Ryan says we are about to join the Mile High Club in Denver. Or something like that anyway. There are shots of mountains and other things of altitude to emphasise the point. Chris Daughtry once trooped down from a heady Colorado peak to audition here a few years past so that proves Denver’s Got Talent. HIGH hopes then for the mile high city. Did you see what I did there?
Vicky Beckham’s back. Since Boston, it looks like she over did it with the lettuce and Ryvita as her left little toe looks absolutely enormous. Still, she has managed to squeeze herself in a wrapper from the Purple one in the Quality Street tin and looks shiny, if a bit disorientated. Ryan steers her back on course like she is his drunken Auntie, teetering out of bingo after a few too many sherries. Randy and Simon have also been affected by altitude sickness and can’t work out where they are. Chicago? Atlanta? Austin? Well, there appear to be no topless male dancers so that rules out Miami. Randy bores Simon with some lame anecdote about him resembling David Beckham which appears to be yet another excuse to Photoshop Randy’s face onto a celebrity. Apart from his perennially wise words about things being “A bit pitchy dawg”, there seems to be very little use for Mr Jackson this season other than to mock in intro sequences.
Our first sacrificial lamb to the Idol slaughter is Mark Labriola, whose dining out large on the fact that wearing a daft beret and some stupid specs cast him as Jack Black’s more annoying brother. When he says “Chillow” instead of hello, then the surge of hate that overflows my very senses is considerable. There then follows a hideous story about a custody battle that is too long and too coma inducing to recap in any form. Simon tries to be cute with it, but struggles, so what hope do I have? It is then, a rather quelle surprise moment that this annoying little gobshite can actually sing fairly well – and does a Squeeze number with surprising aplomb(Squeeze? On Idol? Have we slipped into an alternate reality? One where Miley Cyrus has never been born?). Posh can’t believe that anyone so stupid looking could sing THAT WELL. Because naturally, she is purely superficial and judges only on how thin you are and how good you look in Prada. The other judges concur that she is absolutely right. Simon is well into ugly people that can sing these days, so nods sagely in agreement. After another smattering of shittery about his background, Mark is FINALLY put through with 4 solid yeses.
A hefty, yet pointless montage of contestants we have already seen in previous shows who are shown being “nervous”. To combat the terror of their impending audition, they have employed various techniques including copious amount of hair clutching, exercise, wearing chicken outfits and vomiting over Seacrest. Lets meet Mario Galvan. Mario has a nervous twitchy laugh and has been rolled out as this week’s person to mercilessly mock. Unfortunately dressed in a floor length army trench coat paired with baggy tracksuit bottoms and offering up “Jailhouse Rock” then really, he is asking for all he gets. Simon decides what a jolly jape it would be to copy his laugh after every sentence – which should be cruel and horrible, but is actually rather amusing. But then I’ve always been a sucker for Simon when he is in one of his “Lets humiliate the delusionals” moods. Kara is choking into her Coca Cola cup, and even Posh’s face which is usually frozen into a chilly pout, is cracking under the pressure and is verging on a smile. He is quickly despatched to 4 succinct No’s and actually looks a little disgruntled at the fact the panel failed to recognise his potential.
A little touristy montage of the “Great Outdoors” that Colorado has to offer, the beauty then juxtaposed with a volley of swearing and cussing rejected contestants who blacken the once pure air with their rage. Ryan’s made to spout some inane dialogue about the negative energy turning into hope with the next contestant, Kimberley Kerbow. As a balance to all those nasty, embittered individuals, Kim skips beside a babbling brook with her 5 year old daughter. Unfortunately, the kid may have been peddled as a cute-as-a-button sweet pea, in reality this petulant, obnoxious spawn has massive potential only on Toddlers & Tiaras. The kid is all big attitude and an explosion of crazy drama queen at age sodding FIVE. It makes me wonder that letting kids watch these fame whoring style shows may cause them more long term damage than if you sat them down with their juice boxes in front of Saw.
In the audition room Kimberley bounds in wearing a very obvious wig – which inexplicably Simon fails to snigger and point at. Although it isn’t long before her odd song choice freaks him out totally as she simpers the lyric “I’ll buy you Rogaine when you lose your hair” right at him. Telling Simon he is on the verge of baldness a very dangerous path to tread love. A better bet would to have been clad in a micro bra and a thong coupled with belting out a Leona Lewis number. Despite her suicidal song choice, the judges like her voice and put her through. After she leaves, Simon then can’t resist pointing out he has noticed her incredibly bad hair piece after all. The girls concur and Randy is left in a pool of denial because to him it looked like Real Hair. I’m sure if the wig had been pitchy though, he’d have noticed. Outside, Ryan usurps the hateful children and manages to be cuter than all of them.
A brief menagerie of Yeses as a gaggle of excited contestants are put through and Ryan tells us the judges are impressed with the talent on offer in Denver. Well, Simon is impressed with the wigs anyway.
