’t the only one who doesn’t own a television. I wonder if his friend will be truly impressed or duly disgusted when he finds out what Casey’s been up to. During rehearsal, Connick continues to bring the funny, keeping Casey in such stitches he’s having a hard time getting started. “What are you waiting for, a bus?!” Connick mockingly shouts, not helping Casey’s situation. He’s singing “Blue Skies,” and Connick puzzlingly says that, in this case, “it’s not about the lyrics as much … sometimes it’s just about the groove,” which weirdly contradicts an earlier statement he made about Sinatra’s reign as vocal badass being rooted in his ability to “sing the words.” Casey definitely pulls of the Rat Pack look better than Aaron, to say the least, but has a harder time transcending his comfort zone. He’s visually dapper, but sadly, vocally dismal as the performance is really quite uncomfortable to watch. Poor Casey doesn’t know what to do without a guitar, and it shows. He’s stiff and awkward, and can’t figure out how to maneuver his hands and arms without anything to hold. He begins to pull it together towards the end, but the damage has already been done.

While I thought Casey’s singing wasn’t as astoundingly subpar as his stage presence (or lack thereof), Randy calls the whole thing his “worst performance ever,” while Ellen apologetically agrees, saying he had no “swagger.” Kara is glad he finally “held some notes” for longer than “two seconds,” but compares his vibrato to a lamb, even mocking the sound with her own voice. That’s below the belt, if you ask me, but I’m surprised this is the first time the judges have mentioned this aspect of his singing voice – it’s been explicitly present throughout the competition. Simon tells Casey he seemed “embarrassed” to be singing that song, and goes so far as to say, “at least it looks like you’ve got a booking for next week.” That comment doesn’t go over so well with the audience, and Simon unsuccessfully tries to explain he was only kidding. The vibes are so uncomfortable he reminds me of Ricky Gervais in the BBC version of The Office after a particularly painful faux pas. “It’s cold in here, huh?” Seacrest not-so-helpfully offers. Brrr. C

Things pick up a bit after Seacrest says hi to Sir Anthony Hopkins (!) in the audience, and we learn Crystal and her seriously fabulous dress are next. She’s singing “Summer Wind,” and is coy about why it has such personal resonance with her. Connick tries to pry it out of her, but her lips are sealed. Connick likes Crystal’s use of her right to privacy, saying, “The more obscure your references are, the more personal it is to the audience.” I’m not sure that makes any sense, but it doesn’t matter to Connick, Crystal, or me as Connick tells Crystal, “you know what’s happening here.” I’m not worried about her, either, Harry – the girl has been handling herself like a seasoned pro throughout the entirety of the season. The beginning of her performance is subtle – almost inaudibly subtle, as I find myself straining to hear her – but gains ground toward the second half when she hits a full crescendo and ends up making it all look so easy, as usual. Nice. It’s not particularly showy, which puzzles the judges. Randy merely says it was “a little sleepy,” Kara “kind of liked it,” praising her phrasing in particular, while Ellen articulated my exact thoughts, saying Crystal “swallowed every word” at the beginning, but “worked it out” towards the end. Simon tells her she needs to “be in it to win it” at this point in the competition. Calling it “a bit indulgent,” Simon warns Crystal she’s “not singing for [herself] anymore,” and needs to pick stuff that’s going to reliably bring the house down. Duly noted, but Crystal still defends herself, saying that it isn’t a song made for showstopping vocals – it’s a love song intended to be sung “softly” and “sweetly,” which is exactly how she sang it. Touché. B+

Big Mike and his tiny hat are singing the most arguably recognizable song of the evening, “The Way You Look Tonight,” which is a bit ironic considering Mike himself looks a little ridiculous tonight. His Rat Pack costume is the most costumey of them all, and makes it all the more difficult for me to look past his entire schmaltzy shtick and focus on the fact that he really is a pretty good singer. Connick advises Big Mike, via many exchanges of the word “bro,” that he needs to sing this song while thinking “about [his] girl.” Big Mike nods in ardent agreement and closes his eyes to let us know how deeply he’s feeling the lyrics. Ugh. Connick’s loving it, saying, “If he’s lucky enough to find that fleeting moment of truth, there’s nothing anybody can say, because it will have been perfect.” We’ll see about that. In my opinion, Big Mike has the least difficult challenge ahead of him out of everyone, as this genre of music suits his lounge lizard demeanor better than the other contestants’ styles. Indeed, this whole production is right up his alley and he vocally nails it but cannot tone down the smarm to save his life. As Randy would say, Sinatra tunes are clearly in Mike’s “wheelhouse.”

