The past five months have seen Kelsey and Camille Grammer engaging in a particularly juicy cross-pollinating, media hijinks.

Grammer recently wound up a Tony-nominated turn in Broadway’s “La Cage Aux Folles.” Swathed in sequins and silk, the “Frasier” star crooned mid-Atlantic through this tale of French Family Values.

Mrs. Grammer, meanwhile, was shooting the deliciously catty “Real Housewives of Beverly Hills,” the most fabulous iteration of Bravo’s endlessly fascinating “Real Housewives” empire. By turns “delusional” and “vindictive” (to quote her many “fans”), Camille gave this show its Botoxed, diamond-bedazzled heart.

Camille’s relationship to her star husband was always at the center of “Housewives:” “It’s time for me to break out of my husband’s shadow and shiiiine” went her weekly opener. But as revelations about the Grammers’ dying marriage elbowed their way into the “storyline,” this reality show took on a whole new dimension.

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