It’s Your Fault You Didn’t Shut The Refrigerator

It’s Your Fault You Didn’t Shut The Refrigerator

by Paulette Frank

Whenever I’m around someone who mentions his or devotion to shows like “Survivor” or “Big Brother” or, oh my God, “THE BACHELOR” (WHY am I hanging around these people??), I stand on my tippy toes (or a chair, if need be) so I can look down my nose at said person while proclaiming, “I don’t watch reality TV.” But then along comes GROUP NIGHT and I’m utterly, thoroughly reminded that, well, actually, I do. Ugh. The tears, the snide comments, the “Oh, no she di-int”s–all of those things entertain me much more when they come from actual paid actors (not that reality TV people aren’t acting or getting paid … you know what I mean).

So round one of what Seacrest calls Hell Week is over, and 85 people blew it or didn’t cut it and they went home. 96 are left to run around a huge, contestant-filled room to try to find like-minded people to perform with. A threesome called “The Dreamers” (which includes the rocker mom with the daughter who loves Simon) gets turned into a fivesome when two girls randomly latch on (or maybe they like the song?), and the lone male in the group, Alex Lambert, isn’t happy about it, but no one cares what he thinks. “Anyone want to do ‘No One’? ‘No one’?” says one girl whose voice is lost in the din as she hops up and down looking for partners. “The Mighty Rangers” are five people who all auditioned in Denver, including the cheese lover whose mom kidnapped him and some girl who wants people to comment on her giant clown glasses. Another quintet, “Phoenix”, is led by a girl named Moorea, who last year performed with Danny Gokey during Group Night and made it through to the next round, and while she did at least change her socks, she’s still on the superstitious side and decides for the group that they’re going to practice in the closet (i.e. very large storage room), where her group practiced last year.

By midnight, all the groups are together and practicing except for “The Dreamers”, whose newest additions are MIA. “Dude, you know what? These two are fired,” says Rocker Mom in the sort of voice that always makes me cringe (the same kind that people use when they’re sending back their steaks–“I said well-done, not burnt!”). When they finally arrive, everyone has to sort of figure out whether they actually want them to stay in the group. That involves asking an AI staff member what the group minimum is. Ouch. Mad positive vibes emanating from THAT group.

The quartet “Neapolitan” is working on Lady GaGa’s “Bad Romance”, or they’re trying to, but they can’t find a spot. Another quartet, “Destiny’s Wild”, is performing the same song, and not holding anything back as they’re practicing, which apparently breaks some kind of unwritten rule or something, because people seem to be pissed off. They have to keep moving around because they’re so loud and “we’re so amazing,” says Toddrick Hall. “And everyone’s jealous of us.” They finally end up right by “Neapolitan”, which inevitably leads to accusations of copying, plagiarizing, or whatever you may call it when the cheating involves dance moves and arrangements.

Back in the ‘closet’, Moorea is preaching the importance of harmonies, and out in the common area, “The Dreamers” are still whining about their two tagalongs, but in the end, they stick together. “We like them, it’s just … tension,” says Margo May.

At 2:30 am, Michael Lynche (“Big Mike”), one quarter of the quartet known as “Team Awesome” (which also has Seth Rollins, the teddy bear of a guy with the autistic son; Michael Castro, Jason’s little brother; and Tim Urban, who looks like the Jonas judge) is up in his room talking to his laboring wife, and he hopes to have a baby before sunup. A lot of other people, though, are still practicing. “The Mighty Rangers” are torn 60/40 about their choreography but head to bed anyway. So do lots of other people. “The Dreamers” aren’t among them, and they’re having even more problems now that Rocker Mom is being so bossy that even the accompanist hates her a little. “Listen, honey,” he begins, stopping his six-fingered piano-playing (he’s got all ten, it’s just he has to hold his water bottle, too).

So then it’s back to the “Destiny’s Wild”/“Neapolitan” fiery feud, the flames of which are being fanned by whoever decided to put them back-to-back with the vocal coach, so while “Destiny’s Wild” was practicing, “Neapolitan” was waiting and watching, getting all pissy because “Destiny” was taking so long and also because it was bedtime, maybe. But “Destiny” finally finishes and goes prancing and jumping and loudly, annoyingly singing off to bed. By then, “Neapolitan” is way grouchy and kind of sucky, and they vow to sleep for a bit and get back to it in the morning.

