Final 3: Results

Quick and dirty tonight. The Idolettes are singing “Ain’t No Stopping Us Now,” which I think is what Ruben Studdard and Clay Aiken sang to each other during the Season 2 finale, no? Syesha Mercado is wearing an ensemble from the “Eh, Fuck It” collection: A simple white tank top, jeans, and white sneakers. Even her hair is less sassy. She milks her solo parts for all they’re worth, though.

Recap! David Archuleta with his omnipresent outstretched Hand Across America; Syesha “standing there at number three in the competition,” in the prescient and disheartening words of Randy Jackson; David Cook doing a generally awesome job with Robert Flack. Round Two gave us Archuleta massacring Chris Brown, Syesha busting out one of those runway-only bejeweled Victoria’s Secret nighties; Cook being kind of off-key. Round three: Archuleta back in his wheelhouse with Fogelberg; Syesha being thrown off a cliff by Nigel Lythgoe; David Cook getting a full orchestra to back him up on that song about asteroids and love.

Fantasia is here, along with Manic Panic hair and a trio of gam-alicious back-up singers, to sing something, I don’t really know what. She rocks the place with her unabounded joy and passion and screaming, but the most she can wrangle out of Syesha is polite golf clapping. Heh. Back to Fantasia gyrating. This is a woman who ain’t concerned with pretty, and depending on where you fall, that’s either a very good thing or a very bad thing. Some random rapper (probably someone very famous whom I should recognize, were I up on my pop culture as a good little pop culture blogger should be) joins in. he backbeat on this song sounds kind of like M.I.A.’s “Boyz,” which equals instantaneous awesome. There’s a cut to Simon, who has the most dumbfounded expression on his face. Fanty is working on an album and is preparing to tour.

The Jordin Sparks stamp is available for purchase. What, you don’t care? Neither do I.

Ryan brings Archuleta out first, which is how you know he is safe. Oh, Lord, I forgot — this is the night of those insipid hometown visits. In his video, David tells us that he is “stoked and pumped,” but fails to mention “emotionally stunted.” David’s homecoming is attended almost exclusively by middle-school girls, just like you knew it would be. It’s hilarious. He cries, which is touching — to have huge crowds of people come out and support you? That has to be one of the most awesome feelings in the world for a performer. David’s adorable mom and crazy dad travel to his high school with him, where the mayor/stock evil villain declares it David Archuleta Day (or maybe he doesn’t; I’m actually just kind of assuming that happened). Ryan not at all ironically reminds David that’s okay to show human emotion in front of the masses. We run down the performances again, and Ryan asks David what his biggest obstacle was. David does not say “learning to make decisions on my own ever since Daddy was banned from the rehearsal room.” David’s Bad Day/Home/ montage is shown (those damn dolphins!), just in case he doesn’t make it to the finale.

For her hometown visit, Syesha was ferreted back to Sarasota, Florida. And oh look, there’s that annoying guy from Tampa Bay Fox 13 who gives me a splitting headache after each week’s Idol broadcast. Syesha storms through the streets of Sarasota. Cops tell some lady to keep her filthy paws off Syesha. A county commissioner declares it Syesha Mercado Day, and Syesha too is overcome with tears. Her parents seem like nice, humble folks; how they managed to raise such a full-of-BS daughter I don’t know, but hey, maybe her affectation is limited to the stage and she’s a really awesome girl in real life. High school, helicopter rides, natural hair, a crappy performance of “Proud Mary” on a crappy audio system. In the back of her limo, she bawls like crazy, telling us that this is her dream and she’s living it. It’s very, very touching. Syesha, honey, when you speak honestly like that, it’s incredibly refreshing. You don’t need the fakety-fake smiles, the political pandering, the shimmy shimmy shakes — you don’t need all that crap. Just be yourself. Syesha refuses to say that Paula was too hard on her, but Simon says it for her. We get Syesha’s reel, and they flashback to her “Imagine” performance and that gorgeous green BCBG dress (side note — I tried that very dress on today, and it looked sensational, but alas, I didn’t have $400 to plunk down on it).

David Cook came to support his little brother, but producers apparently forced him to audition, which is really weird. The brother comes onstage, looks really uncomfortable, and sits back down again. Hometown time — David Cook also gets a huge reception. At least everyone’s turnout was pretty equal this time; I don’t seem to remember Melinda inspiring that big of a crowd last year, and we don’t even really need to mention a certain L.A. competitor’s pathetic turnout. Cook is the third Idolette to tear up, although they are Manly Tears. The judges have nothing new to add during the recap. Oh, I’d forgotten that David had some obnoxious colors going on in his hair when he first started this whole dog-and-pony show.

And now, the completely unsurprising results. Paula tells the three that “the world will remember every single one of them,” which is a lie. Simon says that he likes the three contestants, and that if he gets the final he’s hoping for, the finale will be “a real hum-dinger.” Okay, when did Simon Cowell become my dad? Anyway. The final two are: David Archuleta (ugh) (and Dadchuleta, you can stop acting like this is all about you any time now) and David Cook. Cook looks numb. Syesha, to her credit, is still smiling, and instead of trying to sound like a Foreign Affairs editor, gives us a simple “thank you.” Aw, Syesha. Sometimes I really liked you, sometimes I hated your bland affectations, but I think we can all agree that you got one hell of a raw deal last night. I look forward to seeing you claw your way to the top, and I wouldn’t object one iota if you managed to take out McPhee along the way.

Final 3: Performances

Ryan tells us that last summer, three people took a chance and auditioned for an obscure little cable-access show they call American Idol: “A high-schooler…” (David Archuleta grins), “an actress…” (Syesha makes a stupid face), “…and a bartender.” (Cook laughs.) Randy has crazy sideburns tonight, Paula’s hair is looking fierce (if not a bit shellacked), and Simon’s hair still looks like a Brillo pad. And good Lord, after seven years, Randy is still booing Simon. Make it stop, please.

The top three come out, looking polished and divalicious. Syesha still has that awful weave and is wearing — brace yourselves for this — a sparkling gold dress. We cut to Murray City, Utah, where the mayor has THE. MOST. AWESOME. MUSTACHE. EVER. It’s some kind of combination of handlebars and whiskers. It’s inhuman. The mayor is wearing an awful star-spangled jacket to compliment Dadchuleta’s awful newsboy cap.

Archuleta starts us off with Paula’s choice — Billy Joel’s “And So It Goes.” He begins the song a cappella, and he’s doing a fairly nice job with it in the beginning, but he completely breaks the emotion toward the end. You don’t song the “…and so will you, I soon suppose” line like it’s your biggest, bestest glory note ever, because it’s a very, very sad line. Do you know sadness, David Archuleta? Or has your father rendered you numb to all emotion? Randy and Paula love it; Simon calls it good, but predictable.

