Monday, September 18, 2006

Oz Idol wrap up: 2nd semi final

I'm back, I'm back! Yay! Are you happy? Apologies to all my loyal BC-ites who missed a wrap up of the first semi final, but if it makes you feel any better - I didn't even get to see it myself. I was in the only place in Australia Channel 10 doesn't broadcast to. People there say "Rove who?" it's great, it really is.

Anyway down to business. This is ROCK NIGHT, and the judges let us know how they feel about the genre. Holden says there's more to rock than just shouting over a big thumping beat (Vanessa Amorosi's Absolutely Everybody springs to mind here). Marcia smiles and says she's a big fan of rock and roll. Everyone wonders why she's still allowed to speak on air. Kyle says he's looking forward to exciting fire, hardcore and craziness. Clearly he is on some heavy flu medication and thinks he is at a Crusty Demons demolition derby, because as everyone knows, none of those three things will make an appearance tonight. Still, we soldier on.

First up is Ricky Muscat who, we learn, has been "styled" by some guy called Sheridan whose claim to fame is that his dad is fashion designer Richard Tyler. According to Idol, Sheridan is a GENIUS and so we eagerly await the HARDCORE ROCK AND ROLL STYLE he is going to swathe our Ricky in.

In this instance, "style" seems to equate to a t shirt, jeans and some hair gel, and Ricky ends up looking like any kid you'd find hanging out in the local Westfield. He seems happy though, gushing "Usually people just see me in jeans and a T shirt, and now they're seeing me in full on slacks and collared shirts and stuff." Slacks? Don't stop the rock, Ricky. It's ok though, they eventually pour him into a pair of leather pants and he becomes our first rock cliche for the night, singing Franz Ferdinand's Take Me Out. Out where? In those pants I'm thinking the Mars Bar. Or perhaps a rodeo. Ricky channels JD Fortune for this number, strangely giving a more animated performance than Franz Ferdinand actually did when they were here for the Big Day Out. Once again he starts pulling those weird, intense facial expressions he's unfortunately become famous for - they make him look like a psycho Japanese teppanyaki chef just before he throws a boiling hot piece of yakitori chicken in your face.

The camera cuts to the audience, where former "rock chick" Amanda Streete is pretending to have a good time whilst secretly fuming: "This was supposed to be MY night. I would have done that song SO much better."

And then it's over. Holden tells him he's "cocky and rocky". Hey, and Ricky! He should have that on a T shirt. Marcia tells him he's a clotheshorse. Everyone wonders if she's remembered her medication. Kyle calls Holden an old turd for no apparent reason. Monkey Boy calls Ricky a tool. Oh no wait, he says rock and roll is a tool of the devil. Whatever. Then Monkey Boy gives him some football medal, and Ricky wonders if he's just won Idol. He hasn't.

Next up is The Best Thing To Ever Come Out Of This Country Musically, Lisa Mitchell.

As Sheridan THE GENIUS begins to style her up, Lisa craps on about her own personal style, which is apparently a micture of preppy, and cute, and something else and something else and WHO THE HELL KNOWS WHAT THIS GIRL IS EVER SAYING? DOES SHE EVEN SPEAK ENGLISH? SOMEONE GET AN INTERPRETER, FOR GOD'S SAKE. Once again she's wearing a vest, making us wonder if she perhaps doesn't have shares in a vest company.

She starts singing Dancing with Myself, a much better choice than her original selection, Playing with Myself, which the producers felt might get misconstrued. Once again she gives a boring as all hell performance and looks like she's trying to remember the words. Clearly she doesn't succeed, as her version of the chorus seems to be "Dancing with mice e-elf." Again, she shuffles about the stage looking like a dementia patient, which again, is even funnier in fast forward.

Marcia says it's great to see her "working the stage" every week. Surely she means "walking". Holden tells her she doesn't need another father, but if she changes her mind he'd really really REALLY like the position. Actually, he tells her to stop meandering about and learn some stage craft. Two weeks after praising her as TBTTECOOTCM, Kyle tells her he's right off her. "I'm off ya, I'm right off it." Holden says he's not off her yet. Marcia wonders how they all got on her in the first place. Lisa looks bewildered, or bored, I'm not sure which.