So now it’s Day Two, and Ryan tells us that pretty much everyone is confident about last night’s practice sessions, but then we find out about all the people who can’t remember the words of the one verse they have to memorize. Among them is cheese-lover. Damn (seriously, I really like him). Then Ryan tells us things are starting to look more like Group Day, and we see all sorts of instances of people looking frustrated and disappointed. Then we see Rocker Mom admonishing Alex for not singing “at something” and generally acting all elementary school principal-y. Ish. Then we find out that Big Mike’s wife is 8 cm, and that everyone loves “Destiny’s Wild”, and Rocker Principal loves them so much that she’s brought to tears watching them practice. It’s mostly their rapport that’s so moving to her, and she haltingly, tearfully explains to the camera that that’s what she wants for her group, for them to just have fun. (“I said have fun, dammit!!!!!”) Then, right as everyone’s getting called into the audition room, Big Mike gets the call that his baby girl is coming out. The rest of “Team Awesome” tries to act all happy that he’s off by himself getting this life-changing call and not like they’re ready to cuss and scream and yell and strangle people because he might make them miss their chance. But the baby comes and he gets back and all’s well.

Up first is “Faith”, a trio of girls that includes Charity Vance (whose parents have a salon in the house, right?) and Ashley “The Mouth” Rodriguez. They sing that Beyonce song that rhymes “in a minute” with “in a minute” (genius!!). Even though they use their head voices a little too much, it’s pretty enough and they’re all through.

“Team Awesome” is up next, and they perform an unexciting version of “Get Ready”. Randy, the only judge who seems to know there are two R’s in ‘forward’, gets Big Mike and Tim to come to the front, and Ryan wonders which young father, Big Mike or Seth, will continue his journey, and then we get our first dose of “Find out … after the break!” I’ll spare you the wait. It’s Big Mike, and Seth is gone forever, because he’s too old to come back. Aww. I like him. And Castro II is gone, too. I’m sure he’ll be back.

And now it’s time for “Neapolitan”, and blonde/pink-haired Liz Roonan’s first notes sound absolutely awful, but the rest of it is okay, I guess. I liked the harmony on “loooooove”. In the midst of the performance, there’s a flashback and we hear about how “Neapolitan” stole “Destiny Wild’s” idea to perform the song a capella. Oh my GOD. But then it’s back to the performance. Simon waves his arms before they’re done, though, and I figure he’s going to tell them they’re awful, it was utter rubbish, but then he says, “I actually thought, in its own way, that was very good.” He liked that they worked hard, and Ellen thought it was great. The raspy-voiced black girl says how “no one had chose this song, actually, so we just decided to take it and have fun with it.” Flash to Theri of “Destiny’s Wild” saying “Oh no she di-int.” But despite “Destiny’s Wild’s” ill-wishes, “Neapolitan” in its entirety is through.

And so is “Destiny’s Wild” after an energetic performance (complete with Toddrick’s display of tumbling prowess) and an oddly icky final note. It was weird and surreal, according to Ellen, but I guess those are good things? Outside the audition room, we hear more about how awesome “Destiny’s Wild” is from “Destiny’s Wild”, which sets off a montage of winners (all of whom I would’ve rather watched than the crap we’ve seen so far).

But then there’s “The Mighty Rangers”, and cheese-boy Matt Labriola and wig-girl Kimberley Kerbow forget the words to Ne-Yo’s “Closer”, but Tori Kelly sounds pretty good and though clown-glasses-girl looks like she’s trying to be funnysexy with her dancing (the same way girls make fun of model poses while secretly hoping they’re looking hot doing it), at least she remembers the words. Bye-bye Matt and Kimberley (and Danny, whose eyebrows are visible from miles away but whose voice we didn’t get to hear, probably because he forgot the words). Poor Matt got to sobbing, I guess, because we saw the aftereffects as he talked to the camera about how it had been his last chance. He’d talk and then have that uncontrollable breath in that only happens after you’ve cried until you’re lightheaded, you know? Really heartbreaking, seriously.

