It’s the fourth week of auditions for AGT, so join us tonight on NBC at 9 EST (again! They’re testing us!) for the usual scathing commentary, astute analysis, and frantic corrections of misspelled words.
I’m going to go out on a limb and predict that the show will feature 1) people with dreams, 2) good singers who are not conventionally attractive, 3) cute kids supposedly rooting for their daddies, but actually completely mystified as to where they are, and 4) crying. Although 4) may well be coming from me by the end of the two hours.
If you’re curious where the acts stand to date, Kenichi Ebina‘s got nearly five and half million hits on YouTube–the most by far as of this morning. In fact, the robot dancer has significantly more views than any other performer this season. Otherwise, only Special Head is special shoulders above the rest, with more than a million views.
Darby, the miniscule cheerleader whose act consisted of being flung around like a sack of flour, is next with 250,000 hits. Meanwhile, the lady who repeatedly kicked stacks of bowls onto her head while riding a unicycle only got 230,000 views. That says something about our country’s declining value system. Or it says that 20,000 people haven’t figured out how YouTube works.
From the opening segment, it appears that people variously light their asses on fire, undress to reveal a Speedo, and abuse a cat tonight. Well, it’s Tuesday in New York City.
We kick off with a bunch of kids, called The Struck BoyZ, who are wearing black tank tops and camo pants. They’re from Staten Island. The boys, not the outfits. Their accents are from Saturday Night Fever. They’ll do a hip hop dance choreographed by Mistah Frankie and Miss Lindsay. It’s pretty regimental for hip-hop. I suspect Mistah Frankie has some issues to work through. Deese guise is goin’ to Veguss.
Kristopher and Stefan put their names together to become KriStef, not unlike Wal-Mart or DefCon. They do a hand-balancing act, which they consider revolutionary. Ah, youth. They’re as close as brothers, which they probably make a point of saying so no one will think they’re gay after seeing their act. They also come from circus families, which makes me picture Bozo coming home from the office and asking for a stiff drink. They do handstands on each other’s palms and knees and backs. They also strip down in between moves for no reason I can fathom other than sound marketing.
Now we have Aneya Marie, a singing mime–a paradox, indeed! She wears black lipstick–a poor fashion choice, indeed! She feels Mel, being from Europe, will understand her act best. I guess she thinks Heidi is from South America? She briefly does the “I’m stuck in a box” thing, then segues into a bouncy dance while poorly singing “White Rabbit.” After she is buzzed by the judges, including both non-Americans, she complains that she is brilliant and they didn’t understand her. That was true of Mozart, too, but he had the edge in that he knew not to wear black lipstick.
A bunch of joke acts, including Toonces the Driving Cat, are passed over next.
Now come some more dancers called Hammerstop who want to share the life-affirming joy of dance with whatever. They have rather non-life-affirming gas masks on. They explain that their act is “Irish dance meets hip-hop,” which is intriguing if only for the great costuming possibilities, but still doesn’t explain the gas masks. Nevertheless, the Lads from the Hood are going to Vegas. They’re followed by two more sets of dancers. America needs more plate spinners.
An illusionist is next, but we barely get to see him. He’s like an illusion.
Izzy and Aaralyn O’Neill, age 9 and 6, will perform after being unbearably cute in the preview. She sings and he plays drums. Howard asks if they are familiar with the Partridge Family. Then the little girl proceeds to scream gutterally like Ozzy Osbourne with bronchitis. Howard chose the wrong ’70’s cultural reference for these kids–should have gone with “The Exorcist.”
Now for a palate cleanser with the Viriginia State University Gospel Chorale. Nobody is wearing gas masks or black lipstick. They get into it with arm-flinging and clapping and twirling around. Howard says they make it so we want to go to church, which is something coming from a Jew. Howie insults the chorale by calling upon Mel’s expertise as “our music aficionado.” We get both a dream and crying in this round.
Now we move to LA. I wonder if Howie polishes his head.
Chris Antes does something called oralgami. Get those dirty thoughts out of your head. He “orally sculpts” chewing gum into shapes, presumably something other than “amorphous blob.” Approaching the judges’ table so they can see his tiny art being created, he grimaces and waggles his lips, then spits out two pieces that he claims are a dolphin and a snail as he presents them. Howie has a coronary. The artwork is stuck under a desk for posterity.
Brandon and Savannah, 15 and 13, are another set of singing siblings who give off a Donny and Marie vibe, only without so much Mormonism. They perform an original song that sounds exactly like every other song that’s popular with the kids these days. They’ll get nose jobs and their own Disney series, and in five years will be throwing bongs out of luxury high-rise windows.
Oh, ha, Heidi is polishing Howie’s head now in the make-up room.
Taylor, age 26, will perform a stand-up comedy act. He’s a whiny-voiced nebbish who claims he’s done his routine at a coffee shop, a laundromat, and similar saddening venues. So he’s being set up to be roasted like a suckling pig. Unfortunately, he leads off with a duvet joke, so that may be correct. But the audience likes him. Now he just needs to work on getting a smaller t-shirt to wear under his sweater because the bunching at the neckline is distracting.
Now we get another magician-stuntman named Jacob Calle, who brings out a scorpion in a box. He swallows some string to start, and then appears to pull it out of his stomach, which is less magic then just icky. Then he stuffs the scorpion in his mouth and blows soap bubbles with a wand. They’re just going to get angry calls from PETA.
Naathan Phaan appears wearing a straight jacket. He sings while getting out of it, Houdini-style. Fewer A’s would improve this act. The judges thought it was boring, so he does a card trick wherein he produces the card in question from inside his mouth. Beats having a scorpion in there. That they like, so he makes it to Vegas.
Finally, it’s the much-touted group of guys, Forte, who supposedly just met in person and formed an act in time for the show. Totally believable. One is from Puerto Rico, one from South Korea, and one from New York. They sing opera, so we can presume they met on a forum for amateur opera singers and practiced their performance on Skype. Still, they’re cute, and I like to see people troll AGT.
Well, that wraps up another exciting evening of talented, semi-talented, and untalented Americans famewhoring on national TV. Join us again next week for more of the same!