Over the years, I’ve come to consider myself an arbiter of what is and is not real in reality television. But truthfully, to watch any modern reality show, you’ve got to put your big, cartoonish dunce hat on for a bit. The level of producer interference that goes on just behind the cameras while franchises like Real Housewives and Vanderpump Rules are filming can up the tension, sure, but it also manufactures it. Producers know how to best create a memorable moment, and they encourage the talent they’re overseeing to give a scheduled shoot day their all. There’s money, ratings, and livelihoods at stake, which means that the drama must be served on a silver platter.
In Vanderpump Villa, a sort-of-but-not-really spin-off of Vanderpump Rules that begins airing April 1 on Hulu, that silver platter gets an upgrade to platinum. Lisa Vanderpump is doing a “trial run” of a new venture in her line of luxury hospitality businesses, this time at a remote French estate called Château Rosabelle, where guests are treated to the finest bespoke experiences during their stay. It’s clear that this “trial run” Lisa keeps talking about refers more to Vanderpump Villa than this hospitality enterprise itself—the chateau in question is a rented mansion where anyone can book an event. It’s almost too easy to spot the puppeteer strings while watching this show, but that’s what makes it so enjoyable.
There is a degree of carelessness and forgery to Vanderpump Villa’s construction, one that nobody is trying to gussy up as authenticity. It’s nice to see a seasoned reality vet like Vanderpump drop the facade while still setting out to make an engaging show. At times, this plays almost like a televised experiment: Where is the line with reality TV believability, and how far can it be moved before viewers check out? Turns out: Pretty far! Vanderpump Villa is, by no means, the surefire organic hit that Vanderpump Rules turned out to be. But the show has legs, and a well-casted, ego-forward staff to boot. Block out some extra filming dates at the Château St. Joseph—er, Château Rosabelle!—because there’s a decent new entry into the Vanderpump Televised Universe on the horizon.
If you’re like me, and you scraped the bottom of the barrel by watching Lindsay Lohan’s Beach Club on MTV in 2018, you’ll recognize the bones of Vanderpump Villa; Lohan did, after all, sort of ape the concept of her short-lived disaster from Vanderpump Rules in the first place. But Villa is much more like Beach Club than Vanderpump Rules. There’s a collection of narcissistic hotties flown in to work as the staff; guests cycle through the chateau, treated to opulent events and a front-row ticket to the staff members fighting; and an aloof woman with an accent is hovering, waiting to provide a new, vague set of conflicting rules by which the business must operate.
Naturally, this creates disarray, which is interesting but not inherently compelling. Vanderpump, however, has been at this game long enough, and she understands just how to poke and prod her staff to get them to do what she wants in front of the cameras. Of course, it helps to hire a bunch of people who, at the time of writing, have between 1,000 and 5,000 followers on Instagram each and work in the hospitality industry. These are the kinds of characters who can sniff out D-List fame like a dog trained to smell death, which makes them the perfect people to throw in front of a camera.
There are 12 staff members working at Château Rosabelle (not including Vanderpump), but not all of them make a major impression. The ones you’ll need to know about are as follows: events coordinator Stephen, a gay guy who, for whatever reason, sometimes wears terrifying “Thriller” video-style contacts; Telly, a mixologist who seems to see this as her ticket to a permanent open bar; Eric, the hunky chateau manager with no eye for style; Priscila, a server who, early-on, gets caught in the crosshairs of another couple’s drama; and another mixologist, Marciano, and his server ex-girlfriend, Hannah, who arrive at the estate freshly broken up.
This group is particularly good at taking the bait for dramatic tension and running with it. Even when their fighting seems synthetic, it works because of how committed the cast is to going all out with their spats. When reality shows hire people who don’t yet have a large following but are keen to take their career in a new direction with a rare opportunity, I truly believe they will do anything they’re told. Even if producers aren’t feeding them storylines, this staff knows how to apply the heat. Hospitality-focused reality shows need cast members like this, who don’t seem to care that their professional lives could forever be traced back to their televised indiscretions, even if they might be playing a caricature of a bad employee by dialing up the theatrics. That fearlessness can’t be made, but it can be found in the nightclubs of Vegas and Florida, wearing lacquered-on skinny jeans, and ready to be flown to France for an all-expense-paid, filmed vacation.
Anyone coming to Vanderpump Villa for a look at high-class, tailored luxury experiences designed by Vanderpump will be treated to some Pinterest porn, but not much else. The guests at Château Rosabelle take a back seat to the staff’s drama, which is ultimately for the best. However, there are some noteworthy moments among the guests, like when a visitor named Harlan arrives to celebrate her recent facial feminization surgery with a crew of friends. Harlan steps into her Butterfly Ball—perfected to the last detail by Vanderpump—set to “Je T’Adore” by Kim Petras, which is so glaringly on the nose that I couldn’t help but chuckle. Trans woman singer? Check. French lyrics? Check. There’s not a lick of subtlety here. If you glance at it too closely, you can see that Vanderpump Villa is a show held together with sticks, Elmer’s glue, and hope. And that’s what I like about it.
Vanderpump Rules had a similarly crude start, but it ultimately became an undeniable hit. That might be a bit trickier for Villa, given that SUR, the restaurant at the center of the Vanderpump Rules, was a legitimate business that viewers could patronize. Château Rosabelle, aka Château St. Joseph, is still taking bookings on Tripadvisor. But that’s why Vanderpump and co. made sure that their staff would get some good fights right out of the gate, to make their time at the estate so unforgettable.
Yes, Vanderpump Villa is one big mirage. This is a rented estate, an amateur cast, and a show that repeatedly reminds you that its continued existence hinges on how much viewers like what they see. But like a hallucination of an island oasis amongst the desert, are we not briefly entertained by the illusion of it being real? The vision is enough to sustain me, at least until I reach something more substantial.
