"American Idol" judges, it's your turn to be scrutinized

We're turning the turntables on Fox's "American Idol." Contestants get a pass, while our own judges — music journalist Rona Elliot, filmmaker Rich Martini, and music critic/authors Gene Sculatti and Don Waller — assess "Idol" judges Simon, Paula and Randy.

Simon Cowell

Elliot: Viewers have a tough time with Simon because he seems to delight in being extremely critical. He doesn't care if you like him. A case could be made for him to be more user-friendly, but his approach is a counterpoint to Randy's familiarity and Paula's fawning. I don't think it's an act. In the real music biz, people say much worse things behind your back than Simon says to your face.

Sculatti: He and the producers know what his assigned role is: to be the huffy Brit. While much of what he says is shtick, he hits the nail on the head more frequently than Randy or Paula. Since he's the most opinionated, he ought to find a way to be more knowledgeable and appreciative of different kinds of music.

Waller: Obviously, the producers want to limit the amount of negativity, but letting him toss off one-word critiques like "ridiculous" or "weird" is neither informative nor particularly entertaining. It's just lazy.

Martini: Simon is America's favorite villain, and he plays the role to a T in a T-shirt. America loves an archvillain, and Simon is our very own Snidely Whiplash. He tosses grenades ("pathetic") and wacky questions ("Are you drunk?") that in a bar would get him clocked. Simon is the cold-hearted Ted Mack of our era, and without his sardonic wit and eyeball-rolling smirk, the show wouldn't be half as successful.

Paula Abdul

Waller: Everyone understands that she's the spoonful of artificial sweetener that makes Simon's medicine go down. Woefully inarticulate, she inevitably winds up stringing clichés together like they were a pearl necklace. She just got a new three-year deal for this? We should all have her agent.

Martini: Paula wears her cheerleader persona like her old Lakers uniform. She lifts up those who have been smacked down. She gives hope to the hopeless. She's a tonic to Simon's gin, and a yin to Randy's yang. Her midsentence George Bush moments, when she's struggling for syntax and lost in a sea of simile and totally attention-deficit-disordered, usually happen because she's too dang excited. Maybe you need a puffer fish in the shark tank.

Elliot: I hope Paula's shtick is an act, constructed to make her appear to be a ditz who's unable to construct coherent sentences from a sequential set of thoughts. But I think we're seeing the essential Paula. She's the train-wreck judge, and that's part of "Idol's" schadenfreude lure. You can't take your eyes off of her. Can she be that incomprehensible? There is a place for a supportive, cheerleading judge, but Paula needs to come up with something relevant and authentic to say.

Sculatti: Her assigned role is the sweetie. She can on occasion be less than enthusiastic, and as this season has progressed, she's been a little more critical, though it's usually when she's seconding Randy. If you're going to sit in judgment, you should have some idea where the performers and repertoire are coming from.

Randy Jackson

Waller: Dawg, your slanguage is getting to be as tired as Arsenio Hall's fade. Yo, constantly referring to male and female alike as "dog" or "dude" used to be aiiight as a unisexual kinda thing, but now, I dunno, I'm just not feelin' it. Bust out some mad chedda for a fresh hiptionary, cuz. With 30 million people watching, you should be inventing fresh catchphrases, not recycling urban verbs left over from the Reagan administration. You also might dispense more specific advice, considering you're the only actual musician on the panel.

Elliot: The mannerisms and incomprehensible evaluations seem to be a bid for street cred. Randy has advice to give and a successful career to support his opinions. I'm guessing he wants to distinguish himself from the other judges, but it doesn't work for me.

Sculatti: I find his assigned role as the designated brother annoying. Nobody's ever going to mistake him for Snoop Dogg or one of the Beastie Boys. He's a good fit between Paula and Simon. He's fairly candid without being unkind. He has a limited field of vision aesthetically and a fondness for excess and vocal acrobatics, which is seen as signifying greatness when it's just showboating. Simon is more likely to call out something as indulgent.

Martini: Randy's loopy "woof woof" asides have an effervescence to counterbalance Paula's pompoms and Simon's sardonic jabs. As the sole musician, Randy has some credibility, and he can be a salve for the wounds Simon inflicts. For all its predictable idolisms, this odd Mod Squad deserves credit for its role in a perverse dance that keeps the audience coming back.