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Since mid-week, the American Idol Experience at Disney's Hollywood Studios
has been soft-opened slowly, bit by bit, ramping up to a full day's
schedule. Sunday was the first day of a scheduled grand finale show, though
unscheduled finales had been added a few times in the days past. Even on
Sunday, there were only four "regular" shows instead of the seven that will
probably run once the cast and crew have hit their stride. I have to say, if
there were any glitches whatsoever, I didn't notice them. Kudos to the
professionals putting on the show.
But more on them later. Let's cut to the heart of the matter: how is it?
Well, I left my first show (the 12:00 Sunday show) thinking "that was better
than I expected. I had expected a train wreck, but it was merely mediocre."
I left my second show (the 7:00 Sunday finale) thinking "that was
phenomenal, and color me impressed." But over the next few minutes, a
creeping realization came over me that it's possible (not "for sure", not
even "likely," but it is "possible") that we were snookered in that finale
show, and if that turns out to be true, I'm going to be disappointed. What
exactly I'm referring to is going to take some explanation.
We saw seven finalists. Three of the finalists were brilliant, with
inspiring voices and commanding volumes. Each of them sent at least a small
chill down my spine, and I'm not a "music person" in the least. The other
four were mediocre. All tried hard, but they had what I would characterize
unscientifically as "karaoke voices": off-key or off-pitch every so often,
especially when changing registers. Put simply, they had a hard time hitting
the difficult notes.
I should list the names, in case anyone's reading who was at Sunday's
finale. Nicole (our winner from 12:00), Elie, Troy, and Kelsie were the four
obvious amateurs. Tim, Lisa, and Abilen were the clear standouts. I would
have been happy with any of the three standouts winning, and indeed Abilen
won. She really did have the silky, sultry, mature voice of "Miley Aguilera"
as one of the judges called her.
I had very positive impressions after my
first finale show of Idol.
So far, so good. I left the theater pumped, my thoughts already forming
about how I'd write a scintillating review. On our way out, I asked an Idol
CM why there were seven finalists even though there were only four shows
that day. "They were strong auditions from late in the day that the
producers thought deserved a chance," she said. Oh, I thought, and filed the
factoid away mentally.
A few seconds later, the winner Abilen crossed my path, heading down
Sunset Blvd with her other young (perhaps 19 years old?) friends. They were
not particularly rejoicing as you might expect. You might not have known
that she had just won a major contest.
Shortly after seeing Abilen, my mind flashed back to something they had
boomed out over the loudspeaker as the show started: during these preview
days, Cast Members were still allowed to participate, and no one would win
the big prize until the actual grand opening. I suddenly felt like the Bruce
Willis character in Sixth Sense as other puzzle pieces flashed past my
consciousness in quick succession: there were four shows and four mediocre
finalists; CMs might be in the show tonight; there were three people added
without taking part in the normal lineup of shows, and here was the ultimate
winner, not only failing to celebrate particularly, but even heading off
down a dead-end street despite the fact that the park was closed 45 minutes
ago… was she maybe a Cast Member, going off backstage?
This isn't just idol (er, idle) musings; it actively matters just how
much of the finale show was staged. If the three good singers turned out to
be Cast Member plants, then we're looking at an "honest" show of just four
mediocre talents. And hence my dilemma as a reviewer. If the one scenario
(no CM plants; and taking at face value that these were just "late adds" and
not ringers), then by golly this was one entertaining show and should
hopefully be that every night. If the other scenario (that those were plants
after all, and the reality after the grand opening will be more like amateur
karaoke night), then this is one flat show that will fizzle quickly.
For today, I'm just going to have to punt. Time will tell. I suppose what
I should do is buckle down and watch all four (or five or seven) "regular"
shows per day next time, and thus know if any ringers made it to the finale,
but my five year old would revolt if faced with that many singing shows. He
was bored by the two shows we did see, and that alone may be a bit telling.
This is not a show for repeat visits, unless your party corresponds to the
right demographic.
All that out of the way, let's backtrack to the beginning of the
experience, and go through it step by step. In fact, let's reboot my review
and start the way I've been assuming I was going to use as my introduction
to the article: I'm an American Idol newbie. I've never seen the show and
know extremely little about it (hey, don't point fingers at me; we
disconnected our satellite TV service so our kids wouldn't overdose on the
boob tube). My thoughts today are doubtless very much in the minority. Most
folks coming to the American Idol Experience will have a wealth of material
to draw upon as comparison, and they will see things differently than I do.
So my opinions need to be taken with all that in mind. This isn't to say
that my reactions lack all value (surely there will be other folks with no
background with the TV show), but it does mean that acolytes of the show may
well react differently.
