As painful as the seven city cattle calls were to sit through — monotonous, predictable, Paula-less, Avril Lavigne-y — so Hollywood Week is invigorating.

So goes the roller coaster that is American Idol.

On Tuesday, much time was spent on new judge Ellen DeGeneres, which meant we saw little actual singing. It’s called the set-up, folks. And honestly, if Ellen is going to talk that much when we get to the live shows, we are going to have reset the TiVos for permanent over-runs.

On Wednesday, much time was spent on whining and crying and carrying on (yes, it was "Group Day"), which is my second most-favoritest episode of Idol every season. Oh, the humanity.

Also new this year was only two hours of Hollywood this week, as opposed to the usual four, because Fox has the bad new show Past Life and the good new show Human Target.

Let’s assess: We went from more than 100,000 in the seven cities to 181 Golden Tickets to Hollywood. On Tuesday, which encompassed Days 1 and 2 in Hollywood, the "sudden death" solo performances, that herd was culled to 96. After Wednesday, 71 remained. Next week, that gets winnowed to 24. Progress, baby!

Who’s still in (that we recognize, and that they bothered to show us):

Katie, the adorable teen from Middlebury, Conn., who has the adorable Portuguese granny with Alzheimer’s. She had a terrific solo, and has a whole Selena Gomez vibe about her that will take her — I hope — far. Can she erase the bad memories of Julia DeMato from the Nutmeg State’s subconscious?
Andrew Garcia, son of gangbangers, who pulled out his guitar and did an acoustic version of Paula Abdul’s Straight Up that made me sit straight up. As an added bonus, Kara opened her mouth afterwards and reminded us how stupid she is, when she commented it was a very Adam-Lambert-like thing to do. No it wasn’t, Kara. It was a very Kris Allen-thing to do. Remember Heartless?
Janell, w/guitar, who lucked into perhaps the best group of Wednesday night, teaming with silky-voiced Jermaine and bluesy Casey (see below).
That cute 16-year-old, Haeley, whom the judges loved in auditions because she is black and sings country (that met their definition of "unique" and "doing your own thing"), did a great version of a Taylor Swift song and flew through.
The 28-year-old rocker mom named Mary: Don’t like her, and after her horrendous behavior with her group, don’t like her even more. Honey, you are not all that. You are not even Joan Jett Jr.
Lilly Scott, who sang Ella Fitzgerald with a guitar and now has the award for Worst Earrings Ever Worn On Idol with those giant peacock feathers stuck to the side of her head.
Big Mike, who’s wife was in labor as he hit the stage with his guitar Tuesday, singing Waiting for the World to Change better than David Archuleta did, and got some spontaneous "backup" from the audience. The poor thing gave birth during Group Day, while his group, Team Awesome (an homage to Chuck?) waited nearby. Honestly. Birthing via iPhone? That’s a new one. But I like him.
Tim from Texas, who looks like Tom Cruise. Meh. He was in Big Mike’s group, which lost two of its members: Jason Castro’s baby brother and that nice Seth, who has the autistic son.
Casey, who went shirtless in Denver and got through on the strength of that, but who turned out in Hollywood to be an excellent blues guitarist/singer.
And finally, Didi the crying waitress, who sang a Kara song and I still loved it, and dreadlocked Crystal, the single mom with the low self-esteem, who sang Natural Woman and also got the "backup" help, in addition to a standing ovation when she was done.

Who’s out (that we recognize, and that they bothered to show us):

Skiiboski, who never should’ve made it to Hollywood anyway.
Vanessa, the hickiest hick from Hicksville, Tenn., who fell apart the minute she left the safety of her nice family’s bosom.
The pants splitter.
The Italian-American (don’t call him a Guido) from Providence.
The blond girl from Dallas who had the really weird little brother.
Jay Stone, the worst beat boxer in the history of spitting.
Cancer-survivor Justin, who oddly turned into a lounge lizard spoof when he sat down behind the keyboards.
Barney girl whip-wielder.
Jersey sisters.
Maddy, the sweet 16-year-old with the four Down syndrome brothers. But she will be back; mark my words.
The BB gun bank robber, Big Matt.

What Hollywood showed us (and hopefully the judges) is that they put through a whole passel of people who really couldn't sing, and who crapped out the minute they stepped onto the Kodak Theatre stage. Simon's right, friends: it's a singing competition. It's not about your "package".

Next week, the final solo, then the gatherings in the conference rooms, then … TWENTY-FOUR. And I don’t mean the Kiefer Sutherland kind.