A singing superstar is born on hit American Idol
By Nick Kemp

    We all know what to expect from summer TV; hours of syndication interspersed with crappy spin-offs and lifeless off-season series. But once in a while the summer will produce a real hit (e.g., Survivor), and this summer hit hard. American Idol, a glammed-up Star Search for the 21st century is based on (like all of today’s self-respecting reality shows) a British program called Pop Idol. Sweeping youth pop culture for the last three months, Idol has caught America’s attention with its glittery style, flashy performances, and love/hate personae.

    Most of you (whether or not you’re willing to admit it) are already well-versed in the ways of American Idol, but for those of you who spent the summer in Bangladesh, here’s a quick review of the show’s inner workings:

    It all started with a seven-city national tour searching for the

Photo courtesy Idolonfox.com

First runnerup, crowd pleaser Justin Guarini

next big star. Clips of the best and worst of these sessions were aired in late July.

    From the over 30,000 young men and women who came out to audition, a mere 300 were selected and flown to Los Angeles for the next round of qualifications. The pool was further reduced to thirty semi-finalists, broken into three groups of ten would-be pop stars.

    Here, the going got rough. One group was reviewed each week in an hour-long primetime episode which showcased each contestant performing a song that they felt best showed off their talent and style.

    Each performance was then evaluated by a panel of three celebrity (or at least quasi-celebrity) judges. At the end of each episode, toll-free phone lines were opened up for two hours so that America could call in and vote for their favorites. After the three weeks were up, a shorter episode was aired announcing the nine finalists.

    One wildcard finalist was also chosen: seventeen-year-old R. J. who quickly became a crowd favorite, if not for his talent than for the sympathy points he won for his underdog status in the bunch.

    The following week the show took on it’s structure for the rest of the season, with only ten contestants left in the running. Every Tuesday night at 9, an hour-long episode featured the performances of all the remaining performers. Once again telephone voting was opened up in the evening to get input from the viewer audience.

    The following night, a half-hour long episode announced who would be staying and who was packing their bags for home (the first week two contestants were voted off and one per week after that). By the final episodes, aired on Sept. 3 and 4, a last battle to end all battles ensued.

    In theory, the format of the show allowed for a fair, democratic election of whom America felt could be its next big idol. But, like in all things left up to the masses, sex and politics got in the way. America succeeded in following the advice of the judges and weeding out the people who really shouldn’t have been there early on (James, E.J., A.J., and Ryan), but from there on it got sticky.

    Justin, the sexy, young favorite of most of the teen and pre-teen girls who make up much of American Idol’s viewing pool, managed to make it to the final two (despite his questionable talent).

    Nikki, the offbeat, pink-haired Texas punkstress, drew the votes of America’s nonconformists to make it to

Photo courtesy Idolonfox.com

Winner, sweetheart Kelly Clarkson

the top three (despite her seriously questionable talent). R. J. rode the sympathy wave way past his due, causing the talented Christina to be voted off before her time. But probably the biggest shock and travesty was the booting of Tamyra, arguably the best singer and performer of the bunch, with three weeks to go.

    The other superstar of the show, the lovable Kelly, made it right where she deserved- all the way to the top. But hey, don’t feel too sorry for any of the other nine “losers,” because all ten are going on tour together across America, appearing on television and radio, and probably making quite a hefty sum.

    The costumes were great,and the singing was top quality, but what really made American Idol a gem were the judges. Randy Jackson, a big time pop producer, despite his intimidating appearance, proved to be downright cuddly and quick to offer compliments. Paula Abdul, the real celebrity of the bunch, on took on a motherly role, never saying one negative thing despite how questionable the performance. Simon Cowell, a British label executive and cofounder of Fanfare Records, earned a reputation early on for being a jerk but indeed only proved to be brutally honest, giving credit where credit was due and utilizing his skewering Old World wit everywhere else. Here’s how the show typically went:

Non-Tamyra/Kelly Contestant: Lalala. Strut, strut, strut. Bow.
Audience: Whooooo!!! (Wild Applause) You rock non-Tamyra/Kelly contestant!!!
Randy Jackson: Nice song choice; you really made that your own.
Paula Abdul: Wow! That was fabulous; you are fabulous! I have three words for you: phe-nome-nal!
Simon Cowell: Exactly the kind of comment I’d expect from an overpaid belly dancer. That was bloody awful.     Go back to your high school choir.
Audience: Boooooo!!! We’ll be outside your trailer later with chainsaws!!!

    Let’s face it. Reality shows hardly ever reflect reality. At least American Idol provided a peek into the superficial and ferociously unfair world of show business. Because, hey, I know that my top qualification when choosing an idol is nice hair.