‘Queer Eye is full of hope - that’s rare’
It’s the makeover show that’s become a phenomenon. Elizabeth Day meets its breakout star Jonathan Van Ness to find out more
Jonathan Van Ness never expected to be an icon. One day, he was quietly minding his own business, styling hair in salons in Los Angeles and New York; the next he could barely walk down the street without being mobbed by fans wanting selfies and quoting his catchphrases back at him.
The reason for this transformation in fortune is Queer Eye, a Netflix show in which five gay lifestyle experts travel to America’s pro-trump Deep South to make over the lives of men stuck in various ruts. It has crossed over from a cult binge-watch to become the unexpected hit of 2018, on both sides of the Atlantic.
The success of the series, a reboot of the early Noughties’ Queer Eye for
the Straight Guy, has prompted earnest opinion pieces in the New Statesman and much discussion on the BBC about its impact. It has racked up a 100 per cent rating on Rotten Tomatoes and attracted a slew of high-profile fans, including comedian Sarah Millican and Drew Barrymore.
Why? Well, it’s far more than just a makeover show. Sure, the “Fab Five” each have their areas of expertise, advising on everything from how to wear pastels to making a mean guacamole. Van Ness, a 31-year-old hairstylist from Quincy, Illinois, is the grooming expert and will often be found extolling the benefits of beard moisturiser to overweight middleaged men with psoriasis who barely bother to shower in the mornings.
But the men in need of makeovers are also, as Van Ness puts it, “struggs to func” (short for “struggling to function”) – in need of all kinds of help, but lacking the emotional wherewithal to ask for it.
Neal, an app developer, had been depressed for years; Remy was struggling to cope with the death of his father; Tom had given up on love and life after a third divorce. By setting them on the path of self-acceptance, inside and out, Queer Eye has tapped into deeper questions about modern masculinity and often left viewers, male and female, in tears.
Van Ness proselytises the notion of body positivity – which he says is not about making everyone look the same, but making them feel the best they can about who they truly are.
“Men totally struggle with taking care of how they look,” he tells me over the phone from Los Angeles. “They think it’s unnecessary or feminine or ‘extra’ and it isn’t.”
On screen, he is a fizzing bundle of joy: snapping his fingers, flipping his hair, seeking the good in everyone – and addressing them as “Queen”. He is the only person I’ve interviewed who introduces himself by bellowing “I love you!” down the line.
He believes a lot of the show’s appeal comes down to the fact that it’s feel-good television showing people being nice to each other. In that respect, it’s a bit like The Great British Bake Off, but with more call for floralprint silk bomber jackets. “I think it’s very seldom we ever talk about anything in the political or the lifestyle spectrum that leaves us with a taste in the mouth that is hopeful,” Van Ness says. “Queer Eye does that.”
He’s always itching to get his hands on people’s grooming regimes, so what would he do with, say, our Prime Minister, Theresa May?
“I wouldn’t mind taking some of that volume out of her hair. I’d shine it up, knock it down and make it a little sleeker, honey!”
He’s been reading about Brexit for a weekly podcast he hosts (Getting Curious with Jonathan Van Ness), and says he’s obsessed with British politics: “You know, the thing that’s amazing about [May] is that everyone was saying she was a dead woman walking and she’s still kind of doing it! She’s still there! That’s kind of cute.”
Van Ness reserves his real enthusiasm for Nicola Sturgeon, however: “She’s fierce. Love her. I love that after Brexit, she was like ‘Um, we voted Remain’ and she had this face, like, ‘This is me not caring. See this face I’m making? I’m not caring. I’m running Scotland over here.’” He whoops: “I’m, like, ‘Work, honey!’”
One of the most talked-about scenes in the series was when the Fab Five made over a cop, leading to a heartfelt discussion about race and policing in America between Karamo, the African-american culture expert, and Corey, the white policeman. From a position of mutual mistrust, the two listened to each other and respectfully reconciled their differing viewpoints.
“It was a long-ass 30-minute conversation,” Van Ness says. “We didn’t know how it would come across but they did such a beautiful job.”
The relationships don’t stop when filming ends. Van Ness keeps in touch with a couple of the men he helped – including Neal and Remy.
“I didn’t realise just how much Neal had struggled with depression. I really feel the seeds planted that week have changed his overall trajectory.” Pause. “He definitely looks cuter! But inside, too, he is more aware of his light and his worth.”
Van Ness could relate to the issues faced by many of the men, thanks to his own upbringing. Growing up in America’s mid-west, the youngest of
four, he was one of the few openly gay students at his local high school and became its first male cheerleader.
He was “mercilessly bullied” and so desperate to leave that he had a chart on his wall where he crossed off every day until graduation. “I did not have a pleasurable first 17 years,” he says. “I was gay and wore purple tights, purple sweatshirts and Doc Marten boots. I could not have ‘not fitted in’ more if I’d tried.”
Van Ness moved to California in 2009 and found a job in a salon, earning a roster of celebrity clients including the comedian Margaret Cho. When Netflix announced the reboot of Queer Eye, he was one of thousands to apply.
“It was like cheer[leader] tryouts from hell,” he says. “You never knew when you were going to get cut. Three brutal days, honey.”
Van Ness met the other team members for the first time while filming and they are now best friends in real life: “Antoni [food expert] knows that when I’m in New York on Wednesdays, we check with each other before we make plans because that’s our palling around day. If anyone touched Bobby’s hair with a highlighter comb that wasn’t mine…” he lets the thought drift, appalled.
“I bought a bunch of stuff from Zara the other day and messaged Tan [clothing expert, and the only Brit] like, 1,500 times… I’m definitely the baby of the group, both in terms of years and emotional maturity. They know all my secrets.”
Happily for its growing legion of fans, Queer Eye will return for a second series. What can we expect? “You can look forward to a more diverse crew of heroes.”
Hang on, does that mean they might be making over women?
“Like I said,” and Van Ness repeats himself with great deliberation, enunciating each word. I can hear his smile all the way across the Atlantic. Theresa May better watch out.
Queen Eye is a Netflix Original series and is available now