American Idol Review: Back in the Saddle

It’s hard to believe it’s that time of year again, but this January the reintroduction of American Idol back to the pop culture realm comes with a bewildering twist. After a spectacularly sucky ninth season, the Powers That Be at Idol headquarters have scrambled to try and erase the memory of Lee DeWyze and the crowning glory of mediocrity his victory delivered to the disgusted masses — myself included. With the departure of crusty Brit Simon Cowell (and his signature egomania) already acknowledged, Ellen DeGeneres wisely jumped ship just in time for Kara DioGuardi to be thrown overboard, leaving the monosyllabic Randy Jackson as Top Dawg at the judges’ table while Idol entered the most vulnerable position of its history.

Wednesday night’s season 10 premiere embellished the limbo that season nine’s disaster wrought upon the Idol franchise, opening with frenzied news clips from such, ahem, journalistic institutions as CNN’s Showbiz Tonight, all speculating about who would fill the empty seats next to The Dawg. Justin Timberlake? P. Diddy? Just to punctuate the melodrama, one reporter actually described Idol’s precarious decision-making process as “full-on panic mode.” Yeah, I’m just clinging to the edge of my seat.

As Seacrest wrangles an arena-sized crowd of screaming fans, he finally introduces the new panel with a kind of majestic overture as though the meaning of life were about to be revealed — to a gaggle of faint-hearted teenagers, of course. The first name is announced after much pomp and circumstance not unlike a trailer for the latest brainless summer blockbuster. Cue the excruciating extended silence and bated breath…RANDY JACKSON. Um, yeah. Yo, we already know you’re here, Dawg. Good thing the suspense didn’t kill me, or I would have missed this crucial piece of groundbreaking information. Eventually, Jennifer Lopez and Steven Tyler strut out in a full-fledged competition between their respective parades of sequins and hair extensions, thus officially unleashing a new era of Idol we’re told is fresher and friendlier in its post-Cowell aftermath. “I love you guys,” J. Lo coos to the hyperventilating audience, and I officially reacquaint my eyeballs with the back of my skull – methinks they’ll have plenty of time to catch up over the next few months.

Idol’s first audition stop is the tragically overexposed Garden State, where unfortunate Jersey Shore parodies and former Idol contestant – and current Broadway sorta-star – Constantine Maroulis are waiting to greet us. J. Lo and Tyler are cool as cucumbers, but poor Randy is already trying to keep up with the popular kids – unsuccessfully, I might add – as he shows up wearing a hipster-lite school uniform, complete with button-down cardigan and thick-framed glasses. Seacrest gets a different vibe from Randy’s getup and calls him “Britney” right to his face and my first involuntary, audible laugh of the season makes a welcome appearance. Idol’s back, folks.

As for the contestants, the first victim is a wide-eyed, wire-haired retread named Rachel Zevita. She got cut within the first 30 seconds or so of season six’s Hollywood Week, yet somehow J. Lo is able to claim with a straight face that she remembers her. “Me and Marc were sitting at home saying, ‘Why didn’t that girl go through?’” she tells a nearly-seizing Rachel. Oh, please. As if the girl couldn’t get any more unremarkable, she sings Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah,” formerly one of the most beautiful songs ever written and now nearly bastardized after years of being butchered on Idol. The judges decide she deserves “one more shot,” again, and send her through to Hollywood…AGAIN. I don’t know about J. Lo, but I’ve forgotten about Rachel already.

Next up is disheveled drawler Caleb Hawley, 25, who charms the dickens out of Steven Tyler and me. He sings the Ray Charles classic “Hallelujah, I Love Her So,” and it’s just so darned cute and catchy Tyler simply can’t help but drum his fingers on the tabletop and stifle his urges to join in. J. Lo thinks he’s “cute,” and Randy apparently still can’t formulate his own opinion and haplessly agrees with his colleagues: Caleb’s going to Hollywood! Good for him.

The competition’s first 15-year-old, a precocious performing arts student named Kenzie Palmer, sings beautifully and gets an A+ from J. Lo, but Tyler and Randy claim they don’t sense any “pizzazz.” Randy then makes Kenzie slide back and forth across the stage to prove she does indeed have the ability to move. Oh, brother. Kenzie eventually ends up with a golden ticket, but J. Lo is incredulous at the guys’ condescending attitude. She’d better get used to it.

With three passes to Hollywood already awarded, it seems about time to introduce the night’s first cringe-worthy contestant. Achille Lovle is a 25-year-old Grace Jones lookalike from the Ivory Coast who thunders her way through a frankly terrifying version of Madonna’s “Dress You Up.” I don’t even recognize the song until she hits the chorus, but by then I’ve already taken refuge in the safety of my Snuggie out of sheer fear; the booming quality of her singing isn’t just bad, it’s truly scary. J. Lo has a hard time saying no, but eventually does, and poor Achille then has to deal with stupid Seacrest asking her how it feels to have been rejected.

