goodbye-rambutan

Last night, wee Ramiele Malubay was tearfully ejected from the American Idol universe, bringing an end to my ability to call her Rambutan week in and week out. It’s a joke that I think only me and my friend Jash ever laughed at, but laugh we did, and now America’s little Filipino is gone — off to a rousing five year circuit of gay bars and parade floats. It was her time to go. While she was great in the semi-finals, the big stage swallowed her up, and she never quite brought the confidence or originality that her early performances promised. It’s all for the best though. Rambutan was starting to get a bit too precious for my tastes — what with her oversized t-shirts, her constant hugging, her clutched hands over her heart, and her big doe-eyes. She left at just the right time.
Of course, there’s never a results show without Rambutan shedding enough tears to fill a small bathtub, and so it should be no surprise that when it finally came time for her ouster, the waterworks were more excessive than even the heartiest Danny Noriega farewell could summon. Poor Rambutan cowered for ages in the arms of Kristy Lee Cook, who just barely made the cut once again. It should be noted that Kristy took a step in the right direction last night by wearing a top that was halfway youthful. However, whatever progress she made was undermined by her pitiful attempt at humor. You know what I’m talking about: that lame “Kristy’s Chair” gag she had. In case you missed it while you were fast forwarding, Kristy ambled onto the stage with a little note that said “Kristy’s Chair” or “Kristy’s Seat.” It was intended to reflect her penchant for always landing in the bottom three, but instead, it just seemed strange. I mean, I really didn’t get the joke. What was she going to do with that note? Put it on the stool? Because THAT’s funny…


I actually thought Kristy was pretty good this week. In fact, pretty much everyone was pretty good. Michael Johns by far had the best performance of Tuesday night, once again giving me hope that his fading status has been revived by two super strong weeks in a row. He’s got the confidence now, and I’m hoping that it will take him to the top. David Archuletta was also effectively powerful with his ballad. I know that’s a shock — David doing a ballad —  but despite his knack for dreariness, he pulled it off. When he got high praises from the judges, he returned to “Aww shucks” mode, and unsurprisingly, when Ryan later asked him about the song on the results show, David praised it for having such a great message. Dammit, David. You’re not running for some honorary post at the United Nations. LIGHTEN UP.
Speaking of lightening up, David Cook was both lighter and darker this week. Lighter because he wore a bright white shirt. Darker because he seemed to have dunked himself in a bottle of bronzer come Wednesday night. He was pretty good (there’s that phrase again), but he didn’t blow me away. I, like Paula, was happy to see that his hair seemed a bit more contained and NOT AWFUL on Tuesday, but it was back to it horrific ways by the time the results show came around. Sigh. Why, David? Why? Why must you make it so hard for me to like you?
Also clocking in a decent performance was Brooke White, who kicked off Tuesday’s show with her take on Jolene. I liked her folksy style and whatnot, but it wasn’t a knockout — always a dangerous problem when you’re first up on the roster. It’s no wonder then that she wound up in the bottom three for the first time. I have to say, the losers circle does not suit her well. Brooke, I’ve discovered, is a terrible cryer. Her nose gets all red, wrinkles suddenly form around her eyes, and she just looks like a mess — especially in HD. Plus, being in the bottom three gives her another chance to say annoying things — like the way she babbled on about the violin player last night. Look, I like you Brooke, but sometimes you just have to shut up.
Speaking of irritating, I’d be loathe not to mention Syesha Mercado, the only girl with the balls / idiocy to take on The. Biggest. Dolly. Song. EVER. You know what I’m talking about: “I Will Always Love You.” It was a daring move for Syesha, who decided to mix the tender Dolly version with the robust Whitney remake. The results? Mixed. I’m gonna put myself out there and say that I thought it was really great. Yeah, she’s not Whitney, but I really liked the arrangement, and she certainly hit those big notes at the end well. Plus, I liked how she just held onto that one note forever. It was probably a bit indulgent, as Simon would say, but I liked that she went balls to the wall. I only wish she’d gotten off of that damn piano. Seriously, how do you get to that part of the song and refrain from jumping down onto the stage and being a superstar?
Unfortunately for Syesha, the judges weren’t happy with the performance. Randy and Paula gave her positive marks, but not ecstatic ones. Simon, however, was harsher, deducting points for her not being Whitney. The next night, Ryan asked Syesha if taking on the song was daunting, and she hesitated before giving a muddled answer. Translation: “I wasn’t daunted by it, but I don’t want to seem cocky about it, especially since no one liked it.”
Also getting unfairly bruised by Simon was Jason Castro, whose take on Dolly’s Oscar nominated song from Transamerica was rousing, engaging, and pretty much awesome. Paula and Randy loved it, but leave it to Simon to announce that he just didn’t get it. What gives, Simon? How are we on such a different page tonight?
Last but not least, we also have Carly, who full-on thought she’d be in the bottom three tonight. She did an R&B-ish take on her Dolly tune, and as usual, she was very good. But this was a sort of forgettable performance. The only thing worth mentioning about it was Simon’s critique: that she get some better clothes. You could see Carly’s eyes well up with a flash of rage, but she repressed that Irish temper and took the note in stride. Truth be told, Simon was right. Carly often looks sort of terrible — kind of like an IRA pipe bomb went off in her closet, and whatever garments landed on her was what she wore to set. That was forced. I apologize. I just couldn’t work in any good potato famine jokes this week.
Overall, it was a solid, if forgettable week of Idol. Dolly Parton was a pleasant addition to the gang, and despite her increasingly grotesque appearance and her Jesus-heavy song on Wednesday, I still enjoyed her presence. What did you think about this week?