I’m a late convert to American Idol. The official VM wife had been extolling the program’s vices for a while, but I never gave it a shot until this season. It’s turned out to be pretty darned entertaining, especially with Dave White’s commentary over at The Advocate (so my wife reads The Advocate; is that so wrong?). And the Spoonbender’s preview is always a hoot.
I discovered that nothing can match the lunacy and self-delusion of the first few weeks of auditions, when clueless people try to sing their way onto the show. My boss thinks I’m a bad person for enjoying these so much, but I figure, “You sign your waiver, you take your chances.”
Anyway, the season’s been pretty enjoyable, but it started to slow down in the last few weeks, as more of the novelty acts got voted off the show. (Sure, there was the train wreck of a night where the contestants had to perform songs by Queen, but it’s otherwise been pretty sluggish.)
And then there was last Tuesday’s episode.
The contestants had to sing “great love songs,” as coached by Andrea Bocelli and his producer. Not promising in itself, the episode was redeemed by the sight of Paula Abdul breaking down in tears after a guy’s performance. She tried to talk about some sort of “triumph of the human spirit” moment, but she was just incoherent and crying. What made this more perfect was the mid-range camera shot, in which we saw co-judge Simon Cowell trying to stifle his laughter. Inspired.
Anyway, I bring this up because there’s a neat article in the NYTimes about the history of show’s own audition, when it was being pitched to every network in America. And to admit that I watch American Idol.
