Speaking of clunky, robot-in-training Brooke Burns made the unnecessary transition from hostess of Dog Eat Dog to night time soap luminary in a fitfully painful way. Brooke, starring as the sexy new guest relations exec at James Remar's Hawaiian resort, embraces every scene with an enthusiastically blank expression which seems unfazed by any actorly obligations such as reactions or emotion. I'd like to think that she's engaging in her own study of the Kuleshov Effect, but I think it has more to do with Botox and a debilitating lack of talent.

And yet, whenever Brooke - aka Nicole - was on screen, I was riveted by her vapid execution of even the simplest lines like the one-word doozy "Jason?" Once in a while, the script called for her to be smart or tough as nails, a task to which Ms. Burns sunk to the occasion. If only Linda Fiorentino were about ten years younger...

Or if only radiant guest star Brittany Daniels were offered the role instead. North Shore was very kind to the Sweet Valley High twin, who had her fair share of stunning closeups and flattering lighting. Her subplot even had a nifty twist. Turns out Brittany's tennis star character likes her doubles unmixed. We should have seen it a mile away, especially with Martina trying to stage a comeback tour these days, but we'll take the ounce of originality where we can get it.

The rest of the show was enjoyably predictable with our hero, Jason (played by some guy from Roswell or something like that) trying to hold the resort together. He ambled from subplot to subplot - often bringing a smile, his good nature, and a little moral high ground to any given situation. His lifeguard buddy, Gabriel (sort of a younger, more jacked Ben McKenzie), got into trouble with a jailbait hotel guest who insisted that 15 was the new 21 (nice try North Shore, but we'll get our witty banter from The OC, thank you very much). When Gabriel turned down the baby vixen's topless advances, she predictably told James Remar that she'd been attacked by the flaxen lifeguard. The unfortunate result of this was a bizarre heart-to-heart between the teen girl and Nicole. Proving the writers to be one group of sadistic motherfuckers, Brooke Burns was assigned the task of relating some childhood trauma of never having her daddy attend her ballet recitals. I don't know if the girl truly felt badly for Nicole or just wanted her to shut the hell up because next thing we know, she's suddenly telling her shrew mom that she lied. No comped room for you, biatch!