Excruciatingly bad television makes for fun blogging. And there was some excruciatingly bad television on Tuesday evening.<\/p>\n
We start with American Idol\u2019s<\/span> Andrew Lloyd Webber night, which fell far short of my expectations. To call it \u201cBroadway Night\u201d is a little overstating it, because most of Webber\u2019s stuff is solidly pop. (When they do a Sondheim night, then I\u2019ll be impressed.) There were plenty of good options for these singers, but almost to a person, they chose exactly the wrong crap to sing.<\/p>\n The exception was Syesha, who nailed \u201cOne Rock and Roll Too Many\u201d to the wall. She was flawless in every respect, and I hope this proves to be a breakout for her. She\u2019s certainly one of the prettiest contestants, but she\u2019s never been particularly impressive before last night. To downplay her success by saying it\u2019s \u201cBroadway\u201d instead of pop is just plain wrong. What part of that song \u2013 which I had never heard before, by the way \u2013 would not be at home on a Fantasia or Jordin Sparks album? It may have given her more confidence to think she was singing musical theatre and not \u201creal\u201d pop, but if she can bring that same confidence to the rest of this competition, she could pull a huge upset. She was head and shoulders above everyone else last night, and, as Simon put it, she was sexy besides.<\/p>\n And, digressing for a moment, how much would it suck to be Randy Jackson? Everyone\u2019s really only interested in what Simon has to say, because he\u2019s the only one who actually says anything. Paula\u2019s clearly the worst judge on every level, but she gives all the contestants a freebie, and her bloviated, scattered nonsense provides a certain level of camp value. Idol<\/span> should hold a contest for viewers to guess how many shots of vodka she\u2019s had before going on the air. But Randy? He\u2019s a nonentity who has a repertoire of about five phrases that he uses interchangeably. How many times can you hear \u201cIt was just all right for me, dawg,\u201d and \u201cIt was a little pitchy in spots,\u201d or even \u201cThat was the bomb,\u201d before you pretty much ignore everything he has to say? For me, I reached my limit about a season and a half ago.<\/p>\n And since I\u2019ve deviated from discussing the contestants, can somebody explain what happened to Andrew Lloyd Webber\u2019s face? Is that plastic surgery, and, if so, what self-respecting plastic surgeon would have done that to a fellow human being? He and Michael Jackson must frequent the same clinic.<\/p>\n Anyway, Syesha\u2019s triumph was followed by the horror that was Jason Barbarino Castro, who, admittedly, has a voice too slight for most of this stuff. (He should have sung \u201cBenjamin Calypso\u201d from Joseph<\/span>, strummed his ukelele a few times, and called it good.) So what does he do? He picks Webber\u2019s biggest, showiest, bombastic-est song and butchers the living snot out of it. Randy provided his first insightful comment by labeling it a \u201ctrain wreck,\u201d and, like a train wreck, it was impossible to turn away. I have never seen a more pathetic performance on this show \u2013 outside of auditions \u2013 and I doubt anyone else has, either. I still think he\u2019ll squeak through, because Brooke was just as bad, if not worse.<\/p>\n Actually, that\u2019s not true. Brooke wasn\u2019t nearly as hideous; she was just deadly dull. And on Idol, that\u2019s the greater sin. Simon called Jason\u2019s performance the \u201clongest two minutes of his life,\u201d but that\u2019s not true. Jason was actually fun to watch BECAUSE he sucked so badly. Brooke was just \u2013 there. Flat. Tedious. Nothing. And she picked such a boring song! How about \u201cI Don\u2019t Know How To Love Him\u201d from Superstar<\/span>? Or if she had to stick with Evita<\/span>, what about \u201cAnother Suitcase in Another Hall?\u201d There are plenty of Webber ballads that would have suited her perfectly, and she picks the most forgettable one she can find. Paula was stirred out of her stupor long enough to moan about her stopping and starting, which made little difference. The material couldn\u2019t sustain what she was trying to accomplish.<\/p>\n Then there was David Archuleta, whose \u201cThink of Me\u201d was just fine on its own, but such a missed opportunity! Dude! Don\u2019t you realize that you\u2019ve got a career ahead of you singing Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat<\/span> for the next twenty years? Where was \u201cClose Every Door?\u201d It would have killed! Heck, even \u201cAny Dream Will Do\u201d would have brought the house down. I also thought Webber\u2019s advice about keeping the eyes open was decidedly unhelpful. It\u2019s fine if you\u2019re on a Broadway stage, but he\u2019s a pop singer doing a pop version of a song, and all the advice did was make him self-conscious. He was still better than most of the competition, though.