Next up is Danelle Hayes who scrapes a living by running a Karaoke Bar. Idol is pretty much the biggest Karaoke Competition in the WORLD, so she should fit right in. To keep with today’s theme, she also has a small child to support, although it’s not obnoxiously cute enough to get any telly time.
Danelle decides the best way to endear herself to the panel is to cry about her hardship in clawing a living in the music biz. Kara is usually like a lion after a crippled gazelle when comments like this are made, telling contestants they need to be tough to succeed in the industry, but for some reason the judges treat her with tea and sympathy instead. Even Simon has his concerned pouty face on, instead of his usual sneer of contempt. Danelle sings “I’m The Only One” and the judges swoon over her voice. Simon reckons she has auditioned “just in time” and thinks he can rescue her from “Corporate Hell” which is like the biggest dollop of irony to spill from his gob – EVER. One wonders how thick the Idol contractual dossier is that these poor souls have to autograph before they even get a 1/2 second slot on an Idol promo ad? About as thick as Randy’s meaty thumbs I bet. Still, Simon seems blissfully happy to peddle the notion that Idol is all about sparkly dreams, overnight success, untold riches and snuggly hugs from Seacrest. Danelle swallows the bullshit with one big deluded gulp and is en route to Hollywood – don’t forget to pack an extra case for your contract my dear. And another with hankies to mop up your tears of disappointment when the Idol Corporate Machine spits you back to your humdrum little existence.
After the break, Posh is dispensing fashion advice to a clutch of Denver Delusionals who have come in a cornucopia of tragic outfits including a hot dog costume and a gothic bat suit. She puts through one girl for wearing “nice boots”. Sigh.
Our next offering is Casey James who has come complete with denim and a sob story. Casey NEARLY DIED in a motorcycle accident and has impressive scars to prove it. Fortunately for Casey, they aren’t on his face, because they don’t do ugly on Idol. Disabilities are fine as long as they are cute ones or can be covered up by a hefty application of Max Factor.
Casey’s audition is off to a shaky start and Simon soon calls a halt to it telling him its “bad”. Kara disagrees which gets her a majestic Simon eye roll and a displeased huff. Victoria, as always has her bony little finger on the pulse of the music business and wants to know what Casey would look like with his hair down. It’s at times like this that they should let Simon keep a taser under the desk. Kara and Posh swoon at the sight of Casey with his blond locks now free and keep up the assault by getting him to strip his shirt off too. Simon looks like he wants to fast forward his exit from this excruciating show by precisely one year. He tells Casey he should be deeply embarrassed – which usually doesn’t happen until Hollywood week where everyone gets drunk and forgets their words. It’s a resounding No from Si. The girls have been won over by a fit torso and great hair so say Yes. Randy says Yes as well but advises Casey to find some “Star Persona Pills” from somewhere. And if he can’t find those, some Crystal Meth will probably suffice.
Ryan has collected more children and falls over a few whilst introducing Tori Kelly who he says is 16 but 16 in a way that only American Teenagers can be – i.e. she looks like she is pressing 35. Tori brings in one of the children to her audition as a little lucky charm. Makes a change from sawn off rabbits feet I suppose. The kids brings pictures she has drawn of the judges which impresses Simon who tells her she is a “good drawrer”. Posh tries not to gag as hers makes her look like a portly size 10 and not an emancipated Ethiopian famine victim. Si thinks Randy’s portrait is a photographic likeness in that it’s a big brown blob wearing a hideous top. Eventually they let Tori sing and she does John Mayer’s “Gravity” which the judges seem to enjoy on the whole. Well, the whole bit of the judges that doesn’t include Simon who thought she was “annoying” and would put the kid with the drawings through instead. Victoria presses the point that SHE LOOKS PRETTY SIMON for fucks sake so she should automatically bestowed with a ticket of gold. Simon snipes it isn’t a fashion show and tugs on his crap Primark T Shirt to prove the point. Whilst the less important judges concentrate on putting her through, Simon mutters she looks like a human orange and sulks with his biro.
15 Golden Tickets have been given out on Day 1 and Ryan calls it “our best day yet” which seems a little optimistic seeing as we have only put through a Jack Black lookalike, a karaoke queen, a topless motorcycle crash victim(WITH scars) and the oldest looking teenager in Colorado.
Day 2 dawns with the fuglies in the crowd baying they are all the next American Idol. Ryan admires the confidence on offer and introduces Austin Paul who has a planet sized ego and a pea sized brain. Austin plays (American) football which seems to involve throwing a rugby ball between his legs and not much else. He also composes songs and rides a moped. Both incredibly badly. Austin seems to think he is an Adonis amongst men, whereas in reality he is a horrid wooden caricature and Id put my house the fact that he almost certainly has an incredibly small penis. He creeps out the judges, especially Vicky (who I should add, has today come as a Pepparami with a hair bun) who says he makes her feel itchy. And not in a good way. Kara notes he needs to be brought down a peg or fifty. Anyway, he can’t sing, Simon loathes him and makes the most wonderful vomiting noises as he leaves.
