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After eight series of manipulated freakery, what possible extremity of human nature could Big Brother present to us? We’ve had a singing lesbian nun, a tearful transsexual and a former dental nurse who ignited an international race controversy.

Well, they’ve done it again. For the ninth series there’s a blind cross-dresser, revelling in his collection of sexy stockings, two contestants who have fled persecution in Sierra Leone and Somalia — both of whom disavow any political identity — and to ensure conflict, another housemate who is anti-immigration. An albino called Darnell, who was “too black for white kids and too white for black kids” and who had never seen Big Brother, must have had a giant acceptance tick on his application form from the moment it landed.

Alongside these beacons of one-offery, a smattering of Big Brother familiars: a screaming queen from Scotland, two black women who got booed just for looking stern, and nervy eccentrics in the politics student who doesn’t smoke or swear and two girls who can’t stop talking and will drive their peers and us mad. It’s a calculated rainbow nation, but will the reality of day-to-day living be as colourful as the personalities of the contestants?

Before the 16 housemates settled in, Davina McCall did her familiar breathless survey of the house, demolished and rebuilt since last year but oddly looking not that different.

There are the usual built in booby-traps: a nice bedroom with plush carpets and sumptuous beds and one with threadbare floor and thin mattresses. There is a prison and padded cell for housemates who break the rules. Big Brother, we were told, was going to be a “brutal landlord” showing “zero tolerance”. The housemates must buy “tokens” for basics. Is this some kind of self-flagellation on the part of the show to express how grown-up and responsible it has become? Are producers expecting an outbreak of knife crime?

There is already a plot conceit: after four housemates had entered the house, Big Brother’s first couple, Mario and Lisa, were broken up. Mario, 43, must pretend to be the partner of Stephanie, 19. Lisa and Luke (the politics student) must keep up the pretence or face the public vote. “I’m old enough to be her father,” said Mario, “I should pretend to be a professional footballer.” Lisa’s face froze. The ruse seems to be unravelling: Mario, hamfistedly, introduced himself to each new housemate as “Hi, I’m Mario, and this is my partner Stephanie, we’re the first Big Brother couple — we’ve been together EIGHT MONTHS.” Stephanie, surrounded by single male totty and forced to be partnered with a guy who’d spent way too long in a gym and on a sunbed, smiled desperately.

As the housemates, in varying states of undress and hysteria, entered the house, McCall delivered biographical titbits: Rachel the trainee teacher had two terriers and geese. Dale the sexy student gave himself 4/10 for generosity. Alexandra the accounts executive had a daughter at 16. Rex the executive chef had a gay dad and would sleep with anyone for fifty quid. The two Muslim contestants, Alexandra and Mohamed (great Afro), drank and went to nightclubs. Rebecca the nursery nurse felt she was “on a level” with her four-year-old charges.

Finally, right at the end, a rollicking, early favourite: in gold, glittery platform boots and ridiculous pink PVC dress, Kathreya from Thailand beamed and walked gingerly into the house. She dreams of towns made of cookies, then dreams of eating the buildings. The crowd, who boo like most of us breathe, knew how to spot a diamond and cheered loudly.

On Sunday, McCall promised, Mario and Stephanie will be married for real — “or so they’ll think”. The circus is back in town. It knows it probably isn’t welcome by many, but it will set up its gaudy rides and stalls regardless, knowing that sooner or later we’ll be guzzling candyfloss and screaming our heads off on the waltzers.

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