So what does an American Idol virgin perceive? A brightly-lit stage, some
great stage lighting, a phenomenal sound system, and crisper than you could
possibly believe monitors off to the side (they must be High-Definition).
There's an annoying musical cue
they use between segments, which I assume comes from the show.
The mood is upbeat, the pacing relatively quick, the humor effective and
in the proper amounts, and the talent variable. It's better show than
Monsters Inc. Laugh Floor (the nearest analogy to my mind), it's better than
Who Wants to be a Millionaire Play It (the other "jump on the bandwagon"
show based on a TV show from this park), but it's no "must-see" attraction
every time we step foot in this park. There will doubtless be times we come
to DHS and avoid this attraction; perhaps even half of our visits in the
near future may be Idol-free. I'm likely to visit it more often than the
other live-action shows in this park, though. Lights, Motors, Action? I've
seen it. Indiana Jones Stunt show? Done that. I'll drop in to the shows my
kids want (Playhouse Disney, Little Mermaid), but American Idol may well
suck me in every so often. There's an unpredictability here that I find
oddly attractive.
During these unannounced preview days (the attraction is not on the
souvenir map, the wait times board, or the Times Guide), we found plentiful
seating even five minutes before show time. The theater holds 1,000
visitors, but apparently none of the shows on Sunday filled up all the way.
That's likely to change once the national ad campaign begins.
Apparently Idol has its fans!
The preshow zone will doubtless fill up
once this show is announced to the masses.
The preshow starts up at T-minus thirty minutes, when a guy comes out
with a microphone and a cameraman, intent on warming up the audience. He
gets folks to cheer and chant for a contestant we're going to see shortly
(it will be shown on the video screens), and at T-minus fifteen minutes, we
are treated to a video by Ryan Seacrest, host to the real American Idol. We
see the process that our contestants had to go through: a few seconds of
song (a capella, I wondered?) in an audition room, then a full song for the
producer later still. If they make it that far, they get some quick and
dirty training from a vocal couch before it's time for makeup and then off
to the stage!
On Sunday, the auditions building by the Sci-Fi diner closed up shop
sometime in mid-afternoon (it was still open at 1:30, and closed by 3:00). I
had asked to pop back there to take pictures and was told you can only go in
there if you audition. Or, the person auditioning could take one support
person. I had no intention of subjecting some poor CM to my caterwauling
(the seagull in Little Mermaid has nothing on me), so this review is simply
going to be picture-poor in this regard.
Contestants film introductory
material about themselves, some of which make it into the show. They
apparently get to keep the "Vote For Me" lanyards all day.
The theater itself is pretty big, and looks modern. Gleaming metal and
pulsing viewscreens abound; it's hard not to get caught up in the moment on
your first visit. I've been told it's a faithful recreation of the TV set.
The same guy warms us up inside the theater ("everyone, make some noise!")
and tells us what's going to happen. Apparently, this attraction hasn't
given up on the oldest, most annoying feature of studio theme parks: that
this is a fake-taping of a fake-show. We are excoriated to conform to the
"cold start" of being silent until the host shows up, then going wild. The
fake-director in the back booms out "and we are live in five, four, three…"
I couldn't help but be bored by this. "Live" where? Is this being beamed
somewhere? This is just so tiresome. It assumes the audience is populated by
idiots, which is always insulting. Give the audience some credit, I always
say. I hope they do away with this before the grand opening.
The ultimate winner of the day, we're told, will walk away with a Dream
Ticket, which enables them to cut in line to the front of the line at any
American Idol casting call nationwide. "The Ultimate FastPass," intones our
host, and I suppose that would be true if I cared about getting noticed for
exhibitionist karaoke. But my cynicism aside, those casting call lines at
American Idol apparently are appallingly long all of the time.
We're introduced to the judges. In the noontime show, they were Rainn
(Rainy? Randy? I never heard it clearly), Sarah, and Simon. In the finale
show, they were Jimmy, Carol, and David Pickett. In both cases, the actors
played certain "types": the black guy (Randy on the real TV show) who is
supportive, urban, and quick with a turn of phrase; the sensitive girl
(Paula on the real TV show) who is supportive, emotional, and
fashion-obsessed; and the acerbic Brit (Simon on the real TV show) who is
caustic, direct, and not-quite-uniformly negative.
There were four daytime shows on Sunday;
they are building their way up to seven.
There is a welcome video from Ryan Seacrest, and then we're off with our
contestants. It really is straight-up karaoke, just done up about as pretty
and technologically savvy as you can make it. The singers on stage spend
most of their time watching a large screen in the back of the auditorium,
facing them, displaying the lyrics with advancing yellow font like you'd see
in any karaoke bar.
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