Queer Eye (2018)

If anything, the self-improvement show manages to boil itself down to its purest form in Season 2 leaving us with more of what we loved from Queer Eye‘s debut outing: real, honest moments of genuine connection between people from starkly different walks of life who might otherwise never cross paths.

The nice thing about Queer Eye is that it pushes your feelgood buttons in the way you would largely expect – the transformative power of a nice haircut, some carefully chosen and well-fitted clothes, a living space that suits the person’s needs is clearly not to be underestimated – but it also takes the occasional swerve into the surprising.

Queer Eye’s formula—manipulative and effective, awkward and transcendent—remains the same as before, but the emphasis on the Fab Five as individuals does change the series’ value proposition somewhat. ... With the intensifying spotlight, though, the guys—and all they represent—have thankfully come to seem more three-dimensional.

Anyone who fell in love with this charming Queer Eye crew will be happy to know that they remain very much in character during season two. ... Because there’s such an established formula to Queer Eye, binge-watching isn’t necessarily the best way to enjoy it. Spreading out the episodes will cut down on one’s awareness of the repetitiveness in its structure, as well as the repetitiveness in some of the advice being offered.

Come for the serial reveals, stay for the life lessons. (Don't judge a book by its cover. Pick up your room.) Or come for the lessons and stay for the reveals. It works either way.

The world now seems less binary, and the show has grown more limber and less campy.

The Queer Eye reboot finds perhaps even more pathos than the original one. The transformation in the premiere episode is a heartwarming hoot. But with a cast of attention-seeking experts who too often steal focus from the proverbial mission at hand, it can be as exhausting and, at times, even as cringe-inducing as some have feared.