Shocking ‘South Park’ Debuts; Reaction Could Be Love Or Hate

Cavity probes, psychotic teachers and Kathie Lee Gifford: Life ain’t easy for the 8-year-old inhabitants of “South Park,” Comedy Central’s hilariously foul-mouthed animated series.

Debuting tonight with one of the most bizarre TV episodes since Laura Palmer’s murder, “South Park” is either the funniest new show on the air or the next sign of the apocalypse.

Most parents will agree with the latter. It’s hard to fathom a cartoon about four third-graders garnering a TV-MA rating (for ages 17 and over) - but most third-graders don’t make Richard Pryor sound like a choir boy.

The kids of “South Park,” named for the Colorado county in which series co-creator Trey Parker grew up, toss around the kind of language that might make Steven Bochco blush.

The show’s distinctive vocabulary is what has critics buzzing thus far, and rightfully so. They may be cute kids, with their rudimentary construction paper aesthetic and round-head, Peanuts-gang looks. They may inhabit an idyllic-looking, snow-covered small town. But it’s hard to remember 8-year-olds ever waxing this shade of blue.

Online mavens and film fest aficionados may recognize these tykes from “The Spirit of Christmas,” a holiday short that was allowed to take much greater language liberties than “Comedy Central.”

Like “South Park,” “Spirit” made up for its primitive animation by shocking the funny bone. It climaxed with a down-and-dirty battle royale between Jesus and Santa Claus, a showstopper that caught the attention of movie and TV execs. Comedy Central courted Parker and his partner in crime, fellow Colorado native Matt Stone, and inked the pair to a $2 million deal.

Parker and Stone have argued that there’s more to “South Park” than children swearing. One look at the show’s slogan - “Kids say the darndest things” - and you’re inclined to be skeptical. But “South Park” does indeed have an absurdist sense of humor to accompany the language, a rapid-fire, nothing-sacred sensibility. Love it, hate it, but never call it normal.

Tonight’s debut (10 p.m. PST, TCI Channel 42) finds the gang facing an intergalactic predicament. Cartman, or “fat-ass” as he’s known to friends, has been abducted by aliens in the middle of the night (the real South Park boasts the highest number of UFO sightings nationwide). He’s dispatched back to Earth, and his friends - the smart Kyle, the cute Stan and the inaudible Kenny, who dies in every episode - are quick to realize their big buddy now has a surveillance device planted in a certain bodily cavity.

The ensuing chaos is neither predictable nor tame, and if it doesn’t bring out the tasteless juvenile in you, then the little critter must be tucked away deep. Some of the material crosses the line; poor Kenny, of the many deaths, suffers a particularly gruesome fate, and bodily functions get a “Dumb and Dumber”-style workout.

That’s the stuff that makes you feel guilty for laughing. But when it’s not in gross-out mode, and often even when it is, “South Park” is weaving a surrealist satire of small-town America.

Much of the credit for this goes to “South Park’s” adults, a collection of abrasive and/or clueless authority figures who make you wonder what Charles Schulz’s invisible grown-ups might have looked like.

The boys’ teacher hides behind his alter-ego, a hand puppet named Hat who bursts into shouting fits and lectures on how Christopher Columbus helped the Indians in their war against Frederick Douglass. Cartman’s mom passively tells her son he’s not fat, just “big-boned,” and the town sheriff insists that inside-out cattle - a result of the alien invasions - are an everyday occurrence. You might curse up a blue streak, too, if these were your role models.

The UFOs certainly help; next week’s episode, which revolves around a celebrity visit from a cartooned Gifford, has lots of audacity without the smarts to back it up. With extraterrestrials providing the backdrop, the first “South Park” has the out-of-this-world premise to match the show’s guiding subversiveness.

The question is: How long can “South Park” keep it up? The novelty of a cartoon about irreverent tots could wear out in a big hurry, leaving parents to search for another clue to Western civilization’s imminent collapse.

Time will tell how well the “South Park” kids maintain the ability to shock and entertain. In the meantime, sidle up to the TV for some big-boned laughs - or get ready to write your cable company in protest.