American Idol Recap: Clusterfraught

"Group day" during Idol's Hollywood Week seems as necessary as Randy Jackson's understanding of percentages. Fact is, once the Top 12 contestants are chosen and start hitting the big stage week after week, they're only forced to perform with one another during hokey opening medleys and (perhaps) the occasional duet. Otherwise, they perform solo and opt not to assault our senses with nervous blitzes of harmony and choreography. Last night's proceedings ended up eliminating handfuls of hopefuls, but it mostly proved that the Gwen Stefani backlog contains some difficult, Faulknerian material. Color me one billion percent shocked, dawg. We count the night's three biggest highlights after the jump.

3. Your next American Idol's wife has a really wide cervix at this time.

Big, friendly contestant Michael Lynche's wife went into labor during his group rehearsal, and we got to hear his child's first gooey birth squeals on speakerphone. We also earned the privilege of watching Michael mutter to the camera, at some point, "She's eight inches dilated right now." Candor regarding cervix width always makes me pick up the phone and vote. I better see more of that starpower during the Top 24, when Michael's child should be old enough to yell, "Epidural!" to a bunch of lingering cameras. And then we all howl while Seacrest makes broad, vaudevillian birthing gestures.

2. Mary Powers is bawling because none of you know how to have fun.

Mary Powers, the auditioner who sang a good, if copycat version of Pink's "Sober," ran her group performance with an iron-spiked bracelet and other things that are stupid. While trying to flesh out the issues within her group's rendition of Fleetwood Mac's "Dreams," she turned to the camera and sputtered about how another group was "having fun" and "didn't stop the whole f*cking production" when a singer skipped a word. The problem with Mary is sort of the problem with Pink herself: It's difficult to buy into a "rocker" chick who is just complaining all the time. For now, Mary survives, but the minute she whips out the trapeze, I deflate the Big Top right over her.

1. Gwen Stefani ruins your dreams and the moldy, cold refrigerator, or something.

Knowing they'd subjected us to an hour of unwatchable twee crooning, the producers gave us a succulent television popsicle in the form of horrible renditions of Gwen Stefani's "The Sweet Escape." Two different groups stumbled through the tongue-splitting, polysyllabic line about sour milk, the refrigerator, acting so cold, and other topics of maturity and grace. If you were going to perform any Gwen hit for Simon Cowell, wouldn't you choose "Cool," "Early Winter," or something with a little range? These hollaback gurglers never stood a chance.