Shill for iTunes. The judges are all drunk. Unlike David Archuleta, who got a whole day named for him, Syesha is in the back of a car somewhere in Tampa when she gets a text message telling her that she will be singing Alicia Keys’ “If I Ain’t Got You,” as selected by Randy. I am telling you guys, I am just bowled over by the unpredictability of these choices tonight! Yawn. It’s a serviceable job; Syesha can’t resist flashing those Katharine McPhee-esque Love me! grins at the camera. It’s a much-improved version over her attempt to do this performance on “The One,” but it’s completely uninspired. Randy disagrees with me, thinking it was “amazing.” Paula applauds Syesha for tackling Alicia and says that she looks “stunning,” but refrains from commenting on the actual performance. Simon says Syesha sang it well, but he slams Randy’s song choice as unoriginal. Heh.

David Cook is on some local television show or something when he gets his text — Simon’s pick for him is “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face.” It is a Gaines-ian arrangement, as I predicted a few posts back, but this is Idol, so he gets stirring violins to make it kind of Neil Diamond-ish. The camera keeps cutting to an attractive, middle-aged woman in the audience, who I’m going to assume is David’s mother, unless it’s the head of his fan club or something. David gives a lovely, understated performance, but Randy manages to make the critique have nothing to do with David and everything to do with some little feud he has to do with Simon, saying that he wished David would have rocked it out more. Simon said it was one of David’s best performances, and I have to agree — it was very reminiscent of when Taylor Hicks sang “You Are So Beautiful. Simple, elegant. Ryan says that their stage manager had tears rolling down her eyes, and then they cut to that woman again, so maybe she’s the stage manager? But then Ryan says that David’s mom was crying, too, and David wishes her a happy Mother’s Day, and they cut back to the same woman, so there you have it, and clearly Idol has hired another technical genius to replace Bruce Gowers.

Kiddies’ choice! Archuleta chose “With You” by Chris Brown, which he gasps and wheezes was incredibly difficult for him to learn. He sings one damn note and the mosh pit goes crazy. Isn’t this a song about sex and women and cars? Why does David — and this arrangement — make it sound like something that would appear on Kidz Bop? Oh, and also, he forgets the lyrics. Twice. I have to say…this is pretty bad. He’s just not pulling this off. He tacks on a stupid run at the end, making things even worse. Randy applauds David’s courage but says that David singing lyrics like “my boo” is about as believable as McPhee rapping about not being able to wait to sleep with some guy at a nightclub. Well, he doesn’t say that, but that’s where it is on the scale, really. Simon also finds the different song choice refreshing, but says that it was a bit like a chihuahua trying to be a tiger, or something to that effect. Yeah, just about.

Syesha.

LAY OFF THE SEQUINS.

Also? A chair has been placed in the center of the stage for Syesha to “work.” She’s sexing up Rickey Minor again, which is just all kinds of weird, and she actually has a great little sexpot act going on (except when she breaks character to flash that stupid “See how great I am?” smile of hers). Generally, her voice sounds great on this, except for the end when she shrieks up an octave. I don’t know, I thought the song fit her range well, and her acting wasn’t as obnoxious as it usually is, but the response from the judges is tepid at best. Randy and Paula offer lukewarm praise of the “you sang it well” variety; both express surprise that she would pick this song. Simon calls it a “lame cabaret act” and expresses disappointment that Syesha would use her one chance to showcase the type of record she’d like to make to choose a fifty-year-old song. Which, I get that point, but how do we know that that’s not the type of record Syesha would like to make? Actually…do we know what kind of a record Syesha would like to make? (Answer: She will record whatever she is told will win her a Grammy). And why even bother asking, since the record she’ll make will be the record Sony/BMG tells her to make?

Straddling the Syesha Chair, Ryan chats with Cook about his personal choice — Switchfoot’s “Dare You To Move.” Which is a nice song, but a little boring. Eh. Okay, I don’t think he’s doing that great on this song, at least not in the beginning. He’s mumbling, and he’s off-pitch. He is also not daring us to move so much as he is daring us to moo. Then he hits the glory chorus, and it gets a little bit better, but he still seems kind of off — he’s sliding flat on all his notes. There’s a red rose tacked to his guitar. Randy loves the song choice, but calls it pitchy. That it was, my friends. Paula — this takes a bit of translation — critiques the arrangement, saying that it didn’t really build until the very end, and then it was over. Simon doesn’t really have much to add; he proclaims the middle round mediocre. Someone in the audience has a “Cougars for Cook” sign. Heh. Somewhere in Alabama, Taylor Hicks sees it and makes a mental note to give David Cook a phone call.

With the producers’ round under way, we are back to classic schlock for David Archuleta — he’s got Dan Fogelberg’s “Longer.” Blech. It’s okay, classic Archuleta, nothing new. Randy says it was “another hot one,” which is a lie. Simon hated the song choice but says that Archie probably did enough to get into the finale.

For Syesha, the producers’ choice is “Hit Me Up,” which is interesting — I thought this was her personal choice, but this makes more sense. SHE IS WEARING ANOTHER SEQUINED OUTFIT, because she is trying to kill me. Ugh, this song is awful. And either Syesha really let Simon’s criticism of “Fever” get to her, or she is royally pissed about having to sing this song, because at some point during the song she says “eh, fuck it,” and stops hitting notes on pitch, and her hip wiggles become really listless, and I even think I see her roll her eyes. Paula says that she’s not sure that this is the song that defines Syesha, and Syesha says “yes,” because really, who wants to be defined by a song about penguins? Simon tells Syesha that she’s never going to top her Sam Cooke moment and that this song isn’t going to get her into the final two. Syesha, this would be a good time for a little backtalk, because you didn’t pick the song! But instead, she just stands there and grins like an idiot. I actually feel kind of bad for her now, because she just got steamrolled badly, and even though I’ve had my issues with her personality, she’s scrapped her way through this entire season, whereas others (coughcoughARCHULETA) have been able to coast through on mediocre performances.

Well, we know that TPTB want David Cook to win this whole shebang, because for him they have chosen “Don’t Wanna Miss a Thing,” which is like Nigel Lythgoe’s perfect musical climax. He even gets an entire half-moon of violinists surrounding him. It’s rough at the beginning, but he works it out at the end. DIANE WARREN is in the audience, waiting to sink her vampire teeth into Cook. Randy is unimpressed, calling it “predictable,” because that is somehow David Cook’s fault. Paula loves it, and Simon declares that Cook wins the night, which yeah, he did.

Recap: Archuleta cannot comprehend love (via Billy Joel) or sex (via Chris Brown), but can comprehend sexlessness (via Dan Fogelberg); Syesha derives energy from sequins, because the less she wears, the more she sucks; and Cook does subtle and understated better than he does, well, David Cook.

Will go home: Syesha, because it has been decreed.
Should go home: Archuleta, for giving us one completely misguided performance, one atrocious one, and one boring one.

Good times.

