Cult Kings Of Cool

Sydney Morning Herald

Monday December 22, 1997

Matt Buchanan

SOUTH PARK

SBS, 8.30pm

THIS animated half hour from the US has been described as "Peanuts on acid". Peanuts on everything but roller skates is more like it. And with a string of hip, recognisable influences to nod to and a string of hip, recognisable stars either directly involved (Isaac Hayes) or queueing to be involved (George Clooney), South Park will no doubt establish a cult with a capital "cool".

Set in a Springfieldesque town at the foot of the Rockies, South Park is a very freaky place. The characters look and sound freaky, too. Their crudely rendered heads are as round as soccer balls and as big as pumpkins: and their eyes appear to stare as if in disbelief at the squeaky, buzzy, squirrels-on-helium voices darting out of their scissor-lipped mouths. The show's colour palette is very primary and very shouty. And most of the characters are quite, quite mad.

In tonight's episode, the teacher, who talks to his class via a hand puppet (Mr Hat), is convinced by said puppet to assassinate the TV personality Kathy Lee Gifford. She is visiting the town for a televised award presentation for an essay by one of the children - "fat-ass" Cartman, who won by submitting Walden by Thoreau and crossing out the name.

It seems inevitable that any half-decent execution of small-town America will be from the hand of a lynch mob of influences including Twin Peaks, The Simpsons and early Roseanne; and there's no shame in being part of that gang if you deserve your place. And though South Park's survey of middle-American life is driven by a more vicious contempt than its antecedents, its garishness, deliberately naive styling, and guilt-free relish for vulgarity and things hardcore make it a deserving member. You just have to get used to its tone.

Remember when you thought it odd the Simpsons were yellow?