<\/p>\n Especially Carly. Sorry, judges, but you were wrong on this one. She sucked out loud. She didn\u2019t have the range to hit the high notes in the chorus, so she did these pretentious little riffs while the backup singers hit them for her. \u201cMemory\u201d would have been a better choice for her, except she doesn\u2019t have the instrument for it. At least singing \u201cSuperstar\u201d gave her a chance to hide behind flash to make up for lack of raw vocal power. I\u2019d like to see her gone, but Brooke and Jason outsucked her. Maybe next week.<\/p>\n Then there was David Cook, who, I think, took the biggest risk he’s ever taken by singing \u201cThe Music of the Night\u201d and singing it straight. I don\u2019t think he succeeded, really, but he gets props for trying. I would have liked to have seen him do \u201cSuperstar\u201d or anything Judas sings from that show \u2013 maybe \u201cHeaven on their Minds\u201d or \u201cBlood Money.\u201d The Phantom<\/span> piece struck me as an odd choice, but it won\u2019t hurt him in the end.<\/p>\n __________________<\/p>\n Let\u2019s move on, shall we?<\/p>\n Before going to sleep, we started flipping channels in bed and landed on Boston Legal<\/span>, which is David Kelley\u2019s latest self-indulgent exercise in creating conservative straw men and knocking the stuffing out of them. He had James Spader \u2013 who seems to be following the William Shatner diet \u2013 arguing before the Supreme Court, complete with grotesque pseudo-lookalikes of all nine justices who were identified by name. Spader\u2019s character wanders far afield from the case at hand and spends a solid ten minutes excoriating the judges for their sins against liberalism, and, at one point, even tells Thomas to \u201cput down the magazine,\u201d which we are left to assume was pornographic.<\/p>\n Mrs. Cornell was disgusted. \u201cTurn it! This is awful!\u201d Yes, it was, but like an all-Jason-Castro production of Cats<\/span>, I couldn\u2019t look away. It was so deliciously, enticingly stupid. Does Kelley really think the court would sit there and take it as some bloated punk lectured them about their confirmation hearings? Does he think that these conservatives on the court are really demons spawned from hell who cling to power solely to screw over the little guy? And does he really think that if only someone like Spader were brave enough to say \u201cUp yours!\u201d to these scoundrels, they\u2019d collapse, dumbstruck, under the weight of the liberal brilliance shining on them for the very first time?<\/p>\n The answer is yes. Kelley really is that stupid. He\u2019s incapable of attributing any positive attributes to his ideological opponents, so he wildly misreads how they would respond to his flimsy agitprop if someone were foolish enough to drag it into the courtroom.<\/p>\n You\u2019d think he\u2019d at least have taken a moment to actually review a real-life Supreme Court session, which involves far more speaking by the justices than the lawyers. Antonin Scalia would eviscerate Spader in thirty seconds if he started to ramble on about abortion and campaign finance reform in a death penalty case. There wouldn\u2019t be much left of Spader at the end of it, and that\u2019s no small feat, considering how much of him there was at the beginning.<\/p>\n Sorry for all the fat references. Today was my third day of personal training, and I think I nearly died. But at least I\u2019m getting skinnier \u2013 in theory. Political post-script: Yes, Hillary won the Pennsylvania primary, and, no I’m not happy about it. The only satisfaction I can derive from this wretched political season is the tantalizing prospect of the end of the Clintons. The Rush Limbaughs of the world think prolonging the agony in the Democratic primary is somehow helpful, but McCain still loses to the Democrats in head-to-head poll matchups, and it’s unlikely that his positives will ever be higher than they are today with the Dems in disarray. Letting the Clintons linger gives them more time to steal this thing, and if it’s at all possible to do that, they will do it.<\/p>\n The next president will be a Democrat, and if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather it not be Hillary.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Excruciatinglybad television makes for fun blogging. And there was some excruciatingly bad television on Tuesday evening. We start with American Idol\u2019s<\/span> Andrew Lloyd Webber night, which fell far short of my expectations. To call it \u201cBroadway Night\u201d is a little overstating it, because most of Webber\u2019s stuff is solidly pop. (When they do a Sondheim ... 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