“See, liberals can be fun,” Jonathan Van Ness cheekily quips as the Fab Five wash a cowboy’s hair for what seems like the first time in a very long time in a new episode of Netflix’s Emmy-winning LGBTQ hit, Queer Eye. It’s a moment reminiscent to Bravo’s original Queer Eye For The Straight Guy, a show in which the main conceit was fabulous queer men making over a slovenly straight man; the gays help the straight become less encumbered by toxic masculinity, and the straight person, awash with gratitude, decides not to be a homophobe anymore. It was a revolutionary show for 2003, but like most things, within its time capsule, it had its problems. In hindsight, the show mildly perpetuated stereotypes, and it could be criticized as fetishizing, othering and mocking — but that doesn’t negate the show as a pioneer of queer representation. And thankfully, the Fab Five of Antoni, Jonathan, Tan, Karamo and Bobby, who picked up the torch in 2018 for Netflix’s rebrand, have brought the show up to speed. Now, instead of the early 2000s’ messaging of “we can all get along,” the sentiment feels more like “we can all accept each other for who we are” — a subtle but poignant difference. In 2022, it is a message that is as heartwarming as it is powerful, making the show far more than makeover reality TV.
What the new Queer Eye also changes dramatically is the type of people that they help — this iteration broadens the scope to include literally anyone, even a group of economically challenged teens trying to throw a prom in the pandemic. It seems like an obvious update, but it truly is indicative of their message of acceptance. It proves that they’re not asking anyone to justify or explain who they are, or why they deserve help. That’s the beauty of the new Queer Eye, especially this new season (which all takes place in Texas), in which there are many moments where other shows would have probably stooped to awkward identity conversation — asking a teen if he’s gay, or a high school teacher if they are non-binary, or making a young transgender woman painstakingly discuss her transition. Instead, the Fab Five simply allow their new friends to open up about whatever feels comfortable, but never directly asking them to define themselves by society’s standards. They ask them what they want, not who they are — because one doesn’t need to justify the other.
