Queer Eye is less about changing these people and more about making them realize what they had all along. It's such a powerful, positive message that you really don't see anywhere else on TV right now.

It had me deep in its beautifully manicured clutches. It's funny and absorbing but, crucially, different from the original series.

This is the best feel good show you will see in your life.

The 2018 Queer Eye adds a new mission, one that escalates the series' aims above and beyond even the total-package Cinderella story the show was to begin with.

Fun makeover reboot talks acceptance, being your best self.

The reboot is fine company in several contexts, for instance, when it is lending ambient zhuzh to your home while you're picking up around the place. Half-watching any of its eight episodes, the viewer feels its aspirational anima infuse the room.

The result is a warm, hopeful, infectiously entertaining show. Bring on series two.

Queer Eye's genuine emotion will cut right to the heart. Even with the campiness and gimmick that brought everyone together, Queer Eye was still grounded in its central message of acceptance and life makeover.

But this is a much more self-aware and critically thinking Queer Eye, and it feels primed for our era: it is about forging diverse connections when many in power are seeking to deepen divisions. It is warm-hearted and kind in a time that is not.

The latest Queer Eye does take extraordinary steps that the previous version did not, such as an episode in which the Fab Five guide a gay black man into coming out to his parent, one story we don't see enough of on television.

The new series is full of fraught and odd moments facilitated by its intense orchestration and outdated format. But the work done to transcend those trappings here is immense, and [it] delivers an answer to that referendum that none of us were expecting.

What makes Queer Eye so appealing and so frustrating are its attempts to stuff the wide world of masculinity into an hour-long makeover show. I

Not all of us can do it as fabulously as these guys, but they can inspire us to try.

Rooted at the intersection of self-improvement TV and gay self-loathing, Queer Eye has always produced a traffic jam of complicated questions. The reboot, while successfully worthwhile, does little to answer any.

The new Fab Five prove dependably charming and charismatic, and rule over the show's familiar bailiwicks -- though they do so, it must be said, with a bit more wet-eyed sincerity than the O.G. crew.