The new “Vanderpump Rules” is Bravo’s losing bet

You can’t teach an old dog new tricks, but you can ply it with an endless supply of free alcohol in hopes that it will do something just as entertaining. While that may not exactly be ethical, it’s no more morally unconscionable than what Bravo’s done with “Vanderpump Rules,” one of the network’s flagship reality franchises, now remixed and reduced to a boozy, incestuous flea farm.

When Bravo announced in late 2024 that the long-running reality series following Lisa Vanderpump and the team of wannabe stars comprising the staff at her West Hollywood eatery, SUR, would be rebooted with an entirely new cast, the news caused a commotion — a SUR stir, if you will. Just one year prior, “Vanderpump” broke containment, blowing past reality television circles and into headline news when a cheating scandal between stars Ariana Madix and Tom Sandoval, dubbed “Scandoval,” shocked longtime viewers and piqued outsiders’ curiosity. After 10 years on the air, “Vanderpump” cracked the stratosphere. The show’s influence became undeniable overnight. It also backed the series into a corner. There was no way that the current cast could replicate something as juicy as a star cheating on his co-star girlfriend with another fellow co-star, all behind Madix’s back. After one more season digging into the aftermath of Scandoval, “Vanderpump” retooled, waving goodbye to fan favorites and welcoming a new collection of bronzed, leathery hotties, consumed by the deafening tick of the clock, hoping to make it big before their time is up.

But in its twelfth season, the new “Vanderpump” is standing still instead of moving forward. Producers and editors seem entirely befuddled by what to do with this new cast, unable to locate the line between organic intrigue and manufactured drama. And while there are some charming new additions to the franchise that may be capable of leading it into a new era, Bravo’s continued preoccupation with dumping dysfunctional casts instead of pursuing a thoughtful reformulation combining old and new does not portend an easy road to success. The network may be able to lure in a younger crowd with these fresh faces, but by chasing after the new, hot thing to keep up with increased competition, Bravo and “Vanderpump Rules” are getting as lost in the sauce as the SUR waitstaff.

It’s not that “Vanderpump Rules” was ever the pinnacle of elegance and grace. This is the show that began as a backdoor pilot from “The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills,” when Scheana Shay, a SUR server, was caught up in a messy affair scandal with Eddie Cibrian, married at the time to Brandi Glanville, and also later stepping out with LeAnn Rimes. To its credit, “Vanderpump Rules” has always known its place. This is a show for people who like to unwind by watching people make messiness into their brand, or relive their not-so-glorious days behaving badly in shoddily run, dimly lit restaurants like SUR. That Vanderpump opens Season 12 by insisting people still come to SUR for the food, drinks and atmosphere is laughable. Anyone who’s eaten there knows the only reason one would choke down goat cheese balls or an allegedly bowel-ruining white fish in orange cream sauce is for the chance to catch some on-camera action. And, for what it’s worth, the new cast seems committed to stirring up chaos within the confines of the restaurant, which was largely an afterthought by the time the old cast finished their run.

(Casey Durkin/Bravo) Audrey Lingle, Demy Selem, Kim Suarez and Natalie Maguire in “Vanderpump Rules”

Joining the show are Venus, a token gay guy with hair so long it has almost certainly ended up in someone’s side salad; Demy, SUR’s assistant manager; Marcus, a smarmy casanova who likes to drink on the job; Natalie, an aspiring singer boldly bringing vocal fry to pop music; Audrey, Sydney Sweeney’s long-lost twin with equally dismal screen presence; Chris and Jason, half-cousins whose eyebrows are battling for airtime; and Kim, who is proof that “Real Housewife of New Jersey” star Melissa Gorga has access to the Substance. Editors spend the languid first episode trying to give each new cast member enough time to stand out, but only Venus, Marcus, Chris and Kim have what it takes to become America’s Next Top Trainwreck. And, of course, there is Lisa, who spends the first episode doing a posh take on Diane Keaton’s “Annie Hall” wardrobe, complete with a lavender cravat. In spirit, it doesn’t feel like much has changed, but it’s impossible to shake the feeling that nothing will ever be quite the same again.