So now it’s 5 pm and we’re about to see “Phoenix”, who’s down to four members after blonde Kat left because she knew she was going to embarrass herself, but it’s ok, because the vocal coach assures them they’ll be fine because she didn’t matter anyway. But Ben Honeycutt bumbles his opening words of “Carry On My Wayward Son”, Jeff Goldford sounds sort of unnaturally gruff like he’s trying to imitate Bob Seger, and then it turns out that Moorea, who was pushing the harmony so hard, should’ve devoted a little time to learning the words. Plus her voice sounded kinda crappy and non-musical. But then Jermaine Sellers says to hell with y’all, I’m gonna perform. And he does, though he goes a tad overboard with his runs. Then Moorea talks about their hardship, and Simon’s like, “Shut your whiny little bitch mouth … hardship my ass … all you had to do is learn a song.” Or something like that. That’s an approximate quote. So the judges get rid of the ones who at least remembered the words.

Then we see a whole bunch of other people who can’t remember the words to “Sweet Escape” by Gwen Stefani. You know, it’s the one that goes “If I could escape I would, but first of all, let me say I must apologize for acting stank and treating you this way ‘cause I’ve been acting like sour milk all on the floor–it’s your fault you didn’t shut the refrigerator maybe that’s the reason I’ve been acting so cold.” Finally, one girl who I guess got to use a teleprompter made it through, but then it’s back to more who didn’t. Bye-bye ex-juvie Matt Lawrance and drama queen Amanda Schectman. Matt is sad ‘cause he’s disappointing the people who’ve stood behind him, and Amanda, whose mascara is running all down her face, is sad ’cause she has so much in her that now she can’t share. Then Ryan shows us a bunch of other people we saw on the road but haven’t seen since. Remember them? Yeah, they got cut, too.

Finally, we get to see three people who harmonize on more than just one note. The trio “Middle C” is Jannell Wheeler, Jermaine Purifory, and shirtless wonder Casey James, and they do Ne-Yo’s “Closer” and remember the words AND sing prettily and emotionally. A winning combination. “Three Men and a Baby”, featuring Paula Abdul’s “Straight Up” cover boy Andrew Garcia and the girl with the Alzheimer‘s-ridden Portuguese grandmother, 17-year-old Katie Stevens, finds the winning combination on their version of “No One”.

So they’ve saved Rocker Principal’s group for last, and after one final look into their discord (Hope Johnson doesn’t like RP’s bossiness or show-offy style–and gives us a little imitation–and RP is all pissy with everyone because nobody’s getting along), we get to see them perform. RP opens “Dreams” in her show-offy style, giggling a little at herself maybe because she knows she sounds just like Hope’s imitation, but the judges don’t seem to notice, or at least don’t care. Then it’s Hope’s turn and she does fine, but then Margo May starts and it’s like listening to some complete joke from the auditions round. What the hell? The judges find it hysterical, though. “How do we switch her microphone off?” Simon wonders. Then Alex starts his bit but Simon has had enough. “It’s like the dream died somewhere on that stage,” says Kara. Randy asks RP and Hope to step forward and there’s this long pause where we think he’s going to make an announcement, but then he tells Alex to step forward, too, and the front row is through. Hope looks like she needs to be put on suicide watch and I wonder what the hell I missed. I guess she’s just upset that she has to see more of RP, who tells the cameras outside that she loves the “Dreamers” and wishes them all the best, but she’ll never work with them again, all the while laughing like she’d be doing them some favor if she did.

Then Ryan gives us some stats (71 of the 96 that started the day got to the next round), then gives us a list of people we didn’t see get through but who did, then we see Kara telling Katie Stevens that she could be the potential winner. Then we see the airport dockworker guy talking about how just what he’s done so far in his AI journey is more than anything he’s ever done (it’s ‘cause he’s just a dockworker, and dockworkers and waitresses just never experience anything). Then the Shirtless Wonder says something about something profound for which there are just no words, and that’s it. That’s the end of Group Night.

So that wasn’t so bad, after all. I kind of enjoyed the tears, actually. It’s fun to watch other people’s hardships, even when it turns out they’re not hardships at all. (You tell ’em, Simon). I may even have to suck it up and find out when “Survivor” comes on. And what channel.