Drag Race is bad TV and I still watch it

While I would argue that Drag Race is popular in the mainstream, the newer seasons being pumped out are fodder for reality TV addicts. Despite the show's increased vapidity, I am still an avid viewer.

RuPaul's Drag Race has been a television favorite of gay men everywhere since 2009. Over the seasons and even with its explosion in popularity, the show has undeniably become more repetitive, less heartfelt, and likely overproduced. Yet, despite its waning authenticity and scripted comedy, I remain a die-hard fan.

Honestly, my love of Drag Race baffles a lot of people. My parents, when I would watch in our living room, would cringe at the cheesy jokes and flamboyant tongue pops. Some of my queer friends never got into it and now find the show intimidating because it’s self-referential to a fault. And many lesbians find the show to be sexist, exclusionary, and not applicable to our community.

So, let me explain myself. First, I'll dive into the universe of Drag Race, then share why I'm such a fan. After that, I’ll illuminate the things that I feel need changing, because loving something means wanting it to slay even harder. If anyone from Ms. RuPaul’s team happens to stumble upon this random lesbian’s Substack, I’ve got some notes for y’all!

a brief history/explanation of Drag Race, by Hayley

As a show initially meant to be a satire of reality TV, Drag Race started as a humble parody of Project Runway and America’s Next Top Model. The first season featured nine drag queens battling it out in mini-challenges and maxi-challenges, all through grainy filters. Fast forward to now, and Drag Race has wrapped up its 16th season and 9th All Stars season. There are international franchises in about a dozen countries, and drag queens from the show are now pop culture icons beyond the sphere of gay men.

The queens who are cast usually range from ages 21-40 and are typically categorized by their niche: comedy queens, pageant queens, runway queens, banjee queens, musical theater queens, dancing queens, campy queens, and quirky queens. While most drag queens have talents that span multiple categories, the show encourages creating a clear brand, so these labels tend to stick.

The challenges each season follow a similar model, with a few exceptions. Regular challenges include: a ball, where one look is made in the Werk Room; a girl group challenge, where queens write and perform their own verses; a scripted comedy challenge parodying a popular TV show or movie; a makeover challenge, where non-drag queens are transformed to show “family resemblance”; and the iconic Snatch Game, where queens do a comedic impression of a celebrity to make RuPaul laugh. This isn’t an exhaustive list, but you can bet on seeing these staples if you start a random season.

Queens participate in these challenges and are eliminated one by one. Typically, the bottom two queens lip sync for their lives in a head-to-head duel. RuPaul, presiding over the judging panel like a monarch, chooses one queen to stay and another to “sashay away.” (In All Stars seasons, the elimination rules keep changing to keep viewers on their toes.)

After the show, the drag queens usually achieve micro or even macro celebrity status, gaining thousands of followers and booking international tours. It’s a transformation from living off meager tips to being booked months in advance. Some start makeup brands, go on other reality shows, participate in renowned theater productions, or record comedy specials. Being on Drag Race is undoubtedly a life-changing event for drag performers.

why I watch this show

I started getting really into Drag Race when I was 20 and studying abroad in Chile. I will be honest that I have a soft spot for Drag Race as an unapologetically queer show that I appreciated as I unpacked my own queerness. It may seem unlikely that a TV show centering gay men would comfort a lesbian figuring herself out, but it showcased queer joy in a way I had not experienced before.

The quick and simple reason I watch the show, is because it makes me happy. I get to see and hear from members of my marginalized community, but I also get to see them sing, dance, make jokes, and have fun. This is the queer joy I mention earlier! The show usually has some low stakes drama that is typically entertaining and unserious. The drama is fun to watch, because it’s drag queens being divas. It’s low stakes lampooning, and usually it creates some of the most memorable lines in the series.

There are certain jokes in the queer community about pieces of media being central to our identities. For lesbians, our pop culture is centered on The L Word and But I’m a Cheerleader. Many act like watching these shows/movies are prerequisites to partake in our culture. And for gay men, that’s Drag Race. But, besides being a piece of zeitgeist in current queer culture, the show is referential to a broader collection of gay media that is otherwise hard to access. I found out about the documentary, Paris is Burning, from Drag Race, a film that is a queer/trans history prerequisite. This film is superb — it captures 1980s ball culture in New York City, showing the artistry and lifestyle of Black and brown queer and trans people in the ball scene. It makes me cry to remember that queer enclaves have persisted, even during the roughest of times. I also learned about the movie Death Becomes Her and the works of John Waters through Drag Race, which are queer camp classics. By referencing niche media that is rather unknown to an audience beyond (let’s face it, older) gay men, my own queer cultural encyclopedia is broadened.

Despite the repetitive challenges and corny jokes each episode brings, there are moments of pure humor, joy, and talent in each season. For example, even though each season features a design challenge, I had never seen a garment created on the show like Nymphia Wind’s ball look in Season 16.

Further, no matter how many seasons showcase tepid Snatch Games full of overly rehearsed lines, I took immense pleasure in watching Jinkx Monsoon give a masterclass on the challenge during her All Stars 7 run. She delivered a flawless, hilarious impression of Natasha Lyonne and Judy Garland. Watching talented drag queens deliver in their element feels like being on the precipice of cool gay culture.

A major reason I continue to watch is because of the lip syncs. Lip syncing is the bread and butter for most American drag artists, and that showdown to avoid elimination has birthed some of the most iconic moments of the show. Since becoming a fan off the show, I have become a fan of drag in general, and have had the pleasure of seeing many queens perform this artform live. But, I can’t go to drag shows every day. Drag Race makes lip syncs accessible to me 24/7 — a big deal. If you haven’t had the joy of sitting with friends (or alone!) and watching dozens of skillfully done lip syncs from Drag Race, you are missing out.

