"Idol" Top 7

Yes, I know that most of you probably don't watch the show, but it's my blog. Delete this if you wish.

This week marked the first week for me that I believed every contestant deserved to be there. Call me a cruel, heartless beast, but so long as Scott McIntyre, the piano-playing, Billy Joel-idolizing, legally blind crooner got space on that stage, the less legitimate I believed the competition to be.

Choosing songs from films, the contestants were "mentored" by film director Quentin Tarantino. Not as counter-intuitive as one might think, by the way. He had nothing to provide from a musical perspective, but really honed in on their performance chops. Most of what they aired of his coaching I felt was pretty constructive and I looked forward to seeing if his notes found their way into the songs.

First let me preface this by stating that I positively loathed the song choices by every contestant. Sappy love ballads are very common in the movies, but for five of the contestants to go down that road made for an extremely boring show for me.

Sixteen-year old L.A. native Allison Iraheta, whose family hails from El Salvador, started off the show with Aerosmith's "I Don't Want to Miss a Thing" from the movie Armageddon. (I've never been a fan of the almighty Diane Warren, and I always believed that Aerosmith jumped the shark when they started letting others write songs for them.) Allison has a great husky voice that belies her tender age. It's always so hard to go first each week, because viewership is at its lowest point, so I hope what she did with the song, which was a lot, carries her through. Simon Cowell told her that she was the "only hope" for a girl to win the competition, and he's spot on. For her, however, I wanted to see something more uptempo. I thought "Life is a Highway," a great Tom Cochrane song that Rascal Flatts covered for Cars, would have been better for her.

Next up was one of my early faves, Anoop Desai, the Indian frat boy from North Carolina. He took on Bryan Adams' "Everything I Do, I Do It for You," featured in Robin Hood, Prince of Thieves. Anoop's become a competent balladeer in the past few weeks, having done very good jobs with "True Colors" and "You Were Always on My Mind." He didn't disappoint either, although I would have loved a mid-tempo like Peter Gabriel's "In Your Eyes" from Say Anything.

Los Angeles's own Adam Lambert, who has permanently broken free of the ensemble player roles he'd been getting his whole career, was next, and stole the show with Steppenwolf's "Born to Be Wild," from Easy Rider. Like so many other weeks before, he took the song to a new level as he took his gargantuan instrument into dog whistle territory. I felt his performance gets a bit over the top when he goes there over and over. Plus, I frickin' hate that song. My wife and I agree, however, that he's so far ahead of the rest they should just end the season now and give him the title. Just put the rest out of their misery. My pick for him tonight would have been Mr. Mister's "Stand and Deliver" from the movie of the same name.

Michigan's Matt Giraud, who plays a mean piano and sings his melismatic ass off, picked "Have You Ever Really Loved a Woman," another Bryan Adams ballad from Don Juan DeMarco. (You see what I mean? Aren't these overly sweet songs like musical Twinkies?) The melody is a bit dreary for me, so I was happy that he took some liberties with it. The judges disagreed. Here's when I get pissed -- the comments seem so designed to engineer a specific voting response. In other words, the producers don't think Matt has a shot at the finals, so the judges' comments are unduly harsh and plant the seed that Matt's day are numbered. Still, he pretty much telegraphed that he feels over his head when he told Ryan Seacrest before he started that his confidence level was wavering, so he can't just blame others for his eventual fate. Tear a page out of the Anoop playbook and project self-confidence even when you're up against it. The guy sings great blue-eyed soul, and I would have loved to hear him tackle "Try a Little Tenderness," the 1960s Otis Redding ballad that was so prominently featured in The Commitments.

Danny Gokey, AI's resident church boy, followed Matt with a reading of (gag) "Endless Love" from the movie (gag) Endless Love. (Pause for hurling. There... now I feel better.) Forget the fact that Milwaukee's Gokey is a widower at age 26 (can we, please?). Forget that the lyrics are personally meaningful for him. Tarantino directed him to try singing the song with his hands in his pockets so that he would use his hands less to convey the song's emotional core, so that he could deliver it with his eyes. Awesome direction for someone who understands framing a face to draw out the essential feelings present in a scene. Jesus, the guy even took off his trademark glasses for the first time. But what did he do? Not only did he overuse his hands to deliver the lyrics, he closed his eyes (or directed them to the floor) for most of the song, and then turned away from the camera during the song's emotional climax to play to the crowd of teen girls in the front row. He even let the musical director put a frickin' harpist on the stage with him! To borrow from Syndrome, the villain in The Incredibles, "Lame lame lame lame LAME!!!" His worst performance to date. I predicted he'd be in the finale with Adam, but now I'm thinking third place. My choice for him would have been something darker, like Aimee Mann's "Wise Up" from Paul Thomas Anderson's stunning film, Magnolia.

The penultimate singer was Kris Allen, an affable 23-year-old multi-instrumentalist from Arkansas. Give him props for having the only brave song choice, that being "Falling Slowly," from the indie film Once. Too bad he threw it away with a key that was too low for him and a performance that lay flat on its back. He had a moment near the end when he took a high note and delivered it well, but he hit the note late, behind the harmony singer, making him sound amateurish. Oh, well...he's so damn popular with the girls that he'll probably sail through despite the obscure song choice. Tarantino hinted that he should play an instrument to add impact; he failed to take that direction, and I think he suffered because of it. My choice for him would have been Elton John's "Tiny Dancer" which was so wonderfully used in Almost Famous.

The final, "pimp" spot was reserved for the only other woman in the competition, Lil Rounds. Despite having so many chances to shine in the past few weeks, she has not produced the kinds of results that her vocal promise would have one expect. Having the final spot on the show is a way to close it with a towering performance that sends voters rushing to the phones. Once again, singing Bette Midler's "The Rose," she squandered the opportunity, and I believe she'll go home tomorrow night. The judges sure agreed. For me, she started the song with a faithful homage to the song, then broke off in a gospel-tinged second half that was a jarring juxtaposition. There wasn't enough of a hint that it was coming (other than in the video preceding the performance), so there was a huge seam in the song that made it feel like two songs. Then, her biggest mistake: she took the bait from the judges and talked back to them. I think perhaps she knows she's not going to the finale, and this was her last chance to have her say. Girlfriend got a voice. She's got looks, she's got personality. But she doesn't know who she is. And she'll need some serious vocal and performance coaching before she can hit the big time. Same problem as Melinda Doolittle (third place in Season 6). My choice for her would have rocked the house, had it been done right: "Goldfinger" from the James Bond film.

So, if you've read this long post, you'll know how much I value this show as a mirror on American pop culture. These kids are so earnest in their quest for stardom, and the show doesn't pull punches. If they mess up, they're gone. This season, the producers went too far with the back stories, and I hope that next year they ditch the soap opera aspect and stick with what works: good kids, with lots of talent, singing their hearts out for 12 weeks until only one is left standing.

Bottom three: Lil, Matt, and either Kris or Anoop. Lil goes home.