America's Got Talent Season Four Recap: Semifinals, Group One Results

Results time! Nick Cannon continues to get formal widdit in a black tux with that rose-boutonnière-and-pocket square combo that, while perhaps not actually spitting in the face of fashion law, at least emits an unseemly belch. He threatens us with a "performance" by David Hasselhoff that I look forward to only to the extent that I smell an abundant opportunity for snark, and The Muppets are also due to perform. Glee!

The judges are introduced and bantered with. Nick calls David "Pimp Daddy Hassel", which tickles him to death because he simply cannot resist any reference to himself, no matter how silly. It's particularly funny how Nick keeps talking about how Hoff is "going to be performing later", when Lottie, Dottie, and ever-damn-body knows his "performance" is going to be a tape of a lip-synch of an electronically-perfected studio recording, but go ahead, Nick; be Simon Cowell's bitch, and we'll keep pretending we buy it.

Okay. I am not gonna recap the recap of the show I already recapped, so let's move on to the first elimination: Arcadian Broad, The Texas Tenors and Drew Thomas Magic. Ha! This is an easy one. Texas Tenors it is.

After this, we get a silly vignette of Sharon and Miss Piggy chatting in the dressing room, which predictably devolves into Piggy out for Kermit's blood after finding out he'd done lunch with Miss Sharon. Very Muppet Show, y'all! Ah, that brings back memories. I guess Simon Cowell and Piers Morgan are the Statler and Waldorf of the DNA-based world.

After the break, the Muppets perform. Miss Piggy and Kermit the Frog, still fighting over Kermit's supposed dalliance with Mrs. Osbourne, fuss/grovel/sing their way through Elton John and Kiki Dee's immortal duet, "Don't Go Breaking My Heart". In true Muppet Show fashion, they are joined by a bevy of fluffy hens attired in sparkly, Vegas-style feathered headdresses who sing-er, cluck-backup. Hee! I miss The Muppet Show.

On to the popcorn lounge. We find that the poor fellow from Acrodunk who had to jump through the flaming hoop has lost some arm hair in the conflagration; Kevin Skinner allows that he pre-approved Grandma Lee's trashing of his family; and Nick teases Marcus, Shazzer's boy toy from the Texas Tenors, that Ozzy is going to kill him. Perhaps, but only if Marcus cannot run-or even walk-very fast. And that, so we hear, is what's poppin'!

Back onstage, Nick threatens the muppet hens, who have been pecking at his fade, with Kevin Skinner, who no doubt loves the way this show has relentlessly and inextricably linked him with what was probably a crappy summer job about ten years ago. Hoff even thinks Kevin is a chicken farmer, but Hoff ain't the sharpest needle in the pincushion, if you smell what I'm cookin'.

The second elimination concerns Grandma Lee, Tony Hoard and Rory, and Paradizo Dance. The Paradizo couple looks downcast and obviously fears that they are not going to make it, as do I. None of these acts was a Canary Call for me, although I had Tony and Rory for "honorary fifth place". We were quite underwhelmed with Grandma Lee, so Tony and Rory are looking good.

As their reviews are read, Grandma Lee gets a surprising amount of applause, Rory looks like he desperately wants to go herd the audience, and Paradizo Dance smiles sweetly and ruefully. They get eliminated first, and Tony looks stoic as the audience starts a loud, organized chant for Grandma Lee, who nervously works her dentures. Whaddaya know, the sassy old lady makes it. Well, I'll be. She cries again, but I'm thinking Tony Hoard might be near tears too, going back home with no win and no job.

It's time to lighten things up a bit with a totally cheesetastic performance by David Hasselhoff. His number starts off in film-noir black and white, and if that doesn't make it obvious this performance is as pre-taped as Joan Rivers's boobs on Oscar night, another tip-off is that the otherwise omnipresent "LIVE" notation has disappeared from the upper left corner of the screen. David is singing "Feelin' Good", a song that has been good to Nina Simone and Michael Bublé but not so much to every American Idol contestant who has ever sung it (the only Idol contestant that has not been booted outright after singing it was the incomparable Adam Lambert, and even he missed the axe by a carefully-gelled hair). Of course, the Hoff need not worry about being bounced from America's Got Talent, provided he avoids further drunken shirtless semi-recumbent cheeseburger-snarfing video rants.

So the man is fried cheese on a stick, he left his sex appeal back in the 90s, and his attempts at dancing are funny and sad, but he can sing his ass off, my friends. Still trying to fake the "live" thing, Nick, wearing tonight's outfit last night, talks to the Hoff after his set, and I am astonished by what a huge man Hasselhoff is next to Nick, who is not exactly a dwarf, yo. Must be all that cheeseburger protein.

There are four acts left and only two spots in the final. Nick calls Kevin Skinner, Acrodunk, Voices of Glory and the Fab Five. Well, that's all of them, so I guess we're going to do the definitely staying/definitely going/fight it out thing. My Canary Calls were Fab Five, Kevin Skinner and Acrodunk, so I'm going to lose one here. Kevin is put through to the third spot, as he is the most obvious choice.

I guess the Fab Five will be eliminated, although I actually hope it's Voices of Glory, and I am utterly shocked when Nick announces that it's Acrodunk. What the?!? No way, man! Oh, well, that leaves the two sibling groups in the head-to-head. Handy how that worked out, eh?

After jerking everyone around with suspense and a commercial break, America's Got Talent pulls a completely fake, utterly preplanned and pathetically over-acted judges' "rebellion", whereby they "refuse" to make a choice and insist on putting both acts through, which comes as a surprise to absolutely nobody except of course the two acts, whose grasp of the obvious has been clouded by an incipient nervous breakdown. This will make ten finalists, ultimately, as they pretty much have to do the same thing next week (without all the pretense, one hopes), so: same as always, then.

America's Got Talent is silly and stupid and plays with people's minds and emotions to buy ratings with manufactured drama because it doesn't trust the talent itself to hold the attention of presumably jaded viewers, so the producers are assholes who insult the American viewing public while claiming to provide entertainment. That said, this show may be manipulative, but it does give hopeful performers a chance to expose their abilities to a large audience, so there's that. Remember, even cheesy-ass Star Search yielded such juggernaut successes as Justin Timberlake and Usher. Your humble recapper, for her part, is pretty happy there are only two weeks left. Canary out!