‘America’s Got Talent’ all about the Hasselhoff

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You see, at some point, right around the midpoint of "Baywatch," long after his stint on "Knight Rider," Hasselhoff became the Hasselhoff, and including him puts the show right where it wants to be, in terms of the balance between camp and … even more camp. If you're going to make a show where someone is going to sit on a judging panel and admit that he's deathly afraid of jugglers, you want it to be David Hasselhoff. Hasselhoff lends everything he touches an air of the surreal, like his very existence has become so ironic that it's no longer clear whether he's just uncool, so uncool that he's cool, or too much of a symbol of "so uncool he's cool" to actually be cool. The Hasselhoff works on a number of levels both hip and square, which is exactly what has elevated "American Idol" to its current lofty position.

Despite the arched eyebrow inherent in the display of many a misguided soul who has previously shown off his "talent" only to beleaguered relatives, there is genuine affection among the judges for many of the performers — especially the kids. Eleven-year-old Taylor Ware, who taught herself to yodel out of a book (or so she claims), has apparently warmed even the heart of the Mean Brit. The Miller Brothers received mixed news from the Mean Brit, however, when young LD was told that he would never be successful unless he ditched his dead-weight brother Cole. Seeing LD break up and seeing Cole try to reassure him was more than a little uncomfortable, but what's a talent show if you don't get to see a kid cry?

The adults are far more likely to take it on the chin. The Mean Brit has no tolerance for costume-based tomfoolery, which is fairly common in this skit-night environment. Hasselhoff has his previously mentioned fear of jugglers, and the entire judging panel turned en masse against an unsuspecting dog trainer when the second version of his act wasn't as lively as the first. Of course, getting to see a British guy kick a dog trainer around is probably worth sitting through a few guys in drag.

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What's odd is that what really sticks out on "America's Got Talent" are the contestants who seem too pedestrian — who have talent in a manner that's too obvious. By the time the first round of semifinals came around, the pleasant-voiced woman singing "Knockin' On Heaven's Door" seemed remarkable for her ordinariness, even though she was playing the harp at the time. You can imagine that woman being asked to play weddings. You can imagine hearing her entertaining the crowd at your favorite fancy restaurant. Similarly, the cabaret guy who was told by the Mean Brit to head for Broadway got a bit lost in the shuffle. There's already a place in the world for the cabaret guy, provided he's prepared to beat up Michael Buble.

No, this show is for the yodelers and puppeteers, for the guys who balance stoves on their chins and have nowhere else to turn. They've made their Web sites, they've won a talent contest at church — perhaps the breakdancing cow didn't, but the point remains the same. Without this show, they would toil in obscurity forever, wondering when someone was going to suddenly realize that they haven't seen a truly great contortionist doing archery in quite a long time. Their "talent" in hand, they have answered the call of Simon Cowell, and surprisingly, America has welcomed them, balloon animals and all.

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