'Parker' and 'Flipping Out' have style, not substance

If the success of a reality show rested solely on landscape architecture and interior design, Bravo's "Welcome to the Parker" would be a slam dunk. This tale of life behind the curtain at a Palm Springs resort is shimmering with visuals, from the meticulously manicured lawns to the room service delivered via rickshaw.

But this isn't a how-to show about hotel management, and no amount of margaritas from a fussy poolside bar can make up for a lack of juicy characters. VH1's modeling series, "The Agency," had boozy, whiny Becky. Bravo's inside-the-gym show, "Work Out," has a hard-core impresario named Jackie. "Welcome to the Parker" remains, in its first two installments, a series in search of an anchor.

It's not that the employees of the Parker Palm Springs hotel don't try; they've clearly been instructed to complain about each other on camera. But the bosses are too bland, and their staff isn't nearly self-destructive or abrasive enough to fulfill any train-wreck potential. The show's best hope might be Nathan, a hospitality lackey who struggles with social skills. If he were facile with a wisecrack, we might be onto something, but he treats every setback with a good-natured shrug.

As it is, with no clear focus, "Welcome to the Parker" is only a collection of hints and teases. We're told that celebrities come to play here, but Bravo's cameras are only privy to the crumbs; the first episode features a set of boozy ping-pong players and a food critic who violates the ethics of her trade by announcing her presence to the staff. (Yes, we learn along the way that Woody Allen gets a different quality of fruit basket than you or I. But to be fair, he's paying $8,000 a night for his room.)

A villain finally arrives in episode two, in the form of Jonathan Adler, who designed the Parker interiors. He arrives with strong opinions and a gassy Norwich terrier. And as the terrorizing judge of Bravo's "Top Design," he's familiar with the dramatic demands of the network's TV formula. Here, he's a gleeful force of evil, demanding that the hotel hire a full-time pillow-fluffer and staging a one-man protest when he learns the hotel might ban dogs. He rants telegenically for a good part of an hour. Then he checks out.

Fortunately, Jeff Lewis cannot check out of his own life, which is why "Flipping Out," another Bravo reality series that premieres next week, has far more potential. Lewis is a real estate speculator in Los Angles, juggling multimillion-dollar properties and turning dumps into palaces, but the trick is that he's also insane.

There are crazy people everywhere, but rich people can afford to be crazy in fascinating ways. Lewis takes out his obsessive-compulsive disorder on his furniture arrangements, consults with a cadre of psychics and spiritual advisers, arranges acupuncture for his cat, and partakes in a ritual that involves screaming loudly while lying beneath a Native American blanket.

"Flipping Out" also benefits from Lewis's codependent relationship with his staff; in true celebrity fashion, he treats his employees like dirt while professing that they're his family. And it helps that few of the side characters also happen to be aspiring actors -- notably, Lewis's "first assistant" Jenni, a dead ringer for Julia Louis-Dreyfus, and her husband, Chris, who has done his time as a field agent on "Punk'd."

They treat this little series like the break it might be, and prove that they know how to mug for the cameras. They're not bad to look at, either. But, true to that proven Bravo obsession with design, the houses are even more impressive.

Joanna Weiss can be reached at weiss@globe.com. For more on TV, go to viewerdiscretion.net.