21-year-old Puerto Rican dance teacher Tiffany Rios is inexplicably given extra camera time to teach the viewers how to tease their hair, Jersey style. She then explains how her ample cleavage and “nice back area” give her chances a boost, before revealing silver cardboard stars taped to her bikini top. Lord. She’s looked up to J. Lo for inspiration throughout the years, of course, and divulges to the audience that she wants to “make her cry.” Oh, I think that’s a distinct possibility. After rambling through an inane song she “wrote” that explains why the judges should send her through, they try to pretend that didn’t happen by allowing her to sing Celine Dion’s “Power of Love” as a do-over of sorts. It isn’t completely terrible in the vocal sense, but this girl’s stage antics are beyond ridiculous and I’m simply flabbergasted when they actually award her with a golden ticket. Simon would’ve let Seacrest give him a sponge bath before he’d have allowed that to happen. Sigh.

The night’s first sob story comes in the form of Robbie Rosen, a 16-year-old high school student who used to be confined to a wheelchair, but now isn’t. Wonderful. He’s all golly-gee and aw-shucks bashful at first, but then sings like a DREAM and brings the house down. The Beatles’ “Yesterday” might be almost as overdone as “Hallelujah,” but the kid makes it work and even summons a “get down, dude!” from Randy. The judges don’t even bother voting. J. Lo quips, “Hollywood, bye!” and Robbie scampers off to blind someone else with his gleaming, toothsome grin.

Chris Cordeiro is 18 and likely spent a good chunk of his high school years stuffed in a locker, as he actually chooses to admit his allegiance to the Boy Scouts on national television and air a PSA he produced about the dangers of texting and driving for his Eagle Scout project. He wears his uniform without abandon in the video and shows up for his Idol audition with a fishing hat and most unfortunate bangs, the latter of which tickle Tyler to no end. Poor kid. Just when things can’t get any worse for Chris, he groans and snaps his way through Sinatra’s “My Way” and insists he finish because the chorus is the part where he can really bring it home. The judges are simply stupefied, as am I. Bye, Chris.

Another delusional soul – this one allows the cameras to catch him belching out his nerves  – is next and delivers a version of “Proud Mary” that could have blasted Noriega out of hiding. Perhaps the military has already detained him for future use.

Ashley Sullivan is from Massachusetts, works at the mall and worships Britney Spears. She also smacks her gum, inserts “like” and “you know” into every sentence and has never visited anywhere outside New England. She is also TWENTY-FIVE, officially making her the world’s oldest teenager. Her energy is erratic and confusing, and she is simply too strange to be considered a normal kind of annoying. Her audition is actually better than I’d feared but undoubtedly wrong for Idol, and she proceeds to get on her knees and beg for a pass to Hollywood. BEG. Tears and all. And guess what? IT WORKS.

Southern belle Victoria Huggins is 16-and-three-quarters years old (seriously) and displays the kind of persona so irritating I actually want to smack the smirk right off of her face. She’s undoubtedly a pageant kid and carries around a life-size cardboard cutout of herself. Victoria has also documented every stage of the audition process, including sing-a-long videos in the car with her Scary Stage Mom. She sings “Midnight Train to Georgia” with calculated precision, and wins the judges over with a sickening “Yo, yo, dawg” to Randy that reeks of cloying desperation. She might be around for a while, I’m afraid.

Kosovo immigrant Melinda Ademi has a genuinely interesting backstory and genuinely pleasant voice, and she quietly gets sent through with heartstring-tugging fanfare from her adorable, former war refugee parents.

Devyn Rush works at a diner in Times Square where the servers sing and sling plates, sometimes simultaneously. The judges give her a hard time about her clothes, but I’m frankly relieved to see a talented 20-year-old in jeans and a t-shirt. Would they rather she tape stars to her nipples? Sheesh.

Yoji “Pop” Asano embarrasses himself by warbling through a version of Miley Cyrus’ “Party in the U.S.A.” that calls back to the Idol of yore where every other audition was a joke on this cartoonish level. Pretty sweet dance moves, though.

Staten Island darling Brielle Von Hugel brings her cancer survivor dad into the audition with her. Gee, I wonder if she’s going to get sent through?

The final audition in New Jersey is a young fellow by the name of Travis Orlando who almost seems to be trying to look like recent chart-topper Bruno Mars. Travis’s family has been through rough times living in poverty in the Bronx, but for a poor kid, he’s got some suspiciously nice clothes — I know I didn’t wear designer jeans when I was 16. He offers a perfectly pleasant version of “Eleanor Rigby,” then a self-admittedly “typical” rendition of Jason Mraz’s “I’m Yours.” Travis is quite adorable and will sail through Hollywood Week without fail, I predict.