If I were running the asylum, what would I love to see the Idolettes bang out tonight? Just for fun…

Syesha Mercado
Simon’s choice: “Paper Planes” by M.I.A. We know Syesha likes to move it, move it onstage, and we also know that she’s been pulling out all the stops wardrobe-wise these last few weeks (sequins and minis and boobs, oh my!). And we know that Simon can see right through it. So here’s a challenge — can the undeniably beautiful Syesha adopt the style of the undeniably beautiful M.I.A., ditch her spangly diva wear for oversized hoodies and multi-colored leggings, and bop across the stage? In other words, can she be fierce? Added bonus: M.I.A.’s politically relevant lyrics can satisfy Syesha’s seeming need to give the viewing audience a history lesson every week, thus sparing us all another lecture on how the bravery of the 9/11 rescuers inspire her to give her best onstage every week.

Nigel’s choice: “Against All Odds” by Phil Collins. Syesha is gearing up to spoil Nigel’s dream David vs. David finale, so what better way to knock her out of the running than to foist this demon song (that has tripped up Scott Savol, Katharine McPhee, and even this season’s Ramiele Malubay) upon her? Bwa ha ha ha ha!

Syesha’s choice: “Fame” by Irene Cara. “Remember my name, FAME! I’m gonna live forever, I’ m gonna learn now to fly.” Really, need I say more?

David Cook
Randy’s choice: “Photograph” by Nickelback. Mainly because Randy has zero creativity (or credibility, for that matter). It’s sappy, it’s got a soaring chorus, and hell, it’s probably the only relatively “modern” “rock” song that Randy even knows. Alternate choice: Nickelback’s “If Everyone Cared,” if TPTB decide that Cook needs to go two-against-one to Syesha’s spiel about how her songs are dedicated to the survivors of the Sichuan province earthquake.

Nigel’s choice: “Home” by Daughtry. What better way to promote the heir apparent to the rock gawd throne by having him tackle rock gawd 1.0’s omnipresent hit?

David C.’s choice: “Inside of You” by Infant Sorrow. What better way to pay tribute to Cook’s (apparent) slightly grungy sexuality and unwashed hair than with a little Aldous Snow? Oh, please wear skinny leather pants, David! And of course, there’s always “We’ve Got to Do Something” if Cookie feels the need to go head-to-head against Syesha’s political pandering.

David Archuleta
Paula’s choice: “Colors of the Wind” from Pocahontas. Paula has one lucid, prescient moment this season and picks a Disney song for Archie — after all, where he’s headed, he better learn to master songs that have already been covered by Vanessa Hudgens, no? Plus, colors! Yay!

Nigel’s choice: “I Want to Break Free” by Queen. Now that Nigel has confirmed the banning of Dadchuleta from David’s rehearsals, he wanted to memorialize little David’s newfound independence in song.

David A.’s choice: “Yeah” by Usher feat. Li’l Jon & Ludacris. Free from the clutches of Dadchuleta’s insistence on singing schlock like “When You Believe” and “You’re the Voice” (that “whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh” chorus is going to haunt me until the day I die), li’l Archie rebels by rapping everyone’s favorite lyrics about ladies in the street and freaks in the bed. However, he should still wear ironed jeans and that T-shirt with the little birdies on it.

Final 3: Spoilers and musings.

Spoilers from MJ’s, with a few of my own predictions:

David Cook
Simon chose: “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face” by Roberta Flack
Nigel chose: “Dont’ Wanna Miss a Thing” by Aerosmith (blech)
David C. chose: “The World I Know” by Collective Soul “Dare You to Move” by Switchfoot
Musings: Assuming that Nigel chose wisely, I think this is going to be a great night for Cookie. Simon’s choice of Roberta Flack’s classic (last heard in those stirring yet creepy 4D sonogram commercials) is right up Cook’s alley, in that it’s been covered by about a bajillion artists, leaving Cook plenty of room to browse the ol’ iTunes, lift an arrangement from a better artist, and have Randy rave about his originality and how he’s “in the zone.” It’s also a nice cross-marketing opportunity for Simon, seeing as how his little pet Leona Lewis included the song on her album. So who’s cover work should inspire Cook this week? Elvis has done this song, but not particularly well, in my opinion. So has George Michael, but the arrangement is more Archuleta-like. Then there’s the haunting Johnny Cash version, but really, who wants to be compared to that? If Cook wants to earn points for stepping out of the box (and what better night to do so when you’ve got three chances?), he might do well to adopt this arrangement by Anthony Arizaga — the contrast of the lovely Latin-influenced instrumental with David’s gruff voice would result in some interesting texture indeed. But if I had to put money on it, I’d wager that Cook goes with the Jeffrey Gaines version.

“The World I Know” was a radio hit some years back, if my memory serves me correctly, during the era where it was very popular to splice quasi-rock with classical accompaniment, as if soaring violins automatically add a degree of legitimacy. Eh, maybe, maybe not. The song is quite Goo Goo Dolls-ish, very reminiscent of “Iris,” but then again I tend to think all those songs sound alike anyway, so maybe I don’t know what I’m talking about and, in reality, they are nothing alike at all. But I guess where I come down on this choice is here: really, Cook? The one opportunity you have all season where you pretty much get free reign — the time where you get to choose the song that most embodies who you are and sell that to the audience — and you pick mid-1990s soft rock? Sigh. I see this ending up much like last week’s “Hungry Like the Wolf,” in that it’ll be serviceable, but hardly inspiring. Apparently, David changed his song, swapping out “The World I Know” for the dirge-like “Dare You to Move” by Switchfoot, the crossover Christian band. The song is more modern than the Collective Soul number, and perhaps a bit more well-known. It’s also more along the lines of the kind of music I expected David to make, though I’d prefer he travel a route more like his performance of “Little Sparrow.” Ah well. Oh, and Nigel — “I Don’t Wanna Miss a Thing?” WTF?? This song is soon approaching official “needs to be retired from American Idol forever” territory. And if I’ve got this backwards and this is Cook’s pick for himself, well, then I’ve lost all hope for him.

David Archueta
Paula chose: “And So It Goes” by Billy Joel
Nigel chose: “Longer” by Dan Fogelberg
David A. chose: “With You” by Chris Brown
Musings: “And So It Goes” plays to all of little Archie’s strengths, save perhaps the most important one: selling the emotion behind a song. It’s not something most seventeen-year-olds are good at, which is ultimately what makes Archuleta such a boring competitor in my eyes. “Longer” is more classic Archuleta, sure to please the kid’s base and induce eye-rolling among the rest of us. The more interesting choice here is Chris Brown’s “Without You,” an ultra-current hit. I guess that answers the question of whether Archie, when left to his own devices, favors modern, radio-friendly releases, or whether he prefers sappy, “We Are the World”-type ballads. True, we’re not breaking shocking ground here — “Without You” is bland, inoffensive, and sounds like it could have been released any time within the past fifteen years — but it’ll be interesting, at the very least, to hear little David sing about how he doesn’t need money or cars because he has his best girl by his side, won’t it?