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I’ve been bought, sold and repurchased by Bravo more times than I can count. I’ve dipped out, cannonballed back in, and kicked my feet so hard trying to tread roiling waters that I thought I’d surely drown before I could rescue myself. Anyone who has proudly abstained from the Bravoverse before finding themselves yanked by the ankle, and having their lives and viewing habits changed forever in the process, knows this feeling well. There’s a reluctance baked into Bravo obsession, like an escape hatch one can use when their favorite shows start to dull — and they always will, even if their quality eventually turns back around. Watching these shows often feels good, but they don’t nourish the soul. And the longer viewers spend watching their favorite franchises, the more they’re able to recognize a point of no return.

“The Real Housewives of New York” was the first Bravo series to reach this threshold. Fans complained online for months about the show spinning its wheels. And when the cast’s antics became too much for the network to defend and fund, the solution was to put the show on pause before scrapping the beloved cast that had been with the show for decades, and were responsible for some of the best moments in television, reality or otherwise. The plan did not work. The new “RHONY” lasted two seasons before being sent back to the factory for another facelift, and the series remains in limbo.

(Casey Durkin/Bravo) Lisa Vanderpump and Natalie Maguire in “Vanderpump Rules”

But this shake-up had an inadvertent side effect Bravo execs may not have anticipated. The “RHONY” reboot only made viewers miss the original Housewives even more, and the women have been on a media crusade to get their show back in some form for the last couple of years. While the network has tried to sate its audience, no “Ultimate Girls Trip” or “Simple Life”-esque spinoff has quite hit the mark like “RHONY” classic could. The decision to retool the show was a losing gamble, ostensibly sacrificing hundreds of thousands of dollars and countless fans, who searched for their preferred flavor of drama elsewhere.

In recent years, Hulu and Peacock — the latter of which is the streaming extension of Bravo’s parent company, NBCUniversal — have become ideal destinations for reality lovers over the network that was once synonymous with guilty pleasure reality TV viewing. The hype train has picked up a new demographic along the way, too, attracting younger viewers with “Love Island” and “The Traitors” spinoffs on Peacock, and “The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives” and “Vanderpump Villa” on Hulu. Yes, even Lisa Vanderpump is smart enough to hedge her bets and take her business elsewhere, even if she hasn’t left Bravo behind. Though Bravo isn’t necessarily hemorrhaging viewership, the network is clearly struggling to cast a wider net while catering to what its loyal audience wants. And by slashing the entire “Vanderpump” cast at the height of the show’s popularity instead of slowly introducing a new mix of SUR staffers, it only looks as though Bravo is scrambling to figure out what does and doesn’t work in real time.

(Griffin Nagel/Bravo) Chris Hahn and Shayne Davis in “Vanderpump Rules”

One of Bravo’s biggest issues is figuring out how to appeal to younger viewers. How does the network reckon with something like the TikTok-spawned “The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives” becoming such a sensation, especially since its popularity directly capitalized on Bravo’s “The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City.” The network’s direct competitors have yet to beat Bravo at their own game, but Bravo’s game is quickly turning stale. If the network’s solution to any problem is to panic and drop an entire cast, why should viewers waste their time growing to love a franchise that could be dismantled at the first sign of trouble?

As both the new “Vanderpump” and the still-shuttered “RHONY” suggest, viewers don’t come to Bravo’s programming for character archetypes and pervasive yet incomprehensible “drama.” Audiences want the personalities that are tried and tested, who have proven their worth in front of the camera. Any rich woman in New York’s social scene or West Hollywood bartender reading pages for pharmaceutical ads between their restaurant shifts won’t do. While the new “Vanderpump” cast still has the chance to succeed where “RHONY” could not, they face a greater challenge than resisting the call of booze while on the clock: carving out a compelling character arc for a network that will sack them the moment they stop performing to vague, unwritten standards.