AGT Week 4: A 17-year-old’s dogs shine, a couple reads minds, and nerves turn into song
America’s Got Talent Week 4 snapped from joy to shock in minutes. A 17-year-old ran the stage with two dogs who couldn’t stop wagging. A married pair read strangers’ minds so precisely they called a full serial number off a dollar bill. A singer from the Netherlands shook through her nerves and found a voice that stilled the room. Between them, a metal wail sent someone in the crowd to the floor, and a French daredevil swallowed steel high over a water tank. The show didn’t drift; it lunged.
The teenager who trains joy
Olivia walked out with Zeke pressed to her leg and a grin that made the judges soften. She has, in her words, “always absolutely loved animals.” She laughed that her family home is “a little bit of a zoo,” and meant it—guinea pigs, birds, bearded dragons. The second surprise nose slid in later: “Is that also your dog?” a judge asked. “Yes. This is Phoenix.”
They worked as a trio, not a girl-with-props act. The dogs leapt with tight form, hit beats on cue, and, crucially, looked like they were having fun. “You know what I like about this act is that the dogs are clearly really enjoying themselves,” a judge said. Olivia called their bond her edge. Asked what Phoenix was, she answered without hedging: “He’s a border collie whippet mix.” That is a smart, hot-footed cross, and it showed.
The panel didn’t hold back. “You’re so young and so good,” one judge told her. Another added, “You’ve trained them with so much love and so much care, and that melts my heart.” When it came time to vote, they stacked yeses. Simon added the clean verdict: “I actually think you have a real gift for this.” The teenager and her two co-stars left with four green lights and one more tail wag at the curtain.
Two rings, one mind
Marina and James met in 2017 on a dating app and built an act on the idea that two people can share a channel. They opened by asking a judge to play skeptic and place a hand over Marina’s eyes. “Make sure that Marina isn’t wearing any secret listening devices,” James said. “Have a look.” Nothing. Then he pointed at the crowd: “Please start pulling random objects, personal possessions from your pockets, handbags, purses.”
Marina, eyes covered, called a “parking ticket,” then rattled off a number: “49837.” She followed with “poop bags”—down to the fact that they were for pets—then “an access card… a door of a hotel room.” The rhythm tightened. To erase any doubt about coached props, James sent Terry into the seats with a box to collect items. While the haul came in, Simon stood and mixed a deck. “Say stop anytime you want,” James told him. Simon said stop. “I have a feeling that you’ve stopped exactly in a queen of diamonds.” He turned the card. Queen of diamonds.
They ended by upping the risk. Marina’s eyes were covered again. “We do not use secret electronic devices to communicate,” James said as Terry brought the sealed box back. Marina touched a wallet, then a phone, then eye drops, then an orange. She called a hat. Then came a dare: the $1 bill. “There’s a serial number,” James said. “Tell us the entire serial number.” Marina didn’t stall. “It starts with the letter L followed by 61700014F.” Correct. The room swung to its feet. “What just happened?” one judge blurted. Simon called it “more than magic.” The votes landed in a row: “Good for you. It’s a yes.” “Yes.” “Yes.” “Four yeses, guys.”
A voice from the Netherlands steadies
Brooklyn, 23, flew in with a story that didn’t need extra sugar. “I always loved singing,” she said, “but I didn’t really think that it was actually something I could pursue because I dealt with a lot of anxiety.” Her parents didn’t know she could sing until her dad heard her through a wall and “sat in this chair… with tears.” That belief outlived him. “A couple years ago, he sadly passed away,” she told the panel. “Your father… he would have been very proud of you, I think, tonight,” Simon said later.
You could hear the nerves at her first breath. Then, as Howie put it, “you’re like a flower, and you bloom.” Sofia kept it simple: “I loved it. I love your song. I love, you know, the feeling that you were putting into it. You have a beautiful voice.” Another judge added, “I closed my eyes, and I wouldn’t have heard your nervousness or anxiety because it just sounded like you’re in your happy place.” Simon pulled it into craft: “I really hope this boosts your confidence because you really have got great range, fantastic presence on stage.” The panel started the tally with, “I’m gonna be the first to say yes.” The rest followed.
When a swing misses
Micah Bean, 23, from Chattanooga, came billed as a surprise. He was. The first notes went harsh and low, and the room jolted with him. “Somebody just passed out in the audience,” a judge said as the crew moved. “I’m not surprised. It was like a nightmare.” Another judge blinked and tried to square expectations with sound: “Thought you were gonna be like a nice boy country music guy, and then the devil came out of your mouth.” The vote turned quick. “It’s a no for me.” Then another. “Well, obviously, it is a no for me. So sorry, Micah.” On a night built on risk, this one tipped hard the wrong way.
Steel, water, and a plea to be safer
France sent Erwin Luguayar, whose act didn’t belong to any one lane. “There was water. There was sword swallowing. There was aerial stuff,” Mel said when it ended. He worked above, around, and into a tank, pulling blades in sequences that would be hard on flat ground. It landed as spectacle, and it rattled the panel. “You make it look so easy,” one judge said. Another cut in: “That made me really nervous.” The guidance wasn’t about showmanship. “Normally… I sometimes say, can you make it a little bit more scary the next time? I’m actually gonna ask you to do the opposite. It should make you a little less dangerous for yourself next time. I’m praying, please.” Votes still came. “Yes.” “Yes.” “Thank you. Three yeses.” He’ll be back, with a tighter margin for error.
From a town of 1,500 to a big room
“Who are you?” the panel asked. “My name is Madeline Talent.” The surname got a laugh. She pointed to her partner: “Malachi Martin.” They came from Benton, Tennessee—“Population of 1,500 people, and there’s nothing there besides Dollar Generals and churches,” Madeline said. She waits tables at Big Tom’s. Malachi works full time at a beryllium copper company and has a two-month-old son at home. They’ve been playing together for six months.
They didn’t sell polish. They sold feel. When they finished, Simon leaned forward. “I thought you were so authentic… Your voice is fantastic. And you’ve got a great chemistry together. I love the song choice personally. I really like both of you.” It’s the kind of feedback that puts wind in a new act’s lungs. You could see it on their faces as they waved off stage.
The season finds its balance
What made this week hit wasn’t size. It was mix. A teenager made the case that high training can be kind and fun at once. A husband-and-wife team framed spectacle as a relationship, then proved it by guessing a hotel key, a parking ticket number, and the string “L61700014F” with a palm pressed over her eyes. A young singer treated a televised stage as a place to say out loud that grief and anxiety follow you, then sang through it. The show also made room for a miss, and didn’t smirk when it came. It told a French daredevil to pick the next risk with care.
The judges stayed human through the whiplash. They hugged a trembling singer and told her she had range. They teased a mind-reading couple about the app that matched them, then put their shock into plain words: “How did you do that?” They stared at a tank and asked an artist to value his health. They said no when they had to.
Variety shows live and die on how they stack contrasts. This one stacked them cleanly. Joy lived next to danger. Craft lived next to heart. The ordinary details—the border collie–whippet mix, the waitress shift at Big Tom’s, the awkward metal turn from a Tennessee twenty‑three‑year‑old—made the stage feel less like a lottery and more like a day where every kind of performer gets a shot.
Watch the full video for the beats that don’t fit on the page: the dogs’ eager faces between tricks, the judges’ hands hovering over eyes while objects change hands, the moment a Dutch singer steadies her breath and claims the room. The season is still sorting itself out. After Week 4, you can see who might anchor it.