Syesha Mercado
Randy chose: “If I Ain’t Got You”
Nigel chose: “Hit Me Up” by Gia Farrell (!?)
Syesha chose: “Fever” by Peggy Lee
Musings: This won’t be the first time around for Syesha and Alicia Keys; Syesha unimpressively performed “If I Ain’t Got You” during her tenure while competing (surprise, surprise) on ABC’s flop “The One.” Assuming first position atop the piano, Syesha is all Vaseline-toothed smiles and scrunchy faces at the right moments. Acting! You know, Syesha is often compared to other so-called “divas” of seasons past, such as LaKisha Jones, Melinda Doolittle, LaToya London, Trenyce, etc. Aside from the fact that I don’t think it’s kosher to consistently lump all the African American female singers on this show together, Syesha’s strong but whiny voice lacks the raw power that propelled LaKisha’s and Melinda’s vocals or the smooth finesse of LaToya’s singing. She hits the notes…but that’s about it. I will say one thing for Syesha, though — despite her obnoxious pandering, she’s never once acted like she was entitled to win this thing, which I admire. But back to tonight — Syesha could do very well with the Keys song so long as she’s improved upon her shaky past rendition, but on the other hand, Randy could give her another lukewarm critique.

As for “Fever,” well, does anyone doubt why Syesha chose this song? Simple — it’ll allow her to vamp and prance across the stage as has been her wont ever since Andrew Lloyd Webber descended from high and revealed unto Syesha that Broadway is the way to go. Syesha will have to live up to a fabulous performance of this song by Paris Bennett in Season Five, another diminutive singer who has a depth to her voice that Syesha does not. But to the judges — at least to Randy and Paula — sequins and short skirts often compensate for actually hitting notes and conveying emotion. I don’t see Simon being impressed with this one, especially after he raked Sy’s Tina Turner knockoff over the coals. Syesha’s personal choice is “Hit Me Up” by Gia Farrell, a synthesized monstrosity that made it onto the “Happy Feet” soundtrack. Unless she dramatically changes the arrangement, it won’t do much to show off her voice, though it will give her more chances to dance. And it begs the same question as Cook’s song choice: is this really the kind of music Syesha wants to make? I mean, it’s not like I expected the girl to have impeccable musical taste or anything like that, but going with something that sounds like a rejected cut from Ashley Tisdale’s album is surprising.

Top 4: Results

Oh, results. We need a good fourth-place shocker boot this year, don’t we? And the only ones that would fit that bill would be David Archuleta and David Cook. Well, it ain’t gonna be Archie, because after rambling incoherently in response to Ryan’s rather simple questions, he gets sent off to the couch of safety.

Something happens involving dolphins and makeovers and a Cirque du Soleil show. Wouldn’t it be funny if dolphins got makeovers and performed next week on American Idol? It’d be more exciting to say the least. David Archuleta’s makeover almost makes him look like an adult. David Cook moans and groans about getting a manicure. Syesha is wearing an ugly green dress, and her natural hair is back, but it’s parted all weird. Meh.

David Cook is quickly sent to safety, which means that there will be no shocking boot this season. Yay, because based on performances those two deserve to be in the final three, but boo, because I like my drama. Jason Castro is the one who deserves to go (seriously — I like the kid a lot, and I think it’s rather obvious that he sees right through this show and has had quite enough of it, which is cool, but it’s definitely his time to go), and even though Syesha had a decent night last night (relatively speaking, anyway), she’s hit the seal so many times that her departure wouldn’t be shocking under any circumstances, really. Anyway, Syesha seems to have raided Kristy Lee Cook‘s closet of spangly shirts. Is it just me, or is her tank top on backwards?

Pimpmercial. The Family Cash won’t release “Ring of Fire” for hemmorhoid-relief commercials, but shilling for Ford and the decline of American culture is cool. The final four are all dressed up as matadors. Cook looks smug, Archie is just golly gosh g-g-g-g-grateful to be there, Castro is at least having fun with it, and Syesha think she’s at an America’s Next Top Model shoot. Blah.

The Taylor Hicks postage stamp is introduced and passed over as quickly as can be, just as you knew it would. Didn’t all the other past winners get a full screen to showcase their stamp? Did they get applause? I haven’t been paying attention.

Stupid question time. Emily from Pennsylvania wants to know if David Cook will go out on a date with her. Emily is only 24 but has a full-on smoker’s rasp in her laugh. Some moron in the audience screams “do it!” Cook plays along for a while, but looks tremendously uncomfortable and pissed throughout the entire thing, especially when Emily says that she’ll do whatever David wants. Scary. Sweet Sarah, only 14, wants to know what everyone’s biggest challenge has been. Syesha’s is stage fright (gag, but it might explain her over-reliance on pageant poses, so okay), Archie doesn’t know what his is, and Castro’s is “the brain being dead,” because he’s just given up. Someone else wants to know why Simon hasn’t been knighted by the Queen. “Good point,” Simon snots. Thirteen-year-old Mara wants to know how Syesha feels being the only girl in the top four. I like when the little kids and tweens call in; it’s cute. When you see “76-year-old Margie” flash on the screen, it’s a little weird. Marla makes some comment about Simon being the next James Bond, and Simon turns to the camera to tell “Mr. Broccoli” that he’s available. I’m assuming he didn’t mean this Mr. Broccoli.

Maroon 5 is going to sing now, and I’m going to stab myself in the ears. The lead singer is just…oh, my goodness. He has this shrill little voice, and I remember him making some list of Men You Should Find Sexy, and I almost lost my lunch. I am sure he is a perfectly nice gentleman in real life, but…sorry, but twiggy, pencil-legged little men who wear eyeliner and high heels just aren’t my idea of sexy. But hey, maybe it’s my problem. Anyway, this song sucks. Adam Levine speaks, and his speaking voice is just as high as his singing voice, hee. But as it turns out, he has a sparkly, lovely personality. Oh, I like him. Maybe I jumped the gun on this one. Still not sexy, really, but cute. Witty. Oh, you sneaky little man, you! Ugly suit though. What? I’m feeling like I need to balance out my compliments tonight.

Oh, it is time for Bo Bice! Bo has stopped conditioning his hair, which is great. Remember the last time he performed solo on this show, how shiny his hair was and how tight his pants were and how very, very angry he seemed to be with the whole thing? Good times, those. He’s singing “Witness,” and as far as I can tell, these are the lyrics:

Garble garble garble
Needle deedle do
Garble garble zazzle blurgh
I need a witness
When you talk to me
(twing-twang Peter Frampton machine)
Naudle waumagh nee, naudle waumagh ow
Garble dwabble dwee, garble dwabble dow
I need a witness
When you talk to me
I need a witness, baby
Won’t you set me free

And hey, it’s already better than the coronation song they’re going to foist upon those poor kids, so score one for Bo Bice. He is very sweaty. He’s happy that everyone gets to play instruments this year. Bo pimps his not-so-new album See the Light, which is actually pretty good — far better than the drivel of The Real Thing.

