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Canada definitely needs some form of reparations for this American-style trash, writes J. Kelly Nestruck.Paulina Stevens/Paramount +
Canada Shore is Paramount+’s first original Canadian series.
If it were its fifth, maybe it would be forgivable.
But, right now, the first two episodes alone (now available) are a great argument to revive the Digital Services Tax that Prime Minister Mark Carney axed last year as tribute to Paramount Skydance CEO David Ellison’s pal Donald Trump.
Canada definitely needs some form of reparations for this American-style trash, which rather than enriching our culture, debases it.
More like Paramount-, amirite?
Trashiness, of course, is the selling point of Canada Shore.
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This reality TV series set in Kelowna, B.C., is an offshoot of the long-running and loosely defined “Shore” franchise, which began on MTV with Jersey Shore in 2009.
The original American reality show introduced the world to the likes of Snooki and the Situation – self-described “guidos” and “guidettes” partying in a summer house in New Jersey, getting drunk, getting laid and getting melanoma due to over-tanning.
Its first hand-wringing detractors were Italian-American organizations who objected to the use of those slurs and its overall representation.
Canada Shore has no such subcultural or ethnic focus, so we’ll have to set up a more generalized Canadian anti-defamation league.
The Greater Toronto Area, which contributed half of this first and hopefully last season’s housemates, is already not particularly beloved by the rest of Canada, so it may not be able to claim damages.
But Atlantic Canada, which has about 10 per cent of Canada’s population but represents 30 per cent of the cast here, has a serious case for a class-action lawsuit.
Emmy, a young lady from Fredericton, is the most annoying of the housemates – and at the centre of the first two episodes as she develops an unrequited crush on a guy and then berates him and the girl he’s into. She slurs her way through almost every confessional.
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The young people on Canada Shore seem like victims, exploited by the reality television industrial complex.Paulina Stevens/Paramount+
“I bring the East Coast energy,” she says. Slander.
Christopher, the sole gay man in the house and someone who mistakes whining for wit, is runner-up for most irritating. “I literally have been kicked out of every club in Toronto,” he says – and you believe he has used literally in a correct way. He’s certainly never allowed on any screen in my house again.
The structure of Canada Shore as a reality series is as sloppy as the drunken make-outs it displays for entertainment.
It’s not a dating show and it’s not a competition show.
It’s a hangout show – and every so often the sad boozing and unsexy hookups and headache-inducing fighting around the hot tub are broken up by a “boss” showing up to make the housemates “work.”
The boss at first is past Big Brother Canada winner Dane Rupert, dubbed the Prince of Kelowna – and then Snooki herself shows up later.
There’s one young Canadian who comes across well in the show.
On one night out in Kelowna, the Canada Shore cast – behaving like yahoos in a town I thought was mostly about middle-aged wine tourism these days – is heckled by a woman we don’t see on camera.
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The executive producers for Paramount+ Canada listed in the credits are Vanessa Case and Doug Smith.Paulina Stevens/Paramount+
This individual yells out “attention whores” and “wannabes.” A true hero who gives me hope for the future of this country.
Though ultimately I also feel like the young people on Canada Shore are just victims, exploited by the reality television industrial complex.
In episode two, Ryleigh, a really very quite sweet gal from Bridgewater, N.S., talks about how her father took her to the park when she was three – and then she didn’t see him again for six years.
“Part of me feels like all my childhood stuff that happened had to happen in order for the universe to reward me with something like this,” she says.
It broke my heart that this kind soul thinks it is a reward for Paramount to make money off images of her puking on her first morning in the house.
There’s a brief disclaimer at the end of each episode: “Contributors have been offered professional support throughout the making and airing of this program.”
Sorry, that doesn’t let anyone off the hook behind the scenes for enabling and promoting unhealthy behaviour and championing stupidity.
Let’s name the folks behind it – such as executive producer and showrunner Erin Brock and executive producer John Brunton.
The executive producers for Paramount+ Canada listed in the credits, meanwhile, are Vanessa Case and Doug Smith.
You may have heard of Smith; he was just appointed the new executive vice-president of CBC.
I’m sure he was just following orders from his American bosses at Paramount+, of course, and will now develop shows in the public interest.
Or maybe secretly he sabotaged Canada Shore from within. Because while it’s tempting to view the show as a psy-op to corrupt and embarrass our youth, the result is too unwatchably dull to succeed.
