Brief, spoilery thoughts on last night’s American Idol elimination coming up… after the break!
America, I’m told you occasionally read this blog. Let’s have a chat. What were you thinking, America? Or what were you not thinking? Look, I had no illusions about Amanda Overmyer. She was a little gimmicky. She had a pretty limited range. She was a little stiff in performance. She was never going to win this season of American Idol. But I certainly didn’t think you were going to kick her to the curb this week, when she turned in one of the few decent performances of a blighted Beatles Week.
I mean, there was so much to choose from this week, America! Kristy Lee turning You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away into some kind of grim, country James Bond theme? Ramiele doing a performance straight out of the Little Miss Sunshine pageant? Michael Johns—and I realize there’s a talented singer in there somewhere—confusing not two but three different verses of A Day in the Life?
If it were simply Amanda’s one-trick-poniness, I could understand, America–but then you could have offed her last week, for a worse performance. No, it was something more, and I think, America, that you disliked Amanda for the same reason that I liked her: more than any contestant I have ever seen make the finals, Amanda did not seem to enjoy being on American Idol one damn bit.
Amanda’s demeanor on stage–any time that she was not actually singing–varied from a stiff, forced-grin cheer to downright glumness. She seemed to genuinely enjoy performing, but that was it. It didn’t go unnoticed, and when you even have Simon Cowell coaxing you, “You can smile, you know!” like a mom at a family-picture shoot, you know you’ve got trouble.
What was up with her? Why did she seem to be having such a lousy time? Maybe it was personal. Maybe it was just an illusion. But I’d like to believe that she ultimately realized she didn’t fit in, and couldn’t acclimate to the cheesiness that is the American Idol finals. You could tell in the opening group melody that she didn’t fit in musically; she was basically shunted off until she got to sing the final line from The End. And there was a beautiful moment in that corny, Up With People revue where Amanda plastered a frozen smile on her face, an uncomfortable, pointedly fake smile that clearly said—and I’m sorry, there is no family-friendly way to honestly articulate this—This is bullsh_t.
OK, I can see why you wouldn’t like that, America. (Though you also, conversely, put in the bottom three Carly Smithson, whose hunger to win is so obvious it’s excruciating.) And as I said, I have no illusions Amanda was close to good enough to win. But every season we have a dozen finalists, give or take, who are willing to be cheerful and compliant through every promotional hoop that Idol makes them jump. It was nice to have Amanda up there as a surrogate, her every pout or stiff smile articulating the embarrassment even loyal viewers sometimes feel at Idol’s hokiness.
But I that’s not what wins you this vote, am I right, America? People will occasionally forgive you not deserving to win American Idol. But as Amanda learned, they will not forgive you not wanting to win American Idol.