Didn't Utah look good on "American Idol" last week?

Viewers across America saw the Wasatch Mountains sitting majestically behind Simon, Paula, Randy and the new girl. They saw plenty of blue skies and natural wonders. And they heard about Utah's musical heritage as the home to David Archuleta and "High School Musical." (Not everybody can be Motown.)

Yes, the overarching message of last week's "American Idol" episode, shot last summer and fall when thousands auditioned in Salt Lake City, was that Utah is loaded with natural beauty and homegrown talent.

But the show's producers, intentionally or not, reinforced these four common stereotypes about Utahns:

We are nice to a spooky degree » The producers created a montage of auditioners smiling and saying "Thank you" as the judges thwarted their musical dreams. Even Tara Matthews, the Goth chick (which we know aren't as rare here as the show suggested) who was roundly rejected for her baby-doll voice, was polite as she flipped off the camera on her way out of the building. Host Ryan Seacrest even felt obliged to go out into the waiting area to talk to the would-be contestants -- essentially telling them they had to run over their grandmothers if they wanted to be on the show.

We are whiter than white » With the striking exception of the gorgeous Samoan teen Taylor Viafuana from Hurricane, the Utah contestants were predominantly blonde and Nordic. Also, we have strange definitions of what "soul" music is: One auditioner thought it was just singing bass notes, while Austin Sisneros -- the studly senior-class president of Riverton High School -- said it was a song by the children's-music star Raffi.

We too readily evoke God » There seemed to be a higher-than-average number of church-based or inspirational tunes in the Utah repertoire: Viafuana sang a gospel song; Sisneros' Raffi song was very inspirational, and the very first auditioner sang a number by the Christian group Take 6.

We can't throw a rock without hitting an Osmond » That first auditioner was David Osmond, son of Alan Osmond -- Donny's big sibling and one of the original Osmond Brothers. He provided the show a heartbreaking personal story of both father and son dealing with multiple sclerosis, as well as a chance to rehash with some irony the Osmonds' cleancut musical dynasty.

The "Idol" producers didn't do this maliciously -- and if you asked them, they probably think they didn't insult or condescend at all. But they are slick Hollywood professionals, and used to dealing with people as jaded and cutthroat as they are. Faced with good old middle-American sincerity, like they found in Utah, they don't know what to do with themselves.

Sean P. Means writes the Culture Vulture in daily blog form at blogs.sltrib.com/vulture.