"This is a show in which, asked by a grandfather to define 'zaddy,' our bashful hosts limit themselves to the tautological 'it’s a sexier version of daddy,'" says Daniel Drake of the Netflix reality show. "It would astound Paul Lynde that the box of tissues used to market a television show starring five queers was intended to suggest only the jerking of tears. It would not surprise him to know that there are still pockets of American television where same-sex desire is kept safely offscreen, and he wouldn’t even need to be told that what’s really sustaining the whole operation is good old acquisitiveness. Because at bottom, for all its mantras about self-care and confidence, Queer Eye is essentially a well-concealed specimen of the game show, elevating people onto the television stage, flattering them, and leaving them with a bevy of prizes. In some cases this has had a lasting effect on the recipients, but care work is more than just learning how to love yourself; it’s an ongoing process, shameful feelings and ugly warts and all. In the end, the Fab Five sweep the contestants off their feet and make great emotional investments, only to leave after a week when things start to look serious. It’s a bit like dating a gay man."