Self-improving celebs make for good television

It’s a good time to be a celebrity in search of a little self-improvement: humbling via reality television has moved past the curious novelty phase into a full-blown component of career reinvention. Liked the actress? You’ll love the addict.

Nowhere are these reinventors more welcome than VH1, which has cultivated a pair of franchises around the theme: “Celebrity Rehab With Dr. Drew” (10 p.m. Thursdays) and “Celebrity Fit Club: Boot Camp” (9 p.m. Mondays).

Some celebrities probably could have gone either way. Two current “Fit Club” cast members, Bobby Brown and Nicole Eggert, appear to have issues with alcohol, though it’s largely discussed with them in terms of empty calories.

Even without the overlap, the pathologies on the shows are much the same, as are the solutions: rules, rules, some talking, and more rules. For people accustomed to living without boundaries or consequences, this can be challenging and therefore make for vibrant television. The defenses they’d spent years building up to become famous are just as entertaining as they crumble down.

On “Rehab,” the collapses are pronounced, though really they’ve been in motion since well before the cameras began rolling. Longtime drug abusers such as actor Tom Sizemore and country singer Mindy McCready have battled their demons in public for years.

The participants in this show mostly give in to the process or appear to. Joey Kovar, a former “Real World” cast member, practically hyperventilates during an exercise in channeling aggression. Mike Starr, Alice in Chains’ bassist, is desperate to shake the memory of his band’s singer, Layne Staley, who died of an overdose in 2002. The dissenters are just as compelling. For the first few episodes, former basketball star Dennis Rodman flatly refuses to admit he has an alcohol problem. And Kari Ann Peniche, a petulant and entitled former Miss Teen U.S.A., is like a frightened animal, lashing out at the tiniest provocations. (Last year she appeared on “Sex Rehab With Dr. Drew” but was forced to leave for erratic behavior.)

Despite the durability of these programs, television hasn’t completely warmed to the idea of the professionalized wash-up. “I’m a Celebrity . . . Get Me Out of Here” wasn’t a hit, and there’s yet to be a “Celebrity Big Brother” here, as in England.

Redemption narratives and an intolerance for glibness are what keeps these shows afloat, not fame. From its first season, “Fit Club” has been as emotionally taxing as it is physically, not much different from any of several weight-loss-minded shows. In fact, the distance between “Celebrity Fit Club” and “The Biggest Loser” is getting ever smaller. (“Biggest Loser” contestants pop up in the tabloids more than “Fit Club” stars.)

“Celebrity Fit Club: Boot Camp,” the show’s seventh cycle, includes actual celebrities (including Bobby Brown and Sebastian Bach, habitual abusers of celeb-reality) and a tabloid habitué, the surprisingly pleasant Kevin Federline, mixed with reality TV alumnae: Jay McCarroll, winner of the first “Project Runway,” and Tanisha Thomas, who was the loudest explosion among several firecrackers on the second season of reality show “The Bad Girls Club.” For her, “Fit Club” is a step up.

It’s also torture. At least she didn’t get injured, as two cast members (Bach and the actress Shar Jackson, who is also the mother of two children with Federline) already have been.

As he did on “Runway,” McCarroll threatens to steal the show at every turn here but not for his comic flamboyance. Instead, he’s droll: After working with Nicole Eggert during a challenge, he noted, “Nicole had good ideas with water stuff because she had worked in water in the past, and by water, I mean ‘Baywatch.’ ” He’s perceptive and sympathetic, remarking on how the private Federline -- “The more fat that I got, the more I deteriorate on the inside,” Federline says -- differs radically from the public one.

And McCarroll, who is gay, is ready to grow, breaking down in tears while talking about how his clothes, his sunglasses, and his fat have all been obstacles to self-acceptance. In the premiere, he completed a difficult physical challenge that even Federline quit. Of the subsequent thrill, McCarroll said, “I didn’t even know I could be masculine.” He’s not just unraveling but rebuilding too.

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