Drag Race is very lighthearted, but also includes conversations about topics related to the LGBTQ+ community that other shows balk at. I have seen earnest conversations about being trans or nonbinary, having an eating disorder, having HIV, the ongoing violence against queer people in the US and other countries, religion, and racism. While these conversations are fit neatly into short segments usually during the “getting ready” portion of the show, they are still meaningful to me. My complaint about addressing serious topics on Drag Race, however, is that each story has a positive upturn at the end, a message of hope. This serves as a reminder that you are not watching a vulnerable conversation between queer people, but rather, a highly produced reality show with a narrow framework for what makes a good storyline. I wish that Drag Race had more concern for queer stories, without the need to push saccharine storylines with pleasant resolutions.

calling Ms. RuPaul, please make these changes!

RuPaul’s Drag Race clearly has its flaws. As a dedicated fan who wants to see this program continue into the future, I’ve got to say that Drag Race needs some serious tweaks in structure and substance. Otherwise, it risks sashaying away into pop culture obscurity, like America’s Next Top Model or Project Runway in their later seasons.

More varieties of drag

Clearly, I am not a drag expert. But I’ve been to enough drag shows to know that RuPaul’s Drag Race doesn’t showcase the wide array of drag performers out there. It seems like female impersonation is the aspect of drag RuPaul has chosen to center the show on, which is to the detriment of the full spectrum of drag performers. This is one of the major areas in which lesbians have gripes, as we have been entertained by drag kings and “bio” queens for years. Nonbinary drag and drag things are valid too. I’ve seen drag goblins, vampires, wizards, performers attempting to look entirely androgynous, and those dressing up as campy versions of inanimate objects or animals. There should be no benchmark that weeds out the “too weird” or out-there performers.

Quality over quantity

It feels like there’s a factory in Burbank cranking out seasons of Drag Race on a conveyor belt. Honestly, being a Drag Race viewer is exhausting because there is a constant churn of new episodes. Especially with international franchises popping up left and right, US Drag Race should cool it on the new seasons. The pace of new US seasons means I haven’t had a chance to dive into many of the international seasons — and I think watching Drag Race España or Mexico would be an awesome way to practice my Spanish. Beyond this, the quality deterioration of the show is likely due to this relentless churn. As a fan, I would prefer better writing and production quality over a new season every nine months.

Hire better comedy writers

I struggle every season to get through the scripted comedy content. The jokes in these episodes are so bad that the best contestant usually does a passable job and is lauded for “comedic chops.” I don’t remember the last time I laughed out loud during a scripted comedy challenge. There’s speculation online that random interns write them, and I believe it. Or honestly, it could be AI. When queens write their own comedy, they are way funnier, which leads me to believe that this could be fixed if the scripts for comedy challenges were actually funny.

More flexibility in the show’s structure / less overproducing

The show is currently over-manufactured, with scripted storylines and “edits” that predetermine how the audience feels about given contestants. For example, there’s the “villain” edit, where a drag queen is portrayed as a bully or troublemaker. Usually, this storyline includes a vulnerable conversation about why this person is so mean, ending with a hug for their trauma and insecurity. Additionally, it’s easy to identify the production favorites from the get-go. Certain drag queens get more attention and air time, while others are clearly “filler queens.” Most of us know by now that reality TV portrays a very staged version of “reality,” but the production on Drag Race makes each season feel repetitive at some point. Sixteen seasons in, it’s time for a shake-up in format or structure and less reliance on tired reality TV tropes.

More current judges

Let’s be straight up: RuPaul, Michelle Visage, Ross Matthews, and Carson Kressley are just too old to get a lot of current pop culture references. Further, only RuPaul is a drag queen, which makes the critiques from the others feel like unqualified advice. There are so many success stories from the show, so bring back some of the queens who have made a name for themselves to give critiques.

Many of the guest judges look bored or apathetic. There are some icons who have made for memorable TV, but this seems to be the exception rather than the rule. Judges like T.S. Madison and Nicole Byer are some of my current faves in the Drag Race rotation — I hope the show continues to bring them back.

Generally, keep evolving

The show has been critiqued for a lack of transgender inclusion in the past, and despite some missteps (who can forget RuPaul posting a trains flag instead of a trans flag?), it has improved in casting transgender contestants. The tagline of the show has evolved from “gentlemen, start your engines, and may the best woman win!” to “start your engines, and may the best drag queen win!” Feedback from fans is working, albeit slowly.

why do I care so much about this dumb little show?

As a show that trailblazed queer representation on TV, Drag Race holds the mantle as an iconic part of queer culture. I could obviously give examples of queer and trans discrimination in the US — like the drag bans that have taken over due to conservative fear-mongering, or the continued attacks on gender affirming care for trans people. Seeing gay and trans artists on TV is more essential than ever, especially as straight people become increasingly interested in the show.

Singular narratives of the gay or transgender experience are part of what foments support for these policies. So, exposing the masses to the plurality in the queer community — the various artforms, stories, and identities drag artists contain — could only help others gain a better understanding of LGBTQ+ people. Platforming these artists gives a chance for drag performers from meager backgrounds to achieve mainstream fame, and push queer joy into the world. The world needs to see queer people thriving and showing their talents, and if RuPaul’s Drag Race wants to continue to be the platform to do this, they need to step it up.

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