American Idol IRL

Once in a while, the stars and planets align just so, and something really cool comes my way. Last night it was a ticket to a live taping of “American Idol,” my latest and guiltiest pleasure.

This was an event that took up an entire Tuesday afternoon and evening, and required extra hours of daycare, solo parenting by Daddy, and shortened work hours for me on my one work day per week. Luckily, my boss, L., is the person who took me to the show, so she was okay with me taking the time off.

I found out a while ago that I was going to get this opportunity, and I looked forward to it like it was Prom Night 1987. Getting dressed yesterday morning, I tried to prepare myself for the quite likely possibility that L. would be called away and we’d have to cancel or at least postpone. I told myself that it was no big deal, I really like watching “American Idol” on TV with Stewart, who asks that you don’t tell anybody that he actually enjoys the show. But really, I would have been sad to have such a fun thing yanked away from me at the last minute. At one point during the show, L. said she was seeing a side of me that she never knew existed. I guess she’s never seen me at an Indigo Girls show.

So, without further ado, here is my special report: What It’s Like to Be an Audience Member at “American Idol.”

We were guests of the production, so a producer met us at the gate to CBS studios at about 3:45 PM Pacific Time. She gave us our tickets and I noticed that different people had at least three types of passes – the “hard tickets” like we had (see below), wristbands, or credentials, which were laminated passes that people wore around their necks. Right before the show started, those people were asked to hide their credentials so they wouldn’t show up on camera.

The producer led us to a holding area behind the stage where I noticed the husbands and families of the contestants hanging around. (You can’t miss Carly Smithson’s tatted up hubby.) I’ve met a lot of celebrities in my career, so I wasn’t exactly starstruck, but because I see these people on TV twice a week, I was excited.

Once we decided to head in and find our seats, we had to go through a metal detector and surrender our cell phones. They gave us numbered ticket stubs that matched a card they attached to the phone – kind of like valet parking for cell phones. I think L. was about to scrap the whole idea at that point, but since I was so excited, and since we’d driven all the way down there, I guess she figured she might as well enjoy it. But not before calling the office to check in and alert the staff that she would be out of touch for almost two hours. I actually suggested that she do that, because she was already starting to twitch and she hadn’t even released the Blackberry.

We entered the stage under a network of scaffolding that holds up the bleachers. My first impression was that in real life it’s so small! On the show they make such a big deal out of being on this “big” stage, but it only holds about 500 audience members. Also, since it was Andrew Lloyd Weber week, the band was down on the stage like an orchestra, so it made the performance space seem even smaller.

Our seats were behind the judges, to the right and up from the floor about four rows. During the show, if you look very closely, I am in one shot. But it’s not all of me. Just my hands, clapping. The camera man was more interested in shooting Alison Janney, David Duchovny and his adorable child, and Ricky Schroeder.

We had a while to wait before the show began, so we enjoyed the people watching that the venue afforded us. In addition to the above celebrities, we saw Paul Stanley and his doll-like companion, Joely Fisher and her child, and a woman I thought was Punky Brewster but after I watched the show on Tivo it turned out to be the Latina chick from a cop show. The rest of the audience was made up of 12-year-old girls. And their moms.

About three minutes before airtime, the judges arrived, accompanied by bodyguards, to take their places. That means that Simon Cowell and Randy Jackson each entered to great fanfare, and then the show was about to begin so as Paula came in, teeny tiny staggering and dopey Paula, the stage manager hissed “NO applause! NO APPLAUSE!”

There was much stage direction for the audience, you see. The warm-up guy (this is a comedian who has the difficult job of psyching up the live audience at a TV show for the actual show part of the show) instructed us to clap with our hands over our heads because it looks better. He also told us to wave our arms in the air during ballads. I am so happy for humanity that someone actually tells the audience to do this, because from my place on the couch people look really dumb when they do this and I always wonder why they would do something that looks so stupid. Then again, I’ve never watched myself dance, and I don’t know if other people think similar thoughts of me. At least I often had an excuse, which was that I was drunk. These were 12-year-olds and their moms. I sure hope they weren’t drunk.

So anyway. Me and American Idol.

I have to say, as much as I’ve complained that Ryan Seacrest is birdlike and annoying, the man is a pro. He hopped around and chatted with people and hung out with the best of them, but as soon as the countdown ended and the feed was live, he was on his mark, delivering his lines, and ad-libbing skillfully. Also, he tried to conduct the orchestra. It was very cute. I’m not a big Seacrest fan, but much in the same way seeing a band live usually makes me like them more, Seacrest has grown on me a little after watching him in action.

When the Final Six took the stage, you could tell how nervous they were. I don’t think that comes across through the TV screen. The come out, wave at the audience and cameras, then they move off the stage and the action begins.

The part I was most looking forward to was the commercial breaks. That’s as “behind the scenes” as it was going to get for me, so I tried to pay attention to everything at one. As soon as the breaks started, the judges would get up from their seats and hobnob with people in the audience. Ryan Seacrest would do the same or he would chat with the contestants on the stage. If the contestants were still up there after doing a song, they looked a bit lost since nobody was really paying attention to them anymore. They would wait for a bit, savor the last lingering applause, and then wander offstage.

I wondered whether the performances seemed different in person versus how we experience them on TV, so in my very scientific experiment, I played close attention to the vibe and the acoustics during the taping, then watched carefully on TV later last night. For the most part the two experiences were very similar, with a few notable exceptions. (For an always-funny critique of Idol performances, visit my pal Channing’s blog on Vote For the Worst.)

Syesha was great on TV, and in person she was electrifying. Very sultry and expressive and fun, which is why I think the judges loved her performance – it really was well suited for the stage. Jason Castro was better on TV than in person, because he was muted and pained and that needed more closeups. In person, Brooke’s choke was even more tense than they made it seem on TV. Carly Smithson sounded better in person than my TV made her sound.

My favorite part of getting to see the performances live was when the contestants were in their places on the stage, waiting through the produced package for the moment when they were to begin singing. While you were at home watching Andrew Lloyd Weber meet each contestant, that contestant was on a darkened stage, hearing what he had to say about them for the first time. Jason and David Archuleta were both visibly shaken in the moments before their performances by hearing Lord Weber’s soundbites boom throughout the soundstage.

Also, I love to watch David Cook.

When the show was over the house lights came up, just like at a concert, and as the contestants waved and spoke in sign language to their families in the audience, we were herded out of the stage by section. We waited in a cattle roundup to get our cell phones and then we hiked the 57 miles back to where our car was parked, at one of my favorite places in LA, and decided to have dinner and do a little shopping. I didn’t get home until 10:30 PM.

In summary, I really enjoyed myself and I am sad for Carly Smithson that she had to leave the show because she really was quite good last night. I mean, Andrew Lloyd Weber night on a show that is supposed to produce a pop star? Kind of a tall order.

And a final note to anyone who has never been to a taping of a TV show – they don’t let you get up to go to the bathroom during production, and in the past when I have attended such things you are stuck in your seat for hours. I was really worried about this because with potty training as Item #1 on our agenda these days, I am a little preoccupied by the not very realistic notion of peeing in my pants. So I was very happy that our special treatment included a trip to the American Bathroom before we had to go in and sit down.