After a recap of last night’s 12 performers in the preceding hour–proving the damn show need only last that long–we’re back on the Radio City Music Hall stage live at 9 PM EST on NBC. In this hour, we’ll see just four of last night’s acts advance. You could cut the tension with one of Heidi’s hip bones.
Nick commented to CBS News that he wants a band to win, since it’s “never happened on any reality competition” (except for The Next Great American Band, but maybe he doesn’t watch Fox). Asked how the judges are getting along now that two new ones have been added to the mix, he says that their chemistry is “pretty organic and authentic.” This marks the 6,478, 321, 938th time those exact words have been used by a person who didn’t know what else to say that would appear both positive and intellectual.
The show begins with footage of the judges’ press junkets, including ringing the opening bell at the stock exchange. Good budgeting plan, AGT. Just pay those other shows for their production work and call it a day.
Nick, in a lipstick-red suit, announces that “tuchas” trended worldwide last night. While we prefer to be acknowledged for our achievements in science, literature, and the arts, that’s not too bad for the Jews. Next they kill some time interviewing a group of kids about their impressions of the show. The tots prove to be no less insightful than the average TV critic or guest on Howard’s radio show.
In the “Talent Suite,” which is understatedly decorated with giant Snapple cups, Nick chats with last night’s performers. We learn that Collins Key has attained his goal of hearth-throb status, which helps explain why Anna Christine is such a morose tween.
Next, a performance by a guy named Labrinth and Emeli Sande, who has blue hair. It’s like their parents just solved a Junior Jumble before having a child. Then we learn that there is also an Orville Redenbacher Lounge, where everyone hangs out and eats popcorn to decompress after the show. No doubt Nick has “Kia” tattooed on his forearm, too.
Finally, some results. Herdini, Kevin Downey, Jr., and Aaralyn & Izzy step to the front of the stage first. It turns out that none of them are going forward. Howard feels worst for Alexanderia the Great, but surprisingly, it’s not because they made the woman wear her bathing suit for this moment.
Next to learn their fates are Special Head, who had to repaint his scalp for this occasion, Fresh Faces, and Hype. The girls would do better to go home and get their Ritalin doses adjusted. Again, they’re all given the kibosh. Howie claims this is unprecedented. In my experience, though, six really bad acts on one show is fairly common.
tellAvision, Collins Key, and the KriStef Brothers come forward now to await decision on two of the still-open four slots. If Key is out, he will have to schedule an extra session with his psychotherapist during the week.
First, it’s the steroidal Leo Sayer and Julian Sands who will be taking their Spandex to the semi-finals. After the commercial break, designed to build tension while selling us cars and frozen pizza, we find out that the next act moving on is Collins Key, the Tiger Beat Prestidigitator. I suspect his real name is Kalinsky.
Finally, Branden James, Anna Christine, and the American Hitmen are lined up. If only Anna had been disabled or a cancer survivor. Her branding just isn’t strong enough when up against a finally-gay-accepting mom and a gaggle of war vets.
Branden is the first to get the pat on the back. He thanks America for believing in him. Personally, I would prefer people vote for me because they enjoyed my singing.
So who gets the fourth and final slot? We tremble with anticipation, and also because we’re hungry for a snack. The judges fill a few minutes talking about which act they think did a better job last night, not that it makes any difference at this point. But there’s no time for a commercial break and it gives the director another opportunity to showcase the Snapple cups.
Then, as the credits roll, Nick tells us it’s Anna Christine! Hmph, this and Lee DeWyze. Come off it, America.
See you next week!