Canadian Idol Premiere Raises The Bar For Public Humiliation... Again

What's that sickly sweet fragrance floating in the air? Is it honeysuckle? Sunscreen? Slurpees? Or is it the collective scent of desperation emanating from thousands of Canadian Idol hopefuls who aspire to everlasting fame by joining the ranks of industry A-listers Ryan Malcolm, what's-her-face and that guy with the hair? Why, it's a heady combination of all of the above. Summertime has officially arrived.

Tuesday night's Canadian Idol premiere gave its adoring public exactly what it wanted: oodles of young people whose well-meaning moms have so thoroughly supported their delusions of talent over the years that they can't even fathom that they aren't the next Whitney Houston, Celine Dion or Engelbert Humperdinck.

There are two interesting new additions this season. Hopefuls are now allowed to accompany themselves on the musical instrument of their choice, effectively doubling the chances of them completely sucking. And there's a new roving reporter named Dave Kerr, who doesn't initially appear to be as irritating and corrosively unfunny as Jon Dore. Still, we'll be keeping a watchful eye on him. (This should be easy enough, since he's kind of a dreamboat.)

Auditions got off to a rocky start in Toronto, where a no-talent no-goodnik smashed his guitar in anger, another guy hocked a loogie onto the carpet, and judge Zack Werner revealed a scraggly salt-and-pepper goatee that makes him look every inch a Shakespearean villain. Gross!

The first real cringe-inducing moment of the season came when Mike Marges was rejected after a horrendous rendition of "Can You Feel The Love Tonight?" Marges responded by being irrationally confrontational and even directed an incomprehensible rant at the camera. It's OK, Mike. Your mom still loves you.

Angela Parent was equally mouthy, tearing a strip off the judges with language that an eighth grader might use to confront the class gossip in the locker room. Snap! You go, girlfriend! Humiliating yourself on national television is, like, soooo totally empowering.

Even with the inclusion of an adorable marriage proposal, the most touching moment of the show belonged to Krista Poirier when she showcased heartfelt (if ill-conceived) "hip-hop moves." This had the potential to become a circus of William Hung-like proportions, but we Canadians are just too darned nice. Judges Farley Flex and Sass Jordan looked about ready to weep for the girl and even offered up gentle encouragement. And then they moved on. Bravo.

Haligonian Ashley Daniels was easily one of the highlights of the parade of horrors that the long-suffering judges had to endure. This firecracker was much like Sally Bowles -- except without talent. Defending herself against the judges' attacks, she declared, "One of my grandfather's friends is like, 'When you hit 19, I got a place to take you.'" Yikes! He didn't mean a recording studio, honey. (Unless that studio is equipped with a leather sofa, heavy blinds and a fridge full of Vex.)

And then there was Trevor Paul, the guy with the huge voice who couldn't remember the lyrics to his audition pieces, even after being given an unprecedented extra hour to study up. His lack of short-term memory sent him home. But something good can come of this mess: he and Brit from America's Next Top Model should totally go on a date — and then promptly forget each other's names. Reality TV love connection: yes!

Will the Idol hopefuls be any less sucky next week? In all likelihood, no. But we'll still be watching, because we're masochists like that. And so are you. Admit it.