Piers Morgan, Sharon Osbourne, and ”the legend that is David Hasselhoff,” (see: Knight Rider, Baywatch, and uh, YouTube) were back last night to judge another season of America’s Got Talent. Or: Some Americans Got Talent; Most Got Too Much Free Time. Finding a rare gifted gem amongst the sea of untalented masses is no easy feat. For every Neil E. Boyd, the insurance salesman/opera singer/future winner, there are a couple thousand like Bill B. Curlee, the Tom Jones impersonator otherwise known as Serious Mysterious. Don’t let the awesome nickname fool you. His voice wasn’t so much a voice as it was a noise violation.
America’s Got Talent reaffirmed the following American truths:
* We are suckers for slow motion music montages.
* We don’t care if kids have talent or not. Kids are adorable so itdoesn’t matter. During 4 year-old Kaitlyn Maher’s rendition of”Somewhere Out There,” I was so nervous she’d forget the words that Iwas mouthing them along with her. And how freaking cute was that littleaccordion player who, after getting booted, told the judges ”I did mybest”? If that didn’t make you “AWwW” out loud then you’re missing asoul.
* We got very poor grammar. Luckily it’s summer, the glorious time whengrammar rules are null and void, when reality programming hits you likea wall of humidity and you have no choice but to sit paralyzed in front ofa TV and a fan and let the record-breaking temperatures and new networkprograming make you a little insane.
I don’t know if it was the heat or Jonathan Burkin twirlingfire-shooting batons, but I thoroughly enjoyed last night’s two hourseason premiere extravaganza. Even host Jerry Springer was fun –his legitimate concern that 80 year-old Mary Bly would tap dance rightoff the stage was both heartfelt and hilarious. (Don’t go near theedge… don’t let her go near the edge…someone get her away from thatedge?!!) The bad acts were horrifically bad: Nick stopped by toshow off his freakishly long tongue. Harold painted his face white andhad a seizure. A Singing Santa Claus and a dance troupe of zombiesanxiously waited for their chance to waste the judges’ time.
But thereal deals were there, too: Nuttin’ but Stringz (violin playin’,beat boxin’, R+B brothers), Extreme Dance FX (psychedelic Riverdance),and even Jonathan Arons (toot-toot beep-beep dancer disguised as aboring trombone player) were all entertaining, or bloody brilliant, orbarking mad to watch.
Note to women planning to try out in the future: Give yourself or yourgroup a provocative name (i.e. Slippery Kittens), wear as littleclothing as possible, rip off what little clothing you’re wearing whileon stage, and you will undoubtedly get the Hoff’s approval. You’regoin’ to Vegas, baby!
So who were your favorite acts? Does America have talent? And riddle methis: If Piers is the Simon and Sharon is the Paula, what would be theHoff’s American Idol equivalent? You’d think Randy, but I’d say more of a Simon/Paula hybrid.