I must shamefacedly admit that only this week did Mimosa and I actually watch the Idol finale. (Um, we're busy?) We're very excited that Jordin won—the first year EVER that I've actually voted for the winner! (I didn't watch Kelly/Justin, and I've picked wrong ever since—ding, dong, the streak is dead! Maybe.)
But now we've seen it, and what a spectacle it was. Though I also have some thoughts about all the season-enders I watched. It's sunny, let's share!
I liked how the finale opened, Blake and Jordin and "I Saw Her Standing There" and their sweet little kiss at the end. So cute! Mimosa's comment: "I saw them kiss in her dressing room." Ooh! Le scandale!
You know what I didn't like? The 24 finale. Lame season, desperately lame final two hours. What a disappointing use of James Cromwell, whom I love. And where was the big reveal, i.e., that Jack is the father of that cute little blond boy, rather than Baldy? Very disappointing. And I could not give a rat's patootie about that cold fish Audrey Raines; I so hope we're done with her (though I love William Devane; I'm fine with his character hanging around. I enjoy an actor having fun onstage, and Mr. Devane always brings a party). Wifey, Nina, Audrey, what a dull group of ladyfriends Jack's had. I liked the redhead he was shacked up with a few seasons back, though she's a football coach's wife in Texas now, I'm holding no hope of seeing her again. Next season, I am definitely playing the "Dammit, Chloe!" drinking game!
Back to Idol. Mimosa and I fast-forwarded through Gwen Stefani, forgive us. Then we got all giddy when we realized that Ryan was introducing Kelly, and I misted up, thinking about her journey—she's come a long way, baby. And what a hot outfit! Mimosa: "Those boots are not good for P.E." True, that.
We fast-forwarded through the flippin' Golden Idols, aka, Parade o' Freaks. Insulting. Demeaning. Time-wasting. Bring on the Idolettes, for pity's sake! Enough with the nonsense!
I also don’t care whether CSI's Sara is dead or not, as I am squarely in the "Grissom Belongs with Lady Heather" camp. However, I'm even more squarely in the "Let's See More of Scantily Clad Warrick and Catherine" camp. My friend Diva V-luscious says she can't get into Warrick and Catherine, they're too gorgeous; it's like watching the Prom King and Queen frolic, yawn. She likes Grissom and Sara because they're more lumpy and normal-looking. Which I think is a good point, except for the part where I totally disagree, I can't get enough of Warrick. As I may have mentioned, only the dust on my TV screen keeps me from jumping up and kissing his likeness. My best friend Lady Darcy actually made me a Gary Dourdan Christmas ornament, and I believe I'm the only Lady in the world to boast such a thing. Well, except Gary Dourdan's mother, maybe.
And Idol again. FINALLY, we see someone more than tangentially connected to this year's show: The Boys Are Back in Town! And . . . dear Chris Sligh seems to have found all the weight he lost. Too bad. Phil still sounds great to me, I'm absurdly pleased to see "Sanjaya!," and Brandon—woo! How he wants me! Simmer, Brandon. Then Smokey, and oh my goodness, how I love Smokey, even more when I don't actually look at him, because his alien underwater eyes are now just a bit scary.
We fast-forwarded through Blake doing whatever he was doing. Me and Mimosa, we're not so much fans of the current modern songs of today. This is why we watch Idol, for heaven's sake.
Something else I watch: Lost. And by jingo, was that a crackin' good finale or what? And we must wait YEARS for the next installment! Bye-bye, little hobbit—as my friend Young Henry said re: the death of Gary in thirtysomething, "I got to have all the excitement of a main character dying, without the sadness of actually liking that character." Sorry, Charlie. And who's in the casket? Can it be Sawyer? (Who else would Jack emphatically describe as "not a friend"?) But then who is Kate scurrying home to? Oh! Such excitement awaits! (years from now)
Back to Idol, and our female Idolettes. Finally! Mimosa was so excited about seeing Stephanie (her first favorite) again. And now, three hours into this interminable show, there's Stephanie, looking adorable and soloing for nine seconds. All right! And how cute is my Gina, even in that sack dress? And . . . goodness, it's Hayley Scarnato and her wonder crotch. Wow. I had actually forgotten her. Gladys Knight = all kinds of awesome, and I loved how awed and humbled Melinda looked, this time in the proper context.
A whole lot of nonsense followed (though I did like Simon crossing his fingers when he and Ryan were up for an award, though we fast-forwarded through the rest of it—so sad! so desperately sad!)—Sanjaya, crying girl, Joe Perry's chest hair ("What do you think of all this, Mimosa?" Mimosa: "I don’t . . . know"), and just about now it really hits me: What in the holy heck is going on? This show is supposed to be about (1) the winner, and (2) the other contestants we fell in love with this year, also the boy contestants. (Ha! I kid.) Why are we watching Green Day? Why are we singing Beatles songs, since (spoiler!) Paul McCartney does NOT make like Prince, even though I began to get my hopes up? Bette flippin' Midler? I DO NOT GET WHAT THEY ARE DOING. Why have we seen the Idolettes for barely five minutes? What is going on?
Almost as shockingly confusing was the Heroes finale—holy cow, are both brothers dead? I looooooved them! And that's huge—after playing whiny pretentious Jess, I never thought I'd like Milo Ventimiglia in anything. But the essential sweetness of Peter won me over. And Nathan—steely cold perfection. The show will miss them both.
Back to Idol. Okay, I am no Taylor fan, but I thought he looked good, way less spastic than before, and he sounded fine. Mimosa and Li'l Martini (joining us briefly) were less impressed. Mimosa: "He sounds okay." Li'l Martini: "A little dumb." Okay, and then Taylor began to spazz out, because he's Taylor, and no one should write another word about how weird Phil looks, because Taylor is now the definition of weird-looking, all buggy eyes and contorted features. He sounds great, but he is a freaky-lookin' freak.
And now it's more Beatles stuff, as Sgt. Pepper teaches the band to play and Kelly Clarkson . . . does a sort of jig, I don't know what else to call it. Mimosa: "I thought Kelly Clarkson was soft rock. This is . . . rock. Just rock." I am very excited to see the four previous Idols, and no I do not miss that grinning clown Fantasia, not a wee little bit. Taylor sounds great again (Mimosa: "Now THIS is hot. It's slow, but it's hot."). The Ruben-Jordin duet is sublime. Just loved every bit of this.
And something else I loved every single bit of: the Gilmore Girls finale, which was perfection on a plate. Only if Lauren Graham stepped out of my TV to give me a hug could it have been improved upon. Loved it.
It's Idol again, and we have our results: Jordin is officially America's sweetheart, blow me down, and she sings that very silly song very prettily and looks very pretty, and America chose well, I think, for all the reasons Mrs. Cynicletary outlined so brilliantly below. A more or less satisfying conclusion to a somewhat disappointing season.
Which could also be said of Veronica Mars, I suppose—awesome series, disappointing final season. I wish they'd been better-prepared for the series finale; we're left with one heapin' heap of unfinished business. TV movie in our future? Fingers crossed!!
So there you have it—the final blog of the finale, finally. See you in January!
Lady Chardonnay (today's look: Teatime Junior Miss) OUT.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
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