Then we have everyone's favourite skinhead, Mutto. We start by discussing his personal style, and by the looks of the photo montage from his past he doesn't actually have any. He mentions how he's embarrassed about his rather thick crop of body hair, and everyone realises he actually has the world's first body mullet - short and shaved up top, thick and flowing down below. THAT is truly rock.

He sings Clocks - clearly Coldplay is ROCK now, although I can't imagine anyone bodysurfing a mosh to The Scientist, so I think that claim could be disputed. Will he be disqualified for trying to dress up mum and dad lo-fi cruise music as ROCK? As it turns out, no, he won't. He gets his Bono on, crouching down low, closing his eyes and frowning into the microphone, but his falsetto is crud and it lets down an otherwise good performance.

Holden tells him the performance was "workman like" and then asks him to open his jacket. We're not sure what he's looking for - perhaps a workman's uniform. Then Mark talks about his falsetto. Mark loves to say falsetto. Marcia says thank you. Kyle starts to say something, and Marcia interrupts by leaning over and whispering something in his ear. Perhaps she's asking if he's seen her medication. Kyle then calls the audience idiots, and tells Mutto to cut out the ballet, which sort of solves the mystery of where Marcia's medication has gone.

Check it out, it's Ashlee Simpson! Oh no wait, it's Klancie Keough, dressed like a tart once again but still looking sort of cute. Damn her. She's singing - surprise, surprise - some country song. She's sporting a cute new fringe, except that it's gone all greasy and piecey, as if she's a spotty 14 year old working the counter at Donut King. All in all, it's just a bad Shania rip off. And do we REALLY need another Shania? A BAD ONE?

Marcia wants to know where she got her jeans from, cos she'd like to buy a pair. Viewers all over the country turn down the volume on their TV to silence the sound of 300 studio audience members gagging. Holden says she delivered it with honesty, which means it was true to the country spirit, which means it's crap and no one will like it. He tells her he thinks she's from a different era, and we wonder if he hasn't slipped back into the Twilight Zone again. Kyle says she looks fantastic, and then slips her his phone number on the back of a condom wrapper.

Next up it's Todd Flanders Bobby Flynn.

Spot the difference

Sheridan starts telling us how Bobby is like no one else. Bobby is an individual. Bobby is unique. BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH. Bobby has an afro, ok, we get it. It doesn't make him an INDIVIDUAL, it makes him look like an idiot. When will people get over afros? The only people who look good in afros are black, THAT'S WHY THEY'RE CALLED AFROS. Lanky gingers with bad teeth do NOT look good with big hair. Take note, Mr Flynn. The shows sponsors sit up and take note as Sheridan cements Bobby's fate, which is clearly to never win Idol: "Bobby really hates brands, he doesn't like to be a billboard." Goodbye, Bobby.

But as he launches into a daring version of Werewolves of London, and I hear his lovely, lovely voice, I am smitten again. I TAKE IT ALL BACK, I LOVE YOU BOBBY, YOU ARE AN INDIVIDUAL AND I LOVE YOUR AFRO MORE THAN IS NATURAL! He's looking sharp in a white collared shirt with the buttons undone, and a black dinner jacket and jeans - it's sort of a "morning after Las Vegas wedding" kind of vibe. At one point he looks like he's having a fit as his left hand starts shaking uncontrollably, but perhaps it's just tha Frank Sinatra sized hangover he's got after that Vegas wedding.

Holden does some werewolf impressions, and tells him he's inhis own musical universe. We're not sure which universe Mark is currently in. Marcia says she's a nosy person, and admits to having watched the audience, and not Bobby, for the duration of his song. Kyle says it's brilliant, fantastic, excellent. Vive le Flynn!

We move on to Reigan Derry, and Sheridan THE GENIUS is unsuccessfully trying to get her to wear a dress, or black pants, or boots, or ANYTHING. Reigan wondes why he's bothering - I mean, didn't he see her Swedish disco milk maid number the other week? As if SHE needs any help stylin up!

