Even for the most hardcore "American Idol" fan, a 600-minute 3 disc-set is a lot. The first hour alone features everything from goofy auditions to the show-stopping finales, a dream sequence and a bizarre scene where host Simon Cowell quizzes season four winner Carrie Underwood about the removal of her third nipple. (Now <I>that's</I> something they didn't show on Fox.)
Even for the most hardcore “American Idol” fan, a 600-minute 3 disc-set is a lot. The first hour alone features everything from goofy auditions to the show-stopping finales, a dream sequence and a bizarre scene where host Simon Cowell quizzes season four winner Carrie Underwood about the removal of her third nipple. (Now that’s something they didn’t show on Fox.) The remaining two-plus hours of the first disc simply reprise some of the winning performances and memorable moments — good and horrific, to use one of Cowell’s favorite words — even though this is supposed to be just the high points.
But, then, this whole bloated collection has a certain slapped-together feel. How else to explain why hapless William Hung, the archetype for every cringe-worthy “Idol” wannabe, turns up at least four times on the “Worst Of” disc, and other auditions from various no-talents repeat several times? Even more unwieldy — and unwatchable, unless you’re Carrie Underwood or Bo Bice’s blood relatives — is the bonus third disc, which is pretty much solely extended interviews with season four’s top finishers. If you’re wondering what Underwood packed for her trip to Hollywood, this one’s for you.
True to the done-on-the-cheap and on-the-fly nature of this collection, the only participant from the permanent cast is the always-game Paula Abdul, who slurs her way through some forced-cute narration while Cowell, Randy Jackson and even Ryan Seacrest are nowhere to be found, except in the archival footage.
Still, with 10 hours, there are bound to be some treasures, and the non-fanatic fans can find some enjoyment, so long as they keep a finger on the fast-forward button. It’s fun to revisit the first season auditions, with their dime-store production values, and to watch the two male judges finding their voice. (Jackson, in particular, has none of his “hey dawg” swagger of later seasons and instead feels the need to remind each and every wannabe that he’s worked with Whitney and the rest.)
Given the devotion of the tens of millions of “Idol” worshippers, there may indeed be an audience for every scrap that this collection offers. Now, about that nipple.…