ladies last dance: ouch to wow...

It's Ladies Night on the last semi-final episode of American Idol, as Ryan lets us know we're live, not dead, not taped, live!

I like live.

The girls have one more chance to make up for two weeks of blah, before they're integrated with the guys next week. If I were betting at this stage, I would wager that, based on performances thus far, the women making it through will be picked off like fleas on a dog in the first four finals episodes.

But they do come a ways in proving why we should even have women in this season's show, ranging from Ouch to Wow.

Nevertheless, here are my early impressions, subject to rewind, review and reassessment, and as always, from worst to first.

More with the food stories, as Kinnik Sky informs us that she will fight to the death for pork intestines. I think Bucky and Kellie recognize what chitlins are, though, but look for them in a future result show jokefest. Meanwhile Kinnik destroys any outside chance of advancing with a nondescript, bland ballad, delivered almost entirely off-key. Ouch. That was bad.

Lisa Tucker, who might just find herself in a hot seat Thursday, leaves a door the size of Montana open for the endangered ones with yet another boring ballad because, as she says, it's appropriate for "making the top 12." Like Randy, I would have preferred her and her guitar, rocking to Jimi Hendrix.

Melissa McGhee loves fast cars and decides to perform What About Love. Randy and Simon Paula love it. Simon tells her to pack her bags. Me? It's more entertaining than Lisa's sleepy ballad, but, contrary to Randy's assessment, no, she did not sound like the sisters Heart.

Kellie Pickler gets the pimp spot, the last spot normally reserved for the very special one that week and the lucky girl gets the Burger King backdrop too. They must really want her to advance. After showing off her pup, she sings Melissa Etheridge's I'm the Only One, dropping to her knees in emotion. Simon calls her a naughty little minx and says that, while she's certainly not the best singer this year, he likes her better than "last year's winner." Uhh, Simon? That would be Carrie. She was there last week. Geesh. No wonder former winners don't want their songs performed on this show.

My love for Ayla Brown continues as she wears higher and higher shoes, towering more and more over Ryan. You gotta love that. She sings a pleasant song that I've never heard, but does that crouchie dance that I don't favor. The judges give her a collective "meh," and Simon tells her to grow down. Not in height, though. Come back 13, he says. Please don't, say I.

Paris Bennett tells everyone that, even though her nickname is Princess, she's really a tomboy. And she's a tomboy wearing a dress over jeans, which I recognize now is a fashion statement, sings Conga and fidgets her feet to the point of almost running out of air. The judges give her a lukewarm reception, but Simon says what we all know, that we'll see her next week.

Katharine McPhee implores everyone to Think, and I can't help but wonder how effective she would be if she let loose. As Simon tells her, she's effortless, and she is, finally cutting loose with a non-ballad but doing it with such restraint, one has to wonder what she's storing up for the big stage. And we finally put an end to those nasty rumors: no, she's not leaving the show because she's pregnant with Kevin's lovechild. Whew.

Mandisa makes sure that everyone knows that she's Every Woman. She is, you know. Few contestants over the years have proven this early that they know exactly who they are and prove that they feel most comfortable in their own skin. This woman does. Not many women could take one of the most overused songs (thanks Oprah) ever and make it new. Simon tells her the other girls are going to hate her guts as they cut to the balcony room where those other girls are offering polite applause.

Your turn. Who was best? Who stunk up the place?

Tomorrow night: the guys.



tag: american idol