Review: 'Queer Eye' Shows Signs of Blurry Vision in Season 8

Just as in previous years, "Queer Eye" has heart in its eighth season but, for the first time in its rebooted lifetime, it lacks a bit of soul.

Tan France, Jonathan van Ness, Antoni Porowski, Karamo Brown, and Bobby Berk are back as the Fab Five who insert their respective skills on everyday people struggling with the concept of "me" time. Like a team of lifestyle mechanics, the group ambush their marks and begin working on their style, home decor, beauty, cooking and mental health. It's been a great formula that has worked over the years, but this season the premise is wearing thin.

That's not to say the subjects are to blame. They are as interesting and deserving of every makeover.

A few that stand out in this eight-episode season are a celebrated jazz musician who is well-respected among the community and happy just busking on the streets of New Orleans for coins. But doing the thing she loves so much has made her neglect her family's sweet shop that was once a local Treme landmark.

And then there's a deaf athletic director who mentors deaf athletes and is so busy encouraging his team that he neglects every other aspect of his life. These are slice-of-life stories that should shine under the glow of their talented hosts.

But this season seems to have acquired some patina. Whereas the previous seasons were emotionally polished and tried to focus on how each of our lifestyle flippers interacted with their subjects, in season 8 those moments are curiously uneven. Namely Antoni and Jonathan are front-and-center, with Tan getting honorable mention. "Culture Expert" Karamo is full of platitudes while – with exception to the first episode – Bobby is rarely seen. If he is, it's an end-of-show room reveal or a throwaway b-roll conversation or confessional. His absence may be because this is his last season on the show.

The shift of focus makes sense because neither Karamo nor Bobby have interesting personalities. That isn't as harsh as it sounds when you consider Jonathan's light shines so brightly, calling people (some who may have never heard it before), "gorgeous" and "amazing-ah" and truly meaning it.

Jonathan is such a force that they do more to raise the confidence of a Kiss-loving straight rocker by being harmlessly flirtatious and huggy, than their male-presenting co-hosts who keep their distance. Jonathan really is the heart and spirit of the series, and the camera knows it.

The camera also likes Antoni, the show's "food guy" and sex symbol. Shots of him shirtless or in the shower are blatant thirst-traps but you'll get no complaints from me. His contribution this season is more of the same; he teaches his charges how to create simple but delicious meals to build confidence in the kitchen. One of the great things about Antoni is he appears as vulnerable as those he mentors and often uses personal stories to connect with them. We learn just as much about his life as we do about the show's subjects. In this season he becomes an assistant to a Louisiana Vietnamese chef to create a vegetarian dish for her upcoming dinner party. During one conversation he admits being estranged from his mother and your heart breaks a little.

Tan does what he's done every season: update someone's tired wardrobe. But it's not a lesson in how to use color analysis to compliment your skin tone or why some designs work better on certain body types; it feels like a shopping spree with an opinionated best friend.

There's been a longtime joke about Karamo and what exactly he does on the show. With a social work and psychotherapy background you'd think it would be obvious. But part of the problem, even this season, is that he doesn't feel empathetic. That's not to say that he's not; he just doesn't come across that way. He might be the most inspirational person in the group but lacks the warmth that both Jonathan and Antoni seem to have.

Cozy makeover reality show concepts arguably started with the original "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy," and although HBO's "We're Here" is a loose interpretation of that formula, it consistently pulls its audience in to feel for the people they are showcasing. Also, the camaraderie of its hosts feels as touching as the ones they build with their projects.

For the most part "Queer Eye" has done the same thing throughout the years, but season 8 is showing signs that the series is beginning to spoil. Its hosts, like bad milk, feel separated from the fat.

In the end "Queer Eye" season 8 is an entertaining and comfy entry. But for a show that originated the "cry-on-your-couch" emotional moment watching a deserving person's life literally change, it loses some impact when producers choose college boys living in a disorderedly frat house with dirty toilets as their "heroes" instead of the many valiant people living in Louisiana whose lives might really be in the crapper.

"Queer Eye" has already been greenlit for a ninth season.

"Queer Eye" Season 8 premieres on Netflix January 24.