FF through commercials. I think I see Ace Young singing something, but whatever. Bottom two. We run through Castro’s performances, and he makes some stoned comment about shooting a tambourine or something. Recap Syesha’s performance. She’s still friggin’ smiling, but it’s a smile of fear. Jason says that his inexperience is shining through, and Syesha tries to explain that she was emotional because she’s living her dream, and also because of the meaning of the song and how it’s changed because we might have a female president or a black president. Yes, Syesha. I’m sure that’s what you were thinking up there while you were on stage being critiqued on national television! I see Syesha! the Cylon is back — and she’s here to stay, because mighty Jason has finally struck out, and he’s sent packing. He mumbles something about being happy that he doesn’t to sing three songs next week. I think. And he looks really, really happy. Wow. This is the most ecstatic sing-out I have ever seen. Hahahaha. I adore it. So long, Jason Castro! Your time was up, but I’ll miss your smile and your awesome attitude.

Top 4: Performances

FFing through all (well, most) of the filler tonight.

David Cook, who is not my type physically but who definitely looks better the more facial hair he has, treats us all to “Hungry Like the Wolf,” which, rather infamously, is the song that Diane Downs was listening to while she shot her three children. So I don’t know how great of a choice that was. It’s a serviceable version, no bells or whistles, failing to bear the imprimatur of David Cook in the way that his much better performances have. Meh.

The transformation of Syesha Mercado‘s hair — from gorgeous and natural to glossy and weaved — is complete, folks. I’m all for showcasing a variety of coiffures, and if I were on this show you can bet I’d be begging for hair extensions (ick, I hope they didn’t just cut and dye the ones they stuck on Kat McPhee and Haley Scarnato in years past), but eh, I don’t know. Syesha’s natural hair made her unique. She sings “Proud Mary” for her first number, wearing a sensational silver minidress and strutting her stuff onstage, and I can’t really rag on her for the theatricality of it all, because hey, it’s “Proud Mary,” and this is pretty much how it’s done. But the thing about Syesha is that she hasn’t really learned to sing and dance at the same time, so her vocals suffer — bland, empty, screechy. Randy and Simon lick it up, but Simon, like me, is unimpressed.

Why, Jason Castro, why? “I Shot the Sheriff?” Seriously?

Wrapping it up with “Stand By Me” is David Archuleta. I love this song — and I love the movie — and David does a nice job. It’s hilarious how when his eyelids start to flutter, you can read Must! Keep! Eyes! Open! written all over his little scrunched-up face. Well, I liked this just fine. Archuleta just isn’t my cup of tea. He’s this season’s Clay Aiken for me — like Clay, I think he has a truly gifted, one-in-a-million voice, but I’m just never going to be interested in listening to anything he records. Eh. Oh well.

For Round Two, David Cook is giving us “Baba O’Riley” which I have to admit — I’ve never heard before. So I don’t really know if he’s doing anything unique or special to it, but I like it. I almost like everyone tonight. It must be the Benadryl I took an hour ago. Too tired to digest all these performances. I may have to review them later. Whatever. David Cook. He’s fine, the song’s fine, they’re all fine. I kind of hope he wins, though again, I’m never going to listen to anything he records, at least not if he goes down the DaughtryHinderBack route that Sony would inevitably demand of him.

Syesha comes out in a stunning cantaloupe-colored gown, and she’s singing “Change is Gonna Come.” The beginning is typical see! Syesha! act! with the dramatic faces and whatnot. And oh, her eyelids, they are glittery. But then the strangest thing happens. Somehow, at some point, Syesha actually finds an emotional connection with the song. A deep one. She drops the bullshit and just runs with it, letting whatever she’s feeling guide her, and she’s singing freely from her soul, and it’s actually really beautiful, even though I’m still not crazy about the tinny timbre of her voice. And then she ruins it by tacking on a completely unnecessary run of melisma at the end. It’s jarring, and it immediately takes both me and Syesha right out of the beautifully sad world she’d created with most of the song. Ah, the spell, she is broken, and just like that, Syesha is gone and Syesha! is back, stupid smile and all.

But there’s one more Three Faces of Eve moment before the end of the night. During the judging, she completely breaks down. We’re not talking fakety-fake smile-through-the-tears crying; we’re talking real, ugly-faced crying. It’s fantastic, because I’ve spent the last few weeks really disliking Syesha because of her determination to make us all believe that she is a singing Cylon. The moment doesn’t last long, of course; Ryan tries to comfort her onstage, and sensing that this is her cue, Syesha! overtakes Syesha again, spouting some crap about how she researched the song and found out that it was about the civil rights movement and that’s where all the feeling came from. Now, I know that Syesha has a sad backstory, and I respect her just like I respect David Cook for not using it during the Top 12 (even though I hear she exploited it for all it was worth during auditions, and I’ve FFed through half the interview segments this season, so really, what do I know?), but seriously, girl — you can get up there and just say that you were drawing on personal things in your life. You don’t have to read us your diary or anything like that, but still — these brief glances into your surprisingly present humanity are wonderful, especially since you might actually wind up winning this whole thing. At least now that I’ve seen evidence of an internal struggle going on inside her, I dislike her a whole lot less.

After that, Jason Castro sings “Tambourine Man” for what seems like a grand total of six seconds. He blanks on the words. Whatever. It’s Jason, which means it’s Jack Johnson, which means that if you like that sort of thing, this was great. Simon, I think, tells Jason to “unpack [his] suitcase,” and I don’t know if that means that he thinks Jason is safe and should unpack the suitcase that he’d packed in preparation to leave this week, or if it was just Simon screwing up his words again and meaning that Jason should pack his suitcase to go home. Or maybe he said “I’d pack your suitcase.” Not that I really think Jason cares either way.

Archuleta wraps it up with a slowed-down version of “Love Me Tender” (yes, slower than the original, actually), and I don’t really remember anything about it, which probably means that the vocals were great, but that little David was boring. I do remember Randy Jackson slobbering all over it, and I remember seeing Carly Smithson in the audience at some point, the camera pointedly focusing on her non-tattooed arm.

So to recap: Cook being unpredictable by being predictable by being unpredictably boring, but then being awesome; Syesha shimmying across the stage but leaving her vocals on the other side, and then going all man vs. machine, but at least looking stunning the entire way throughout; Jason wondering what the hell he’s gotten himself into, and Archuleta still having the best voice in the competition, but still failing to make me care.

