But what bothered me most about the finale was the inconsistency regarding the closeness of the race. First, host Ryan Seacrest said we were “a country divided,” and explained that of the 24 million votes that had been received the night before, only 13,000 separated the two finalists. As if that weren’t already a little far-fetched, later in the evening, Ryan corrected himself, blaming a “drunk” accountant, saying there were actually only 1,300 votes between the guys. And then, once the show was over, news reports had the number at 130,000.
Now I know live television is hard, and the execs at Fox have been under a lot of pressure. But if you’re gonna force fans to sit through two hours of self-promotional gimmicks before finally revealing the champion, at least check your math.
Let’s talk for a bit about the filler that fans had to endure. After Monday night’s added-at-the-last-minute special on Aiken and Studdard as well as Tuesday night’s usual hourlong show, Fox still chose to turn its normally 30-minute Wednesday-night recap program into a 120-minute “Idol”-athon. What brilliant producer asked for yet more shots of screaming fans in Raleigh, N.C., or Birmingham, Ala.–the finalists’ home towns? Did we really need a sunglasses-clad Clive Davis handing Kelly Clarkson her Recording Industry Association of America award for selling 1 million units of her CD, “Thankful”? Why ask Aiken to sing “Bridge Over Troubled Water” and Studdard to do “Flying Without Wings” again for the second night in a row? And why exactly did the opening credits repeat, at 8:54 p.m.?!
Some things worked, however. The medley with Aiken and Studdard singing with a group of the rejected “Idol” finalists, while clearly an advertisement for the upcoming 39-city tour, proved enjoyable, despite the inclusion of Lionel Ritchie’s “Hello.” Can anyone do “Over the Rainbow” better than Kimberley Locke? If she had a CD in stores right now, I’d buy it. But hey, where was Marine Josh Gracin? He was back to active duty, but hey, they couldn’t give him a night off for the finale?
Another high point: The skit in which Simon Cowell and Paula Abdul finally revealed their love for each other, feeding each other strawberries and whipped cream and making out while “Love to Love You Baby” played? Pure genius. Nothing beats celebrities poking fun at the tabloid tales that have been written about them. (It also should be noted that I did not miss the judges at all last night. They barely had a role, and I was glad. I’ve grown tired of Jackson and Abdul’s repetitive nonsense after each performance.)
What I liked most was the flashbacks to the terrible auditions. I’ve greeted the beginnings of both seasons with sick pleasure: that’s when the three judges listen to wanna-be stars with warbling voices, terrible clothes and confidence built on sheer delusion. I could watch a whole hour or two just of those.
Note to Fox: Please, just don’t put that special on just yet. You obviously need a little break. And frankly, so do we.
