Bravo is the perfect name for a cable channel that deserves so little praise: It must toast itself. Every time it launches a new, junky reality series – like “Party/Party,” premiering tonight at 9 p.m.- It’s another reminder of just how pointless Bravo has become. Owned by NBC and overseen by the hand of network schlockmeister Jeffrey Zucker, Bravo’s addiction to reality TV has turned it into a home for wayward concepts and tawdry themes that play to the lowest common denominator of the television audience.

The premise of “Party/Party” doesn’t differ from that of most other reality shows, particularly those with the Bravo brand name attached; yet again, mockery and exploitation serve as the main editorial motivations. This time, the show’s sleazy producers have cloaked their condescending intentions in a seemingly innocent premise: an eight-part inside look at the American party culture. Of course, with that sort of sweeping (and vague) mandate, the topic ends up swerving – as it typically does in reality television – over to issues of class difference. In doing so, it becomes, as usual, a chronicle of human behavior that’s painful to watch.

Was it when Cherylynne Casabonne whacked Brandon, her preteen son, in the face with her ring-fingered hand? Or when Emily and Rudy Macias dragged their 18-year-old daughter, Christina, to buy a graduation party dress at the $3.99 thrift shop? It’s hard to decide which scenes in “Party/Party” seem most designed to make us hate the people we meet on this cross-country journey. This week, two families – one upper middle class in Orange County, Calif., and one lower middle class in Las Vegas – invite Bravo’s cameras to follow their daughters’ high school graduation parties, with hideous results.

This episode follows two girls on the verge of independence, as they struggle with controlling parents and incipient sexuality. In the span of an hour, what can happen when a family entrusts its 15 minutes of fame to producers hell-bent on exploitation? As portrayed by executive producers Fenton Bailey and Randy Barbato, the Casabonne family revels in the excess of their party: casino tables, dance floors, and hotel rooms all figure in their plans. The Macias clan – headed by a construction worker who helped build the Bellagio Hotel – can barely afford the food and drink. In both cases, the specter of alcoholism hovers over the proceedings; the Macias family bickers over booze, while Ms. Casabonne practically pours vodka down the throats of her daughter’s friends. A visit to the party from the local police barely deters the woman from her mission to intoxicate underage drinkers.

In different hands, “Party/Party” might have made for a fascinating look at how families of different socioeconomic backgrounds deal with the same social quandaries. But the act of following innocent people around and waiting for them to say embarrassing and hurtful things to or about one another – “I call her the beast,” says Cherylynne Casabonne of her daughter, Justine, “because it’s nicer than calling her the bitch” – ought to be discouraged by discerning television executives, not rewarded. It’s sad enough that people want so desperately to be on television that they’ll reveal their deepest character flaws; does Bravo have to keep encouraging them with an endless stream of opportunities?

Future episodes go even further in flagrantly displaying the extremes of human behavior. In one, 5-year-old Kacey Karkoska of Laguna Beach, Calif., gets a $10,000 “princess party” in which all the guests must dress as royalty. In another, a double bar mitzvah for Dustin and Benjamin Lewis costs too much for a mother of six; according to Bravo, she “will have to beg, borrow, and beg some more to get everything she wants … and she wants a lot!” That is meant to contrast with a $200,000 bat mitzvah for Annabel Swartz of New York City, whose guests will be entertained by a hip-hop dance troupe flown in from Martha’s Vineyard.

The producers of “Party/Party” know better. They’re responsible for documentaries like “Inside Deep Throat” and “The Eyes of Tammy Faye,” and created the “Brilliant but Cancelled” series for Trio. Why they feel a compulsion to line their wallets by taking advantage of innocent Americans desperate for fame is a question only they can answer. Maybe someday a Bravo reality show will explore the personal lives of Messrs. Bailey and Barbato – producers who seem to enjoy making fun of people who naively agree to let them into their lives. That’s one series I’ll watch with pleasure.

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Once again, the Foxwoods Hotel & Casino has come up with one of the smartest advertising campaigns in television. For years I loved its catchy jingle (“Life is good, life is sweet, grab yourself a front-row seat!”), and now I’m infatuated with its funny new premise. In one, two men dressed as pears get pummeled by three men in orange suits; only at the very end is the point revealed. “Three of a kind beats two pair,” the on-screen caption tells us matter-of-factly, letting the visual pun sink in slowly. Another commercial shows a king coming out of a bathroom, followed by the message: “Nothing beats a royal flush.” I’ll never quite understand why a Connecticut casino has the most consistently entertaining commercials on television, but it does.

dblum@nysun.com