Netflix rebooted Queer Eye for the Straight Guy last year, introducing viewers to a brand new Fab Five that were easy to instantly fall in love with. The contestants getting made over on the new, shorter-titled version of Queer Eye were slightly less likable at first, but by the end of each episode, their transformations left us weeping into our homemade guacamole.
Bobby, Tan, Jonathan, Antoni and Karamo all return for the second season of the surprise hit series, seeking out new human canvases, and while many of the storylines are as heart-warming and tear-jerking as ever, it's hard not to feel like the Fab Five are leaning a little too hard into their onscreen personas.
Hamming it up is easy to excuse, though, in the grand arc of the show. Sure, Antoni's still wearing Strokes and National tees, Karamo is rocking bomber jackets as he stares into people's souls, and Jonathan remains a fountain of fabulously ridiculous catchphrases — but the overall message of the show is one of bridging divides in an evermore divided Southern U.S., and it's hard to shit on that.
Season 2 broadens the scope of makeover subjects beyond gruff old men (though there are still a few of those), targeting everyone from a devout Christian lady to a recently post-op trans man to a man who lists Frasier Crane as his fashion icon. It's a step towards making the show even more inclusive and diverse than it already was, and a reminder of how easy it can be to find common ground between people (even when we don't expect it).
Despite some cringe-worthy made-for-TV moments (tip: never propose to your girlfriend on a stage in front of hundreds of people), there's too much heart to not get sucked in to the sappy success stories that come out of every episode.
(Netflix)Bobby, Tan, Jonathan, Antoni and Karamo all return for the second season of the surprise hit series, seeking out new human canvases, and while many of the storylines are as heart-warming and tear-jerking as ever, it's hard not to feel like the Fab Five are leaning a little too hard into their onscreen personas.
Hamming it up is easy to excuse, though, in the grand arc of the show. Sure, Antoni's still wearing Strokes and National tees, Karamo is rocking bomber jackets as he stares into people's souls, and Jonathan remains a fountain of fabulously ridiculous catchphrases — but the overall message of the show is one of bridging divides in an evermore divided Southern U.S., and it's hard to shit on that.
Season 2 broadens the scope of makeover subjects beyond gruff old men (though there are still a few of those), targeting everyone from a devout Christian lady to a recently post-op trans man to a man who lists Frasier Crane as his fashion icon. It's a step towards making the show even more inclusive and diverse than it already was, and a reminder of how easy it can be to find common ground between people (even when we don't expect it).
Despite some cringe-worthy made-for-TV moments (tip: never propose to your girlfriend on a stage in front of hundreds of people), there's too much heart to not get sucked in to the sappy success stories that come out of every episode.