Ellen Gray: C'mon, Ryan & Simon, stop the drama

WHAT'S UP with Ryan Seacrest?

Is he, as "American Idol" judge Simon Cowell suggested not long ago, auditioning for Simon's job?

Or, worse, Oprah's?

The antagonistic banter between Seacrest and Cowell has been going on for years now, but in Simon's final season, it's getting more and more uncomfortable to watch.

And I'm safe at home on the couch.

I can only imagine how the contestants - who already have to worry about accidentally stepping on the tiny Ryan - feel as they stand before millions of viewers, being tossed between the two like a half-dead mouse between two bored cats.

That's bad enough, but now the singers are increasingly being asked to talk about their health or their feelings or the special meaning some song they may never have heard of before last week has for them, and in an aggressive way that can't help but feel like prying, subtlety not being Ryan's long suit.

Most seem pretty confused.

After all, unlike talk-show guests, who know that part of the job is coming prepared to tell a story, they just thought they were there to sing.

And, OK, to not crush Ryan.

While I wouldn't rule out some sort of power grab on the part of the nakedly ambitious Seacrest, I'm inclined to attribute a lot of the current tension to "Idol's" producers, who could put an end to this nonsense with a few well-chosen words, but who seem to be all about the drama.

With the contestants themselves supplying less and less of that every year - maybe the judges should stop looking for types and just cast good singers? - the so-called grown-ups are being encouraged to act like adolescents.

They're not nearly as funny as they think they are (except, of course, for Ellen DeGeneres, the only one on the panel who should even try to be funny and who sometimes seems to be the only one taking the process at all seriously).

In fairness to "American Idol," it's far from the worst offender in the manufactured-drama business, merely the most-watched.

Though Simon's occasionally suggested that contestants shouldn't be pulling for one another, they have a heartening way of bonding over their shared experience (or uniting against a common enemy).

Despite workroom flare-ups, the same dynamic tends to prevail on Lifetime's "Project Runway," where last week we saw the remaining contestants told that the youngest among them, 22-year-old Maya Luz, had decided to drop out because she felt she wasn't experienced enough.

There was surprise, even concern, but if there was any glee at the departure of a rival, I just didn't see it.

More importantly, I didn't need to: There was plenty of entertainment in the challenge itself.

I used to feel that way about CBS' "Survivor," too, back in the days before the casting-for-conflict model overwhelmed the show and the focus on day-to-day survival took a back seat to alliances and backbiting.

Docu-soaps like MTV's "Laguna Beach" and "The Hills" and Bravo's "Real Housewives" franchise, where the only challenges for the overprivileged participants seem to involve getting through a day without expiring of boredom, have fed their viewers a steady diet of imagined slights, scripted quarrels and general bad behavior.

Meanwhile, actual diet shows, particularly NBC's "The Biggest Loser," have complicated one of the tougher challenges many people face by constantly pitting the "losers" against one another. (As anyone who's watched the Style Network's "Ruby" knows, one's own addictions can be competition enough.)

Look, I get it: Human interaction's always going to be a little messy and people living and working in close quarters are bound to get on one another's nerves sometimes.

With our own workplaces having become more politically correct over the years, maybe there's a pent-up need to see someone, somewhere express the anger and aggression most people sensibly avoid demonstrating in order to keep both their jobs and their families.

Thing is, people doing interesting work or achieving their dreams or even just working for and with others who make them feel appreciated generally don't have the time or desire to be compiling enemies lists.

CBS' "Undercover Boss" and its feel-good stories may feel a little too good at times to be true, but judging from the ratings, there's an appetite for a "reality" show that demonstrates how much pride most people still take in their work.

"Idol," too, started out as a show about aspirations, not asinine behavior.

Maybe it's time Ryan and Simon put their differences aside and just let the kids sing. *

Send e-mail to graye@phillynews.com.