"The X Factor": Group therapy leads to top 32

(CBS) The last edition of "The X Factor" Boot Camp auditions symbolized America's biggest problem: So many people want a job, so few are chosen.

There were even 12-year-olds, incapable of getting jobs up chimneys any more, vying with people three, four and five times their age, just to get the chance at a living wage.

This wasn't easy. There were still 100 acts hoping to squeeze their egos into the last 32. More than a few of them seemed to be currently unemployed. Couldn't Simon Cowell have liaised with President Obama and received some sort of subsidy from the Jobs Bill? Couldn't he at least have stretched it to 40, with eight free placements offered by the Government?

No, he couldn't. Which is why the pain would be great and the drama would cause sleepless nights and severe pressure on health insurance policies (for those who had them).

Again, we had to listen to snatches of group performances, hoping to hear individuals live or corpse.

But here's what was obvious: there was already more talent on display than in a whole series of "American Idol." This knowledge became even more poignant on the day that we learned that Lee DeWyze, the "Idol" before last, had been dropped by his record company.

If what we saw was to be believed, the over 30s had more chance of progressing to the last 32 than did any of the other categories - boys, girls and groups. There just seemed to be fewer of the old people. Everyone had the chance to sing but a snatch of a song to stir the cold blood of the music veteran judges - and Nicole Scherzinger.

At the end of the first day of this last Boot Camp show, another third of the hundred would be sent home. Which made one worry for the one-third that would have to leave the other two-thirds of him or herself behind.

The criteria the judges were using were brutal, calculating, almost entirely devoid of emotional bias.

"She's got energy, but, boy, she can't sing," offered L.A. Reid about one contestant. You see, though this is a singing show, it's all about the star quality. The singing can be finessed a little. The live performances can be touched up a little. The star quality cannot be created from scratch.

So it came to the first elimination. This was not an individual affair. A large group was gathered on stage to be executed - by Paula Abdul. Many were shocked, clearly not expecting to lose. One, however, was wearing a Toronto Raptors hat.

The next group - including Chris Rene, out of rehab for just over 90 days - was told they had made it by Nicole Scherzinger. Some sank to their knees. Some squealed with glee. Some wondered if this wasn't an audition for "Glee."

The last group was teased by Cowell: "It's not good news. It's great news". I wonder how long it had taken a whole team of writers to come up with that fine dramatic line.

But why were all these people crying? By the end of the show, many of them would still be sent home. Oh, how we live in the moment.

Yes, another half would be gone by the end of another day. Those who survived were given 35 songs. They had to choose which one represented them best "as an artist." There wouldn't just be the judges listening to them bare their souls. There would be 3000 people in the auditorium.

Should they accept this mission, they might, just might have the chance to visit the home of one of the four judges. For that is the next stage in this picaresque musical set to contemporary music.

First up was Rachel Crow. The show didn't seem to be able to decide whether she is 13 or 14. Steve Jones, the humorless Welsh host declared the latter. The caption declared the former. She sang about what would be if she were a boy. Crow brought passion, aggression and all the attitude that would make boys run for cover.

The judges weren't to comment. But Nicole Scherzinger did cry.

As the performances went on, one thing was clear: there were too many trilbies. Everyone from 53-year-old Audrey Turner to Chris Rene seemed to think this was the fashion of the moment, as opposed to the passion of the 1950s.

It was hard, though, not to find heroes.

"I've had a lot of defeats. I've had a lot of obstacles," said Josh Krajcik, whose voice and demeanor had thus far hoisted him to prominence. He said he'd had a lot of things to overcome. Why did one get the impression that the burrito maker had been occasionally familiar with alcohol?

He sang "Up to the Mountain," a Kelly Clarkson song. Krajcik has more soul that your average cemetery. If he brings half the feeling to his burritos that he brings to his singing, they must be the most meaningful burritos on earth.

Simone Battle, blessed with even more ego than Vladimir Putin, decided on Elton John's "Your Song." She made it her song. She forgot the words. She sang utter jibberish. In fact, not one John-uttered lyric emerged from her mouth.

"I was trying to do something different," was her defense, like a woman who makes potions in a traveling show.

"Despite what just happened, I can bring it," she waffled. So can William Hung, Simone.

What followed were more examples of freezing, even more extreme and poignant than the bank accounts of Iceland just a couple of years ago. Cowell became upset because too many of the contestants were performing "weirdo" versions of his iPod (or CD) favorites.

The audience loved Stereo Hogzz's highly stylized, not to say weirdo, version of "Cry Me a River." This was followed by another man in a trilby - with a feather. Then Chris Rene performing "Every Breath You Take" - in a trilby. These were trials and trilbulations.

But what of Stacy Francis? The 42-year-old stay-at-home mom, heroine of the first audition show, seemed troubled. She suddenly revealed that her dad had died on the first day of Boot Camp. At last, a riveting story.

Another riveting performance, too. The audience rose. L.A Reid rose. Nicole Scherzinger rose. Francis was smelling of roses.

"That's pain. That's deep, deep pain," said Reid, of Francis' "Summertime".

Suddenly, a show that was teetering on tedium tottered back from the brink by offering a peculiar whiff of honesty. These were real performers, with real talent, biting and scratching towards real money.

Leroy Bell, 59, was the last performer. Cowell wondered what it must have been like for Bell to have been frustrated for so many years of his life and then, for his last chance, to have to compete with 12-year-olds.

Yet the beauty of this twisted little show is that Bell doesn't have to compete with the kiddies. He merely has to make it as one of the eight over 30s sent along the Styx to the next round.

The last half-hour of the show was left to the results. This was Cowell's equivalent of Judges' Table on "Top Chef." Cowell admitted that he had become emotionally attached to a number of the contestants, to whom, he feared, the other judges didn't feel the same attachment. Cowell said he intended to fight. Which would have been a little like the Lord of the Manor deciding to fight the butler.

First up were the girls. When 14-year-old Drew Ryniewicz was told she would be progressing, the other contestants stood paralyzed- save for the other 12- and 13-year-olds who embraced her as if this was high school. Which, in a way, it was.

Thirteen-year-old Rachel Crow was next to gain access through the golden doors. Then, 16-year-old Jazzlyn Little. Then, the startlingly honest Melanie Amaro. Yes, these were all flagged in the first audition show. Clever producers, aren't they? You were already emotionally invested, weren't you?

Which left Mississippis to be cried, judges to be derided, and little children to be ruined for life. The boys were dealt with quickly. Oh, of course the recently rehabbed Chris Rene made it.

The groups were dealt with quickly too. Surely, it was the older folks who would create the most tea, tears and sympathy. How sad, though, to see nascent lovers Makenna and Brock to be left by the wayside to hitchhike home.

The over 30s stood and held hands while we had to listen to Whitney Houston's "One Moment in Time." Did 59-year-old Leroy Bell make it? Did (just) 30-year-old John Krajcik? Did 49-year-old Skid Row resident Dexter Haygood? Did 42-year-old Stacy Francis?

Oh, of course they all did.

Did certain-number-of-years-old Paula Abdul cry? You need to ask?

But, wait. Just before you go. The judges, in a fit of magnanimity, suddenly decided - even as the suitcases were being wheeled from the building by the dejected - to call a few back.

Yes, really. Suddenly, because there was such a dearth of groups, all of these little young things were being grouped together in order to save their mortal souls.

Never let it be said that Simon Cowell is anything other than generous. Never let it be said that Paula Abdul is anything other than generally wet-faced.