Next up is Kenny Everett (Ha! No – not the dead one) who is almost as hateful and obnoxious as Austen but without the mildly redeeming feature of a fit body. Kenny wails what he professes to be a Mary J Blige song, but really it could have been anything from a commercial for dog food to the phone directory. The judges mouths hang agape in horror. Simon tells him he sounded like he had been punched – and is on the verge of putting that little idea into practise I think. Even after the judges tell him to bugger off he continues to sing and is incredulous that they hate him. This goes on too long but does end quite cutely, when the judges chant at him to “go go go go go” in the style of his final, desperate song choice. In the Booth of Honesty outside he ponders “How can four people tell you you can’t sing when you know you are a good singer? There has to be something up with THAT.” Yes, it means you are on the verge of paranoid schizophrenia. Keep taking the meds mate.
Ryan tells us we 5000 miles above sea level and the air is thin, much like the talent. There follows a comedic interlude of meths swilling crazies for our delight. A screeching Goth girl to whom Simon notes has killed every cat in Denver with her incessant high pitched wail, fat girls who barge the cameramen like angry quarterbacks, a high pitched pretty gay lad with great hair but less great vocals and a school maths nerd who sings Elvis in a mysterious deep voice that contrasts oddly with his scrawny physique. Finally a guy dressed as a janitor does a freaky scat number which Simon evilly giggles “Its like having Paula back on the show”. Ha! Ryan’s dear little lumberjack shirt is sodden with tears after this sad little batch is despatched with vehement No’s.
Nicci Nix has flown in from Florence Italy via Frankfurt Germany to audition. How VERY cosmopolitan of her. Maybe she isn’t familiar with European Idol which is a pretty similar show, except she’d have to sing topless. Even in its own right this is quite an annoying sob story, yet even more so is her squeaky baby voice which sounds like she has inhaled the contents of two thousand helium balloons. Simon immediately wants Kara to ask if she has been “eating helium” which sounds like a rather dodgy euphemism and neither Kara nor Vicks will go there. Simon does ask eventually but our little world traveller has trouble deciphering Simon’s accent and looks blank. Its probably the best way. Anyway, Nicci is singing a Girls Aloud number which will be a good way of alienating the American public instantly. Simon proves his musical taste is as shit as we always suspected by singing along with the song “Something kinda Oooooh”. He does redeem himself a smidge by snarking its one of the most meaningful lyrics EVER written. Of course the huge shock factor with Nicci is her singing voice doesn’t sound like a billion mice in a cheese factory, but has a good poppy sound which is about 27 octaves deeper than her talking voice. The judges are always suckers for a “surprise” vocal and Nicci is easily through to Hollywood. And now the hard works starts for her. Planning a route even more convoluted than the one to Denver. I bet the Galapagos Islands and the South Pole will feature heavily in her itinerary.
The sun is setting on Denver which can only mean there is time for one more tragic tale of woe. Welcome Haeley Vaughn who has quite an arsenal of misery up her sleeve. She kicks off with the fact she was a tiny premature baby with all sorts of hideous complications. Fast forward 10 years and her dad shuffles off this mortal coil (it isn’t made clear whether his final words were “You must audition for American Idol” but they probably were), Then, worst of all, its revealed Haeley has a vile “Stage school Mom” who has proclaimed since FOREVER that her kid is gonna be on this show. Add into the mix that Haeley wants to be the first black country pop artist and I give you the most perfect auditionee this show has EVER seen.
Haeley sings a song I think I heard in Glee and the judges love it. Simon declares her a “cute little thing” like she is a puppy. Posh likes her dress. Natch. Kara thinks she should lower her register a little and Randy enthuses that he likes the fact she is aiming to be different. Haeley tells us her sister and Mom both fancy the pants off of Simon so are invited in to worship him for a little while. Naturally Haeley gets a massive collective Yes and interrupt Ryan who is either tweeting or surfing for porn backstage with their screams.
That’s almost it for Denver – 26 Golden tickets were given out which mean 21 people will be thoroughly pissed off their audition was never televised. If only that were the end but sadly no.
We are reminded of Bikini Girl from last year who made headlines by becoming one of the rare breed of ladies to be photographed kissing Ryan. She made Kara implode with rage until she exacted revenge on Finale night by looking hotter and singing better. Good news is the shameless tramp HASNT turned up in Denver for another go – bad news is, meet “Bikini Boy” instead. Kara and Simon can’t resist swearing loudly as Bikini Boy makes his entrance and offers up “Achy Breaky Heart”. Simon decides that now is a good time to head back to Los Angeles. Kara wisely tells Bikini Boy “Don’t move your hips like that honey” as he thrusts what looks like a suspiciously empty package at the judges. They leave the poor wee soul to stand alone on the audition mat, scratching his bum and looking confused. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on your outlook) Bikini Boy makes no attempt to snog Ryan and that brings the Denver auditions to a close.
Tomorrow: The Best of Rest. Whatever that means. I’m ever hopeful it will include Ryan semi naked though.
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That’s really funny what you said about Victoria Beckham overdoing with the lettuce. She’s so tiny on the tv, I wonder how tinnier she is in person.