TV Eye: Crash and learn

The third season of NZ Idol opened with the worry that the pool has been well and truly drained. And that's just in terms of the new judges, who spent the opening scenes of Sunday's first instalment working themselves into a lather promising friction and discord. Talk about manufacturing dissent.

As for the talent, the fact that wannabe idols now have to be lured with cash and a car (a recording contract was obviously too onerous a commitment for any commercial interests), isn't too promising either.

When the show launched into a montage of wannabes after just two auditions, you definitely had the feeling it was going to be a slow year.

Still, the newbies on the judging panel were working their hard-asses off. The scorching putdowns of radio host Iain Stablesare more colourful than witty and the act could soon pall, but he takes the prize for causing jaws to hit the floor.

Meanwhile, Megan Alatini found it hard to know when to shut up, rambling on with all the authority of having once been a member of a short-lived, made-for-TV girl band.

On the bright side, it was gratifying to see that contestants have now fully grasped the reality TV concept of grabbing your 15 seconds with both hands, no matter the talent deficit: an OTT 'fro works, as does the old "I'm a star" affirmations in front of the bathroom mirror routine. The use of the frame was novel, as was its owner's delusion that he could possibly imitate a slick, CGI-enhanced Bernard Fanning music vid.

Of course, the award for the most staged piece of lunacy went to the chap described as the "first heavy metal Harry Potter", but who came across more as a young accountant doing Slipknot at the office Christmas party. And it's good to see an enterprising stage mum getting a slice of the action by issuing stern warnings to judges who might be contemplating insulting her offspring.

But the show left us with the less-than-scintillating teaser of a trip to Whangarei, where Stables was going to personally audition some poor young hopeful. Will she make it or be left in a shrivelled heap on the floor? Do we care?

Perhaps the Idol franchise could take a lesson in cliff-hangers from last night's Lost finale, which in the time-honoured tradition of the surreal-conspiracy shows delivered only answers which raised more questions.

Who made the giant statue of a four-toed human foot? Who are the Others, really? Is it possible for a viewer to die of flashback sickness, or at least sustain permanent chronological harm from all that whizzing back to characters' pasts?

Why does expat Kiwi actor Alan Dale always get to play the corporate bad guy? Why do they keep talking about being trapped in a snowglobe when it's a tropical island? Will that weird electro-magnetic field cause another plane to crash? Etc.

However, after a superb second season awash with ever-increasing paranoia, we emerge none the wiser but with a handy new vocabulary to express essential Lost concepts, as in: Locke (v), to suffer a hitch in your spiritual software which causes your metaphysical worldview to momentarily freeze; Jack (n), a doctor with a God complex; Kate (n), a contemptuous laugh at the testosterone-charged follies of men; and Sawyer (v), to adopt an ersatz toughness to conceal a certain softness for the ladies.

Come to think of it, there's potential in this area from NZ Idol, too: Stables (n), a short-range weapon designed to inflict maximum injury to the ego without actually causing death.