Our Shakira lookalike kicks into an obscure song by obscure band Karnivool, who probably paid her off in Swedish milkmaid outfits and suede clogs to give them some exposure. We know it's rock night, honey, but that doesn't mean you have to break out the System of a Down. Fuck! As she screams into the miscophone, pulling a crazy ROCK face to match her black leather outfit, the kiddies in the audience get scared and start crying for their mums. I do too. Actually, she's pretty kick arse as a rock chick (take THAT Amanda Streete), but clearly she'll go nowhere with this one, because people "can't sing along to it". She caps it off with a final note so shrill and broken that dogs in the outer New Hebrides start barking. Clearly pleased with herself, Reigan gives the international sign of the devil, and then gives the peace sign just to be sure (or perhaps she's trying to get super Christian Dean Geyer into bed and doesn't want him to think she's too evil)

Marcia gives her "props" for singing "the dog note". She continues to search for backup medication. Holden says she didn't put a fire in his wire, or a shiver in his quiver. We wonder if this amounts to sexual harassment. Kyle tells her she's mental and stupid. Holden interjects by saying she should do it to 110, and she only got to 93 that time. Reigan wonders where she can buy an Idol calculator like the one Holden's obviously got stashed under the desk.

Diddle-dee-dee, it's Irishman Damien Leith. Sheridan dresses him up like Shannon Noll in a black jacket and white shirt - clearly he has shares in a black jacket and white shirt factory, as he's dressed almost every boydol in it tonight. Our little leprechaun sings Radiohead's Creep, which sucks. It's sped up, there's no swearing, and he holds his notes like a bad cabaret singer. But then his falsetto kicks in, and by the time he gets to the final note we've all been charmed again and we're busy making him cupcakes and cards that say I WUV YOU in silver painted macaroni and paste.

Holden says his voice has elements of Roy Orbison, and wonders if he has orgasms when he holds long notes. Idol's HR person puts another tick in the "sexual harrasment" box next to Holden's name on her clipboard. He tells him not to hold every note, and to get more variety. For the 500th time Marcia makes a point of contradicting Holden, telling Damien not to listen to him and to just "sing, brother man, sing". She's like one of those overprotective mothers defending their poxy kid's every wrong move: "How many times have I told him not to draw on the farkin walls?" "He can draw on them if he wants to ! He's being creative!" Kyle says he loves him and can find no fault, but then criticses him for wearing Ricky Martin's pants. We suspect they're actually more likely to be Ricky MUSCAT'S pants, which leads us to imagine that he must be backstage somewhere, trouserless...

Next it's an in-depth look at Jessica Mauboy's personal style, which might as well be 30 seconds of blank tape, because she clearly doesn't have any. Sheridan says he wouldn't compare Jessica's style to anyone else. Good move, I wouldn't want to offend anyone in that way either.

For once she sings something other than Whitney Houston - it's Kelly Clarkson. Sheridan has shown his versaility as a stylist by dressing her in a white shirt, black jacket and jeans. Just for something different. She does, however look great. She used to look like someone who shops at Target. Now she looks like someone who'd walk straight past Target...on their way to Just jeans. But hey, it's a start. She gives a most kick-ass performance of Walk Away.

Marcia delivers her trademark eubonics with a "Go ahead wit yo bad self!" Everyone checks their watches to see if they're in a New York ghetto in 1983, but the results are inconclusive. Holden reminds everyone that he's a PROFESSIONAL producer by saying some crap about phrasing, breathing and control. Kyle tells her he doesn't want to see her jelly belly in a white t shirt. Everyone strains to see what tiny bulge of tum he might be referring to. Ken Doll calls him a chubscout, and Kyle says he'd be happy to get the ruler out. Hang on, exactly WHAT chub are we talking about here?

Moving on, thank goodness, to Chris Murphy. Having just taken a thick hit off his crack pipe, Sheridan THE GENIUS dresses him in a stretchy red head-to-toe jumpsuit that even Jack White would struggle to pull off. (I wouldn't struggle to pull it off Jack White, but that's another story). Thankfully he opts for a more sensible outfit for his performance, which is some song by The Darkness. It's like Meatloaf meets Jack Black in neon spandex with glitter hairspray. It's strangely awesome. I wish I were in a country pub with a whole jukebox full of Chris Murphy's Greatest Hits. We realise again, that he is grouse.

Holden says he's digging it, and tells Meatloaf to watch out. Marcia says something about having lunch with his family, and tells him his wife looks beautiful. If she hasn't found her medication yet, she's clearly scored herself some uppers from somewhere. Kyle agrees with Mark and pretends to be annoyed by it, even though he agrees with him every week.

