pulitzer-prize-winning television critic emily nussbaum on vanderpump rules

making some wonderful cross-cultural connections in this recent new yorker piece:

Beyoncé’s sumptuous adultery opera “Lemonade” came out the week that I began watching the Bravo reality series “Vanderpump Rules,” and it turned out to be an oddly appropriate soundtrack for the show. “What’s worse? Looking jealous or crazy?” Beyoncé croons in the video, swinging a baseball bat labelled “Hot Sauce.” “I really don’t want to cry off all this makeup I just put on,” a waitress named Scheana says on the show, struggling to compose herself for a photo shoot. “Something’s telling me I may or may not have a fake friend,” Ariana, another waitress, seethes, glaring over at Scheana.

I’d downloaded “Vanderpump Rules” onto my phone, so that I could watch the show’s four seasons more efficiently: on the F train, in line at the supermarket, and while drifting off to sleep, an approach that felt less like binge-watching than like inserting an I.V. of sangria. A humble spinoff of the sprawling “Real Housewives” multiverse, “Vanderpump Rules” revolves around the employees of SUR (an acronym for Sexy Unique Restaurant), a West Hollywood venue owned by Lisa Vanderpump, a longtime cast member of “The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills,” which ended its sixth season last week. I’d fallen so far behind on that show, I’d never catch up. Rather than approach the intimidating portal of the original franchise, with its decade-long cross-series feuds, jail sentences, life-style brands, divorces, and handbag lines, I would sneak in through the servants’ entrance.