Top 5: Results

Group sing! This group’s inability to harmonize truly is mind-boggling. We’re down to five contestants, and I can’t help but compare their group number to the awesomeness that was Season 5’s Elvis medley. Now that was an amazing moment–Taylor and Katharine and Elliott and Chris all coming together, all sounding fantastic, goofing off together and missing their marks and generally dropping their bullshit personas (well, if you’re not counting McPhee wearing one of her many “Pretty Thing” shirts) for a few minutes to just genuinely have a good time and sing like their lives depended on it. It was one of the best moments of the season, especially in light of the still-persistent rumors that most of the Season 5 contestants secretly hated each other, despite the fact that they all appeared pretty buddy-buddy onstage, and despite the fact that Elliott, Taylor, and Chris all performed together at dive bars during the tour, and Kat McPhee had Kellie Pickler as a bridesmaid in her wedding, and Ace Young wrote songs for Daughtry and all that. Nope, they all totally wanted to slit each other’s throats. But if you buy the rumors, watching that particular performance was akin to peeling an onion — one layer of “oh, they’re all so cute together” revealing another layer of “but they’re so competitive!” on top of “but they totally seem like best friends” on top of “but The Advocate said only two of them were sweet and easy to get along with, while the other two were annoying divas!” And then you started to cry anyway, either because of the sheer beauty of the entire performance or because you realized just how much thought you were investing into American Idol. I’ll leave you to guess whether mine were tears of joy or of sorrow.

But getting back to the actual present, the kids are attempting a Neil Diamond medley. Syesha‘s microphone is strangely turned off for most of it, not that I’m really complaining or anything. She’s wearing an odd little Grecian-style minidress; it’s got one shoulder and is simultaneously slate gray and peach, and it is very short and shows off Syesha’s lovely legs, because she’s onto the game and is pulling out all the stops. You know, I don’t even think Syesha is a real person anymore. I’m convinced that she’s actually Katharine McPhee in a very elaborate Days of our Lives-style disguise. Oh, come on; you know you don’t seriously doubt she’d do it, and besides, being back to traipsing barefoot across the shiny Idol stage has got to be better than wearing a prosthetic pregnant belly alongside Rumer Willis. They do “Brother Love’s Traveling Salvation Show” at the end, which is one of my favorite Neil songs ever, so I wind up happy, even if I still kind of think they all suck in one way or another.

And then Ryan wants to reassure us all that despite whatever you might have read on the Internet this morning, Paula is not being fired, because she is family and they love her, even though she’s really just the cousin that no one likes to talk about, possibly because she’s batshit, possibly because no one’s really sure who her real parents actually are. Paula, for her part, looks eminently grateful in her strange porcelain-doll dress and her even stranger porcelain-doll wig.

Castro, safe. Archuleta, safe. Cook, safe. Brooke and Syesha are called out to the seal, but are never explicitly labeled as the bottom two, which probably doesn’t mean much, but at this point the tinfoil-hat stuff is far more interesting than any of the actual performances. And then Natasha Bedingfield comes out and sings about the sun, looking exactly nothing like she did the last time I saw her, when she was all boho and dancing alongside little cartoon radios. She has straw hair and sad heroin eyes now. I wonder if she and Nelly Furtado ever go out for skim frapps together and compare notes and hair products and their eternal contractual obligations to the underworld.

Neil Diamond sings one of his new songs, “Pretty Amazing Grace.” And it’s awesome. His band’s a little overpowering, and given that Home After Dark is another Rick Rubin production, I’m thinking that the album cut is going to be more restrained. In any event, I like the slight mambo swing of the song. Ryan congratulates Neil for having the energy to still stand on his own two feet, and then we cut to Neil’s mother in the audience, because nice guys like Neil bring their moms places. Ryan asks us why we should all buy Neil’s new album — I’m totally downloading it the minute it drops, by the way — and Neil says “because it’s good,” which rocks. Heh. And then it appears that Simon and Neil have some kind of history together, because neither one seems to like the other very much. Oooh, scandal. One I’m too lazy to Google, though.

Brooke and Syesha hit the seal again. Ryan asks Syesha whether it’s hard choosing what to sing every week; Syesha responds that it is, because usually she doesn’t know the songs. Yes, Syehsa wants us to believe that she didn’t know “I Will Always Love You.” Or “Me and Mrs. Jones.” Or “Saving All My Love For You.” Or “YEsterday.” Oh, just go away. Brooke is already breaking down; she’s sobbing before Ryan even calls her name, and she’s in hysterics before Ruben celebrates her home. Meanwhile, Syesha has placed her hand over her heart in her community-theater way, because she is an actress, and also because she is Katharine. Ryan hands Brooke the mic and tells her “this is gonna be hard.” Oh, thanks, Ryan. She fumbles in the beginning, but looks like she’s getting into the groove, and then my DVR decides it has had quite enough of this. So, your final four — Archuleta, Cook, Castro, and Mercado. I’m partial to Cook vs. Castro when it comes down to the bitter, bitter end.

Top 6 Results

Not much to note about the opening number, really. I guess it’s funny to note how Syesha and, to a lesser extent, David A. manage to know where the camera is at all times, whereas the other contestants are either too caught up in the moment or too petrified (or relieved) that their time in this funhouse is ending. They’re all dressed a lot more casually tonight, too. Carly is back in sleeveless, Syesha looking like hot dog condiments, and Archuleta’s in an ugly T-shirt.

Lord Webber comments that “among” the top six are some very talented kids, which implies that also among them are some untalented singers, which is hilarious.

Recap: Syesha looking dynamite but not wiping that smirk off her damned face; Jason having given up a long time ago; Brooke completely losing it; Archuleta doing absolutely nothing different, but doing it competently; Carly being fun and energetic; and David C. going all Rawk Opera on us.

Time for a chat with Lord Webber, who is asked by Ryan about Brooke’s meltdown. We cut to her a few times, and the look on her face is…discomforting. There is nothing but absolute terror in her eyes. But Webber praises her rehearsal as “flawless,” which seems to ease the tension a bit. ALW manages to get another dig in at Jason, chastising him for not taking any of ALW’s sage advice and again using all his inner restraint to not take off on an old man tangent about the kids these days. Man, I cannot wait to hear what Neil Diamond has to say about this lot next week.

The commercial has the Idols doing a really awful rendition of “Tainted Love,” but the concept is cool — “Take On Me” meets Heroes, with David A. as the comic-book artist and the rest of the gang looking like the cast of The Fifth Element.

Laura Bush looks more and more like Jack Nicholson’s The Joker every day, doesn’t she?

We’ve pared down the group enough to have a bottom two instead of a bottom three. We remember how Randy described David C.’s performance as a “molten hot lava bomb,” which sounds like something I’d buy in the candy aisle of Walgreens, but not necessarily something I’d download off of iTunes. David C. is asked why he sang the song straight this week, and his answer manages to merge his love of Andrew Lloyd Webber and his desire to be unpredictable by being predictable, which makes a lot more sense coming out of his mouth than it does on this blog, I’ll tell you that. Archuleta whimpers something unintelligible, but it doesn’t matter, because both of them are safe. They are sent off to the couch with promises of working with Neil Diamond (yay!). Ryan then tells us that After The Break, we will be treated to a performance by Leona Lewis (…snore).