All in all, 51 people were handed a coveted golden ticket as the judges made their way south to New Orleans for the second round of judging. We’re treated to stock footage of Seacrest flubbing his lines in the Big Easy four years ago, and sad sack Blake Patterson having a post-rejection meltdown – we aren’t even subjected to the horror of his audition, so it must have been baaaaaad.

Vocal and piano teacher Jordan Dorsey gets things started off right as he delivers a version of “Over the Rainbow” that gives J. Lo “goose pimples.” Outside, Jordan’s grandma is teasing Seacrest for looking taller on TV – heh!

Pillow-lipped Sarah Sellers piques Tyler’s interest for painfully obvious reasons, but catches my eye for being a discernible adult. She talks, acts, looks and seems….like a normal person. Turns out she’s a 28-year-old “marketing analyst by day, aspiring singer and blogger by night.” Sarah doesn’t know it yet, but she and I are already friends. She sings Bob Dylan’s “To Make You Feel My Love,” and while I’m not blown away, it’s good enough for me to decide I’m really rooting for Sarah in Hollywood. After her display of casual poise and maturity, I can’t believe the hyper-childish Ashley Sullivan is only three years younger.

Jovany Baretto has a thing for Marc Anthony (!) and chooses to utilize his admiration by singing his audition in Spanish. He’s all right in a karaoke sense, but I can’t imagine him on my TV week after week. His proverbial 15 minutes peak by the time Tyler and Randy join him to take their shirts off for a perplexed J. Lo, and I decide it’s definitely time for a bathroom break.

Jacquelyn Dupree’s uncle was Randy’s high school football coach, and she slyly brings old yearbook pictures and newspaper clippings of The Dawg to her audition. Slick. Her version of “I’ll Stand By You” is just great, thankfully, and makes her extraneous efforts far less sickening than they would have been otherwise.

Carrot-topped Brett Lowenstern is pale, freckled, gangly, awkward and artistic; therefore, high school is a living nightmare for him. Fortunately, he’s about to get the last laugh as his killer rendition of “Bohemian Rhapsody” leaves the judges – Tyler in particular – awestruck. Brett describes himself as “a red apple in a pile of green apples,” and I suspect he may feel no different in Hollywood, except now his uniqueness will be celebrated rather than vilified. He’s officially on my short list of favorites.

The second 15-year-old of the week is Baton Rouge native Jacee Badeaux, whose astounding version of Otis Redding’s “(Sittin’ On) the Dock of the Bay” would have likely garnered him a record deal even if he’d simply posted it on YouTube. His calm, collected demeanor insinuates maturity beyond his years in spite of his chubby-cheeked image. The judges marvel at the “sparkle in [his] eyes” (okay, barf) and rightfully send him through to Hollywood.

The final audition for New Orleans is yet another sob story, but Paris Tassin, 23, has the goods to back it up. Paris has a five-year-old special needs daughter and sings Carrie Underwood’s “Temporary Home” with the simple explanation that it “has meaning.” J. Lo pulls a Kara (and a Paula, frankly) and starts crying in the midst of Paris’s admittedly killer audition, and even approaches her afterward to wish her luck in Hollywood.

With 37 Idol hopefuls sent through to Hollywood after the New Orleans auditions, next week picks up in Milwaukee where my fellow Wisconsinites will likely prove they can embarrass themselves on national television just as well as everyone else. American Idol’s tenth season is off to a rollicking start, and the makeover isn’t as jarring as I’d expected. Jennifer Lopez fills the empathetic female role far more glamorously and credibly than either Paula or Kara did, and Steven Tyler is proving to be perfectly substantial comic relief even in the face of his blatantly pervy remarks to underage admirers. “Where’s your pitchfork, you little devil?” is perhaps my favorite remark of his thus far, and hearing it from a genuine rock star, as opposed to, say, a sarcastic British record executive, makes the inappropriateness somehow more acceptable. Although there were plenty of costumed losers leering for the camera to remind us of what show we were watching, the feel of this brand-new Idol did have a distinctly, well, nicer tone to it, focusing more on “serious” contenders than the masochistic jokesters. I’m afraid, however, the lack of Simon’s iron fist has resulted in undeserved golden tickets, enabling such trainwrecks as Tiffany Rios to further pollute our airwaves. Here’s hoping the road to Hollywood will narrow itself from here on out.

Do you miss Simon’s eye-rolling bluntness? Does Steven Tyler gross you out? Do you wonder if Randy has any friends? Post your comments below to discuss whether Idol is new and improved, or already past its prime.

Need more Idol? Read “Idol Opens Season 10 with a Fresh New Look … Sort of.” by Kelley Lynn.

Season 10, Episodes 1 and 2: Auditions #1 and #2 (originally aired January 19 and 20, 2011)

Don’t miss American Idol Wednesdays and Thursdays, 8/7c on FOX.

Photographs courtesy of Fox Broadcasting Company and IMBbPro.

Follow Poptimal on Twitter!