Then there's Lavina I'M EMILY'S SISTER, YOU KNOW, EMILY FROM LAST YEAR'S IDOL? SHE'S ON THAT DIVA TOUR NOW, YEAH HER, SHE'S MY SISTER Williams. She tells us her style is "tracksuits" because "you can wear a tracksuit absolutely anywhere if you accessorise and glam it up."

Yeah, see?

She comes on in a hoodie and dark eye makeup, singing Evanescence. She looks like she'd beat you up while her boyfriend broke into your flat and stole your CDs before taking off in his Skyline. Mummy, hold me. But then she throws off the hood with a triumphant grunt, and kicks into the chorus - and bloody hell, she's alright. She rocks. Even when she sings a dodgy note we don't care, we just want more. She is AWESOME. And then it's all over, and she does that tiresome Williams sister humble act. Sigh. Whatever.

Marcia experiences a glitch in the Matrix and says something again about working the room. Holden says it sounded like the next rock opera hit, and no one's sure if that's supposed to be a compliment or a criticism. Then Captain Obvious reminds us that it's up to viewers to determine if she'll be the next idol. Kyle says he wants to admit something, and we all hold our breath as we wait for confirmation of those pesky gay rumours, but he ruins it all by admitting something entirely different - that he thought Lavina was crap until tonight. Oh well, there's 11 shows to go.

Thank GOD it's the last act, Dean Geyer. Unsurprisingly, Sheridan dresses him in a black jacket and shirt with jeans. Unsurprisingly, he looks hot. He sings yet another bogan anthem, Shimmer, but again it's the kind of bogan anthem you love to secretly sing to in the shower, or in the car, or in bed late at night when you're awake thinking about Dean... ahem. Sorry about that. Once again he shows off his camera skills, staring deep into the barrell on every shot and mesmerising his audience. Or is he just transfixed by his own reflection in the lens? Who wouldn't be. The final note is dodgy in the extreme, but luckily for him it's drowned out by screaming gay men and teenage girls.

Holden says it's under the note. He says it should be in the centre of the note. Then he asks for some grunt and grunge. Everyone in the audience agrees that getting some grunt from Dean would be rather nice, actually. Marcia reaches into her book of stock phrases, turns to page 124 and tells him he needs to be himself. Kyle says he needs to work on his voice, because apart from that "everything is ready to rock". Yeah, we know, he's hot.

Phew, and so we come to the end of another mammoth show! Thank god they're getting rid of someone every week or this blog could be the death of me.

Monday night's result: Reigan gets the arse. No one is surprised.


  1. Coldplay are softcore! Da coolest thing eva to come out of oz idol is lee harding. Andrew G is pretty cool but not as cool as Axle. Shannon Noll smokes pole. Word?

  2. ahh. That was lovely. I agree with everything you say except Ricky and the lying awake thinking about doing things to Dean parts.

  3. Marcia delivers her trademark eubonics with a "Go ahead wit yo bad self!" Everyone checks their watches to see if they're in a New York ghetto in 1983, but the results are inconclusive.

    Hahahahahaha! ... fantastic.

    And that is why I come back here all the time.

  4. ok, my confession time. sunday night as i was laying in bed i called deans voting line so i could listen to his cute south african accent because I AM SAD AND LAME AND HE IS SO SO DREAMY


    ps, another brilliant wrap up

  5. I can totally see Mutto moving to India and starting some kind of western intensity cult. Loooook Intoooo My Eyeeeesssss...

  6. Yay! Idol wrap ups are back! We expect you to just put your social life on hold for the next 11 weeks so you don't miss an episode :)

  7. lisa's style is .... in a nutshell SPORTSGIRL! she is the new face of sportsgirl or i will eat my loose fitting tapestry vest!

    Bobby - so awesome so awesome. although he needs to sing a faster song next time.

  8. Forget social life - I'll have to put my SLEEP on hold if I'm going to keep this shit up for the next two and a half months.

  9. I surfed on in to your blog and I think your wrap up is funny and pretty much spot on. Moira

  10. Oh also - I'm pretty sure it was Mark who said Lisa was TBTTCOOTCM. Ummm, slight overstatement perhaps???

  11. Thanks Moira - but it was definitely Kyle. check it out

  12. Top stuff. Agree with everything except your opinion of Bobby (he's appalling) and your spelling of "ebonics".