Land of the Freeloaders

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ew of us have the talent or luck to become rock stars, billionaires or Presidents. The rest of us can only hope to be the cousin of the rock star, the best friend of the billionaire, the embarrassing sibling of the President.

Hanger-on-dom, that more attainable yet rarely celebrated dream, is the subject of HBO's summer sitcom Entourage (Sundays, 10 p.m. E.T.). Vince Chase (Adrian Grenier) is a hot young actor who has just opened a blockbuster thriller. But the title refers to the homeboys from Queens — including his unofficial manager Eric (Kevin Connolly) and chucklehead pal Turtle (Jerry Ferrara)--who live in his L.A. house, ride in his Rolls, smoke his pot and score his surplus women. ("Come on, make out with me," Turtle cajoles one. "I'll show you where Vince eats breakfast.") In return, they make him feel safe.

Safe from what? From whatever-happened-to-itis, a danger personified by his half brother Drama, once a rising star, now a washed-up actor chafing in Vince's shadow. (He's played by Kevin Dillon, the brother of Matt Dillon and evidently the best sport in Hollywood.) Dillon gives depth and poignancy to a one-joke character. Admittedly, it's often a great joke, as when Drama brags about having been on "Blue"--it turns out he means not NYPD but Pacific Blue, the mid-'90s show about buff bicycle cops. Grenier, likewise, gives Vince a sweet, dim Vinnie Barbarino appeal. Vince doesn't read scripts — even for the movie he just made — but he seems savvy enough to know the utility of his dumbness.

A blinged-out tour of the lifestyle of the rich and (for now) famous, Entourage is a funny but familiar diversion, lacking the darkness and edge that have distinguished HBO's best series. Unlike The Larry Sanders Show, it doesn't want to break new ground in critiquing show biz. It just wants you to have some fun with it on Sunday night. Then it'll show you where Vince eats breakfast. Promise.