Randy, in fact, basically does say this, but with fewer syllables and far more decibels, shouting such fragmented expressions of glee as “Eyes on Mike!!” His enthusiasm is off the charts, which I find a bit surprising since it sounded like regular ol’ Big Mike to me. “Unbelievable arrangement! Unbelievable vocal! Mike is in it to win it!” Wow, Randy’s all over this. Ellen keeps her cool a bit more, noting Mike’s ease on stage and innate charisma. Kara likes how Mike “took us on a journey,” which confuses me because I definitely haven’t gone anywhere, literally or figuratively. Simon also loved the arrangement, saying, “it all just clicked.” While I agree the performance was certainly good on the surface, deep down I think Mike knows he hasn’t got a shot in hell of winning. His shrieking wife, on the other hand, is clearly still holding on to false hope. B+

Connick lets us know he’s already aware of Lee DeWyze, by informing us that Mrs. Connick apparently thinks he’s “really cute.” Connick then adds that he thinks Lee is actually a “new and improved version” of himself. The resemblance isn’t what I would call uncanny, but Connick’s not exactly grasping at straws, either. In any case, Lee’s clearly having a ball – he’s showcasing more personality in the rehearsal clips than he has in the whole competition up to this point, also calling Connick “cool,” “down to earth,” and “funny,” adjectives we already know have proven themselves as fact. While practicing his rendition of “That’s Life,” I get excited because I think Connick is telling Lee to work on his enunciation: “You need to give a half an hour to that word ‘puppet,’” he begins. However, he explains that he really means for Lee to “give the audience a chance to feel sentiment” by taking his time with the lyrics. Hopefully, better enunciation will prove itself a side effect. Indeed, Lee doesn’t mumble quite as much as usual (thanks, Connick!) and the performance as a whole is successful, particularly because Lee isn’t trying to sound like Frank Sinatra. He sounds like Lee DeWyze singing a Frank Sinatra song, but with more control and confidence than he’s ever shown before. The slight sloppiness of his delivery had been almost an endearing trademark of his, but tonight he looks and sounds much more polished, and the judges couldn’t be more thrilled.

Randy likes how Lee “stayed [his] rocker self,” and notes that he “could hear the guitar” among the jazzy, big band interpretation. Ellen, in her naughtiest quip of the night, complains about being “distracted by Harry’s organ,” but tells Lee that if this had been the final performance of the competition, he would have “just won the whole thing.” Wow. Kara asks Lee point-blank if he thinks he can win, a question to which he obviously answers affirmatively. What did you think he was going to say, Kara? Simon rounds out the raves by telling Lee he “gave 110 percent,” and commends Harry for bringing out his “personality and confidence.” Poor Big Mike is already forgotten about, as Simon declares Lee’s performance “by far the best of the night.” While I didn’t think it matched the unbridled triumph of “Treat Her Like a Lady,” Lee’s growth throughout the competition is undeniable and he’s clearly being groomed for the win. For the first time, I seriously think Crystal may have her work cut out for her. A-

Wednesday’s results show proved as agonizingly drawn out as usual, with Lee being declared safe straight off the bat, leaving the remaining four in limbo for the rest of the hour. Both live performances were startling disappointments, as the comely Connick snoozed through his rendition of the Beatles song, “And I Love Her.” The whole thing was really quite a let down given his resounding success as the contestants’ mentor this week – it’s as though he didn’t follow his own advice. Regardless of Kara’s inexplicable standing ovation (the rest of the judges dutifully followed suit), I found the arrangement so subdued and uninteresting I doubt more than a handful of people in the audience (or in the country, for that matter), even realized it was a Beatles song. Next was Lady GaGa – whom I normally shamelessly adore – singing her new single “Alejandro,” a song that seems to be trying to sound like a rip off of “La Isla Bonita”-era Madonna. The performance was visually impressive but aurally weak, comparable to using headphones with one nonfunctional earpiece. While GaGa is known for her controversial onstage behavior, this pre-taped, edited version certainly toned down her most eyebrow-raising antics. Regardless, I still spotted frantic camerawork clearly trying to keep the frame above her waist. The writhing male dancers, however, were unavoidably captured. Considering Glambertgate at the AMAs earlier this year, I’m pleasantly surprised there hasn’t been more nonsensical outraged hoopla from the same windbags who always get epically upset over this stuff. Finally, after another stupefying Ford commercial and group medley, the remaining four contestants were divided into twos – Crystal and Casey, Mike and Aaron – and Seacrest tried to force Lee into choosing which group was the bottom two. He refused, and Seacrest mercifully, and surprisingly, let him off the hook. Considering the steaming pile Casey left on Tuesday’s stage, I worried his number might have been up. To my (and surely his) relief, Big Mike and Aaron were the ones up for elimination, with the latter being sent back to high school where he belongs. Don’t worry, Aaron, you’ve got the lead in the spring musical in the bag.

Next week, the galactically arrogant but admittedly talented Jamie Foxx will mentor the Top Four as they sing “songs from the cinema.” The good news is, the theme from Armageddon and “Against All Odds” have already been crossed off the list this season, so there are already two more reasons to tune in.

Want another point of view?  Read Dreary Idol Hopefuls Let Connick Steal Show by Inisia Lewis here.

Season 9, Episodes 36 & 37: Top 5 Performance and Results (originally aired May 4&5, 2010)

For more on American Idol, click here.

Photographs courtesy of Fox Broadcasting Company and IMDbPro.