Why the New 'Queer as Folk' Series Is Better Than the Original
When the Peacock streaming network announced a reimagined version of the seminal LGBTQ+ drama Queer as Folk, it faced an immediate wall of skepticism. The franchise carried a monumental legacy. Russell T Davies created the groundbreaking 1999 British original, and Showtime followed with a massive, culture-defining five-season American adaptation in 2000.
For many, those shows were sacred. However, viewing them through a modern lens reveals a glaring issue: they were almost exclusively focused on a very narrow slice of the community—predominantly white, cisgender, able-bodied gay men.
It seems you are looking for an argument or a persuasive piece on why a potential new series of Queer as Folk should be made, or perhaps why a previous attempt at a reboot didn't work and how a new one could do it better.
Assuming you want a persuasive take on how to do a Queer as Folk revival right, here is a piece arguing for a "better" new series:
To surpass the original—not just match it—a hypothetical 2025/2026 Queer as Folk revival would need to build on the foundation while addressing the 2000s show’s blind spots. Here are the five pillars.
The original Queer as Folk was famous for its explicit, "soft-core porn" style sex scenes. They were shocking and necessary to normalize gay intimacy on TV, but they often lacked emotional context. queer as folk new series better
The reboot approaches intimacy differently. It is still explicit (it is Queer as Folk, after all), but the sex is dialogue-heavy, awkward, funny, and deeply character-driven.
The 2022 reboot had trans and nonbinary characters, which was a strength. But many critics noted they were often used as "wise sages" or vessels for trauma. A better iteration would give trans characters the same license to be flawed that cis gay men had in the 2000s.
Imagine a trans male character who is a total slut—not because he’s proving his masculinity, but because he loves sex. Imagine a nonbinary character who is selfish, ambitious, and neglects their friends. The original Queer as Folk was great because it showed gay men as bastards and saints. A new series needs to extend that same humanity to the full spectrum of the LGBTQ+ community. Let trans characters be unlikable. That’s equality.
Before discussing how to make it better, we must diagnose what went wrong with the last attempt. The 2022 Queer as Folk was not a bad show; it was a gentle show. It featured a nightclub shooting in the first episode (a nod to Pulse), but afterward, it fell into a rhythm of therapy-speak, conflict resolution, and softness.
The original 2000s Queer as Folk was often mean, messy, and morally ambiguous. The character of Brian Kinney (Gale Harold) was a sexual predator by today’s standards—sleeping with a high schooler (Justin) and deliberately emotionally abusing his friends. But that ugliness was the point. The show argued that gay men, fresh off the AIDS crisis, had earned the right to be hedonistic, flawed, and unapologetic.
Modern queer media has trended toward the wholesome (Heartstopper, Red, White & Royal Blue). While those stories are vital, they represent a specific, sanitized corner of queer life. A new Queer as Folk must reclaim the as folk part of the title—meaning ordinary, vulgar, messy, and real. A better series would recognize that not every queer person wants to be an activist; some just want to dance, drink, and make terrible decisions. Why the New ' Queer as Folk' Series
Is the new Queer as Folk perfect? No. Its pacing is sometimes frantic, and balancing a massive ensemble leads to some thin plotlines. However, it is arguably a "better" show because it is a responsible show.
It takes the legacy of visibility established by the original and expands it to include the entirety of the LGBTQIA+ spectrum. It trades shock value for emotional resonance, and in doing so, it creates a portrait of queer life that feels less like a fantasy and more like a reflection of the beautiful, messy, and resilient reality.
reimagining of Queer as Folk is often cited as "better" or more relevant than its predecessors primarily due to its radical shift toward intersectional representation and its willingness to address modern LGBTQ+ trauma and resilience
. While the original UK (1999) and US (2000) versions were groundbreaking for their time, they were criticized in retrospect for being predominantly white, cisgender, and able-bodied. Key Ways the 2022 Series Evolves the Franchise Expanded Inclusivity
: The new series centers voices that were largely absent or sidelined in the original, including trans, non-binary, Black, and disabled characters. For instance, it features Ryan O'Connell (who has cerebral palsy) and Eric Graise
(a bilateral amputee) as characters with complex, active sexual lives, a rarity in mainstream media. A Modern Narrative of Survival New Orleans What a "Better" New Series Looks Like: The
, the series begins with a tragedy—a mass shooting at a queer nightclub called Babylon—heavily inspired by the real-world Pulse shooting Stephen Dunn worked with Pulse survivors to ensure the story focused on rebuilding and "queer joy" rather than just the violence itself. Addressing "Silos" within the Community
: Unlike the homogenous friend groups of the earlier shows, the 2022 version explores intra-community friction
, such as micro-aggressions, the policing of gender, and the "silos" created by race and disability. Critique of Past Tropes : While the reboot does repeat the controversial age-gap romance
trope from the original (between Brodie and the teenage Mingus), critics have noted that it feels more cringey and unnecessary in a modern context where shows like Heartstopper
demonstrate more age-appropriate queer coming-of-age stories. Critical Comparison: New vs. Old
'Queer As Folk' gets a stiletto-heeled reboot that takes ... - NPR
Here’s a review-style analysis of the statement “The new Queer as Folk series is better” — comparing the 2022 reboot to the original 1999 UK version and the 2000–2005 US version.