Rundown of Idol contestants who are now on Broadway. Tamyra Gray in Rent, Clay Aiken in Spamalot (in which he is supposed to be quite good). He has a lot of foundation on, but at least he has about a metric ton less product in his hair than he usually does, so points for that, I guess.

And here we have Leona Lewis. They’re talking all about how she’s the best artist ever in the history of the world, which is funny, because her debut album only sold 200,000 copies here in its first week–not bad, but not great for the money that Sony invested in her, and it’s widely rumored that her disappointing numbers were the last straw for Clive Davis. Well, anyway, I have to say that this is the first time I’ve seen Leona live on anything, and I’m surprised by how…real she looks. I mean, sure, she’s got the Tyra weave goin’ on, and she kind of looks like what you think Jocelyn Wildenstein would have looked like if only she’d stopped one or two surgeries in. But she’s surprisingly curvaceous, and by curvaceous I mean that she’s bottom-heavy and has cankles. She can really sing, too; not that she does much singing of the actual melody of the song — most of that’s synthed, and most of her lovely notes come in the form of Mariah-esque melisma, but whatever. Her singing style consists of a lot of thrusting her chest and stroking the microphone stand, which I’m sure Syesha is studying with the most critical of eyes. But overall, I like her more than I thought I would, even if her song really sucked.

Syesha and Brooke are brought onstage — the yin and the yang; Syesha is all obnoxious winks and eyebrow waggles and babbling about how much fun she had last night because she got to pretend to be someone else, because have you heard? She’s an actress! Brooke says that she probably wouldn’t start over again if she had a second chance, and she apologizes for her habit of talking over the judges. And Brooke…is safe! She’s completely stunned; Syesha attempts to giggle it off, but you can see the what the fuck in her eyes as she takes her place on the stool. And yeah, I’m not a Syesha fan, and if takes an elimination for her to finally get the message that the voters aren’t buying the community theater routine then so be it, but if we’re going on performance alone, it’s Brooke who deserves to be on the stool, not Syesha.

Becky O’Donahue, one of the first Top 24 cuts in season 5, is shilling for Verizon now. Maybe they’ll do a segment one day about Idol alums who ended up in commercials? Oh, I also forgot to mention earlier that you can now buy Fantasia stamps if you’re so inclined. I don’t think the in-house audience is, as this news is met with only the most tepid of applause. I totally can’t wait until they have to pimp the Taylor Hicks stamp…which should be two weeks from now if we follow the schedule.

Syesha is in tears on the stool. It’s sad. But at least it’s real, instead of the coquettish bullshit. Carly’s praise is recapped, as is Jason’s “trainwreck,” in which he “learned a lot about cats.” Carly makes some very honest admissions about how throughout the competition she’s been choosing songs to showcase her technical proficiency, but she hasn’t been showing her personality, which is a nice self-aware moment. But no matter Carly’s spiritual awareness, America don’t care for Jesus Christ Superstar, and Carly hits the seal along with Syesha. Simon pipes up that the voters probably liked Brooke’s humanity and Jason’s charm, despite his awful performance. The two repeat their performances, and I’m grateful to hear Carly’s performance again. She’s royally pissed at the beginning, but she finds her grove about a third of the way through. Syesha is up next, and she immediately assumes Diva Starting Position #1, because unlike Brooke, Syesha’s greatest fear is that we will discover that she IS human, and for whatever reason, she simply cannot have that. She has forced that awful smile on her face for the first half of the song, but then she gets out into the audience and improvises more, and the condescending fake smile becomes a real, genuine smile, and it’s a very nice moment. But being completely honest, I really just don’t like her voice. She’s technically very good, but she has no soul, no depth, no warmth. It’s the shell of a much better singer’s voice, but there’s nothing on the inside. And I think the voters know this, and this, I think, is why despite some very proficient performances, she has failed to connect with her audience.

During her performance, we get a brief cut to what looks like some kind of disagreement between Carly and Ryan. Sadly, it’s far more interesting than anything Syesha is doing.

Randy calls it a “popularity vote” because both girls sang very well last night. I don’t think that Syesha sang well last night; maybe more people agreed with me than I thought. But not enough, apparently, because Carly gets the axe. Now, I know that a lot of people had their problems with Carly. You take a girl who previously had a two-million-dollar recording contract with a major record label, a girl who was promoted to the hilt but whose album still flopped so spectacularly that her story now serves as an example of how the labels can really screw things up, and then you ask America to believe that she just happened to make it through an audition process that is widely known to cast characters, not talent, and there are bound to be some problems. And a lot of people viewed Carly as rather disingenuous about the whole situation. And really, she seemed kind of desperate for a while there, didn’t she? So it’s a shame that just when she started to loosen up, people stopped caring about her. But I wish her good luck, and I hope that her prior failings — which, really, are her label’s prior failings, not hers — don’t hamper her now that she’s gotten this exposure.

Top 6: Why Not?

So Syesha Mercado opens the show with “One Rock ‘N Roll Too Many,” and she herself is rocking a gorgeously elaborate Rome-style hairdo. It even has little snake tendrils on the sides and everything. She’s wearing a skintight red dress that reveals just how disproportionally she’s actually built — from the waist up she’s all woman, but from the waist down she’s all chicken legs. But seriously, she’s a beautiful girl. Naturally, she can’t resist getting all divalicious with this week’s mentor, Andrew Lloyd Webber. Even when she’s supposed to be singing to him, she sings to the camera, because this is Her Moment, and she’s still peeved that you, the viewing audience, didn’t get that it was Her Moment during Dolly Parton week, and c’mon — didn’t she make it perfectly clear? She even darted her eyes coyly at you and smiled a wan little smile that said Here it comes! My moment! The glory note! I’m going to act like it’s a big surprise, even though every single person in this country and probably quite a few people in the developing world could have predicted that I would sing the song in exactly this fashion, and only passably well at that!

Sigh. Can you tell that my patience with Syesha is wearing a bit thin? She comes out, snapping her fingers, and I spot an engagement ring on her finger, which reminds me that the girl actually has a life outside of this show…and kind of a sad backstory, actually; she basically raised her younger siblings while her father battled addiction. But then I remember how her father really didn’t want to talk about his addiction to Idol during auditions, but how Syesha was more than happy to babble on about it, and that tiny arrhythmia of sympathy blips right off the screen. Oh, Syesha. It’s so complicated between you and me.

So she starts singing, and she’s completely off the beat, and there’s some awkwardness as she misses a word or two. But she’s having the time of her life, I’ll give you that, because this is Broadway week and she finally gets to display all her acting!, only this week she gets to call it “personality.” And judging from this performance, Syesha’s “personality” consists of pretending that Rickey Minor is a stage pole at Thee Dollhouse. Unfortunately, while Syesha is channeling the ghost of Kat McPhee‘s late-season desperation, she is neglecting the actual notes of the song. Half of it is off-pitch, her voice isn’t actually all that powerful, and her last glory note is particularly painful. I’m telling you. Go listen to it again, as opposed to watching it. The judges lick it up, telling Syesha that this is her forte and that she is far more comfortable fully embracing this kind of completely rehearsed, affected air than trying to pretend she’s someone else. Syesha is elated.

Jason Castro will be singing “Memory.” What, no “Jellicle Cats?” Incidentally, the first time I heard that song, I thought I heard “Jellico Cats,” and because I am a big ol’ Star Trek geek, my mind immediately conjured up a very strange image of Ronny Cox skulking across the 1707-D bridge in a tie-dyed leotard. Dude, don’t look at me like that, okay? Anyway, Lord Webber has about zero patience for Jason, as he makes clear when he snits to the camera about how he won’t be surprised if Jason walks right out of the rehearsal and ignores everything that Webber told him. It’s a very The Man versus Free Love vibe; you can almost hear the silent “ya damned hippie!” that Webber wants to tack onto the end of every sentence. I love it. Anyway, either Jason did completely disregard everything Lord Webby had to say to him, or Webber gave him some awful advice, because this performance is just not good. Many of the verses are simply too low for him, and the higher notes are so wispy that they make Jack Johnson sound like Pavarotti in comparison. Eh, whatever. The judges are not impressed, and in his usual way, Jason seems not to care one ounce. Which is kind of what makes him cool.

Next up is Brooke White, whose very in-style maxi dress I greatly admire until I notice that the pattern is not an abstract black-and-white motif, but butterflies. Butterflies. Because Brooke is sweetness and sunshine and light, have you not noticed? I hope that if she makes it to next week, she comes out dressed in a Rainbow Brite costume. Just in case the viewers at home haven’t gotten it yet. Then she can whimper another performance, and Murky, Lurky, and Paula can all tiptoe around how brittle she seems, and Brooke’s lower lip will quiver as her sprites flock onto the stage to comfort her, and then she can mount her magical unicorn and ride off the stage. Sigh. I really like Brooke, I do. Of all the singers left, she’s probably the one whose album I’m most likely to buy. And I doubt that she’s really as emotionally fragile as she comes off; honestly, I think her thinness and her frazzled hair magnify that perception.

So anyway, she’s singing “You Must Love Me,” and during rehearsals with Webber it’s obvious that she’s completely missing the point of the song. So he takes her hand in his and explains to her that this song is basically a dying woman’s last plea for love, which when you think about it, pretty accurately describes Brooke’s position in this competition right now. Brooke knows that, of course, and it overcomes her to the point that she can’t get more than three lines into the song without stopping abruptly. She did this once before, but this time it’s extra weird, possibly because now she has the entire band stopping with her, too. She whispers “I’m sorry” so dramatically that for a moment I actually thought she was going to run off the stage. She eventually picks it up again. but she’s lost whatever magic she might have had, and while the performance is certainly better than the last few she’s laid down, it’s not phenomenal. The judges concur.

I barely even notice David Archuleta anymore. Not because he’s a bad singer, although I do think he receives more praise than he deserves. But it’s just always the same with him. He’s never going to sing something that doesn’t sound like the backing music for one of those Sarah McLaughlin ASPCA commercials. But actually, his take on “Think of Me” isn’t awful, and the judges are back to pegging him as the one to beat. Sweet kid, but yawn.

Carly Smithson was going to do “All I Ask of You” until Andrew Lloyd Webber slapped some sense into her and handed her “Jesus Christ Superstar” as he waxed poetic about her “big chest voice.” Hmphf. Also, I never though I’d use the words “Andrew Lloyd Webber,” “waxed,” and “chest” in the same sentence. This is a fun performance; Carly has taken the judges’ advice to heart and has reprogrammed herself, replacing her fatal seriousness with more lightheartedness. And the lightheartedness works, because she really does have a strong voice, and the balance between the two prevents everything from getting too campy (take notes, Mercado). She’s wearing a pretty paisley tee-shirt dress; I would have belted it, myself, because she does have a nice figure that for some reason she’s always draping in maternity clothes and empire waists. The dress she wore at last week’s results show was a step in the right direction, even if it did come from Forever 21. No, it did. I saw it there last week.

But the dress is only half the story, because…what is wrong with Carly’s legs? I mean, I’m only assuming that something is wrong with them, because I don’t think we’ve ever seen them. Have we? She’s always wearing long pants or opaque tights from what I can remember. What’s she trying to hide? More ugly tattoos? Varicose veins? A wooden peg? She has decent legs; she should show them off. If LaKisha can come onstage and wear a denim miniskirt and look great (and get Simon to tell her that she looks great), then so can Carly.

The singing. Again, I like the performance. Fun Carly is definitely more enjoyable to watch than This Is My Last Chance and It’s All Too Palpable Carly. She does get a little strident and shouty at times, but she avoids going way out of her range on the chorus by improvising a little counterpoint, and it works very well, at least in the parts where the backup singers aren’t overpowering her. The judges are happy, if not thrilled, and Fun Carly is giddy; she runs off to the side of the stage and comes back holding a camp-counselor-blue tee-shirt bearing the words “SIMON LIKES ME (this week).” Well, okay, maybe she hasn’t gotten all the desperation out of her system.

David Cook wraps up the show, and I honestly can’t remember anything about his Webber rehearsal. He sings “Music of the Night,” and it’s pretty good, I guess. I’m torn on him. I do think he’s the most creative of the contestants this season, but a good half of that has just been the result of some very astute iTunes browsing (to which he freely admits), so I’m not sure how much credit I can give him for that. The only song he’s done that I’ve flat-out adored was “Little Sparrow”; everything else has been just too Nickelback for my tastes, and we all know how I feel about that. I do think he’s stepped further out of that box than Daughtry, though, so that’s another check in the “pro” column. But then there was the “give back” nonsense on his palm a few weeks ago, which was just silly. But then I’m completely impressed by the way he’s handled the situation with his brother, whom he’s steadfastly refused to pimp out for sympathy votes. So to summarize, when it comes to David Cook, my pendulum is still swinging. And please don’t run any further with that metaphor than the context of this blog entry. I guess the judges are pleased; Simon says something about liking David’s grittier side, which I’m not sure he has in the first place, but eh, what are you gonna do. Also, doesn’t it seem like David Cook sings last just about every other show? He’s never gone first, at least not since the Top 12. That’s very kind of TPTB, making sure that Cook never gets the death spot. How thoughtful of them.

Recap: Syesha relying on at least two of the three gifts that God gave her; Jason punching the clock so he can go back to his dorm room and watch old Jay and Silent Bob skits; Brooke demolecularizing before our very eyes; David A. disproving the Heisenberg uncertainty principle by allowing us to gauge exactly both how technically proficient and how snore-inducing he is at any given moment; Carly beating us senseless with how much fun she likes to have now, but at least doing it while singing really well; and David C. doing something different, kind of. We’ll be saying goodbye to either Jason or Brooke tomorrow, and even though I’d rather it be Syesha, I must say I relish the thought of her vamping through a Neil Diamond song. Muahahahaha.