Queer As Folk New — Series Better

Pittsburgh (in the original US version) was a generic city stand-in that often felt a bit too sterile. The reboot moves the action to New Orleans, and the city becomes a character in itself.

The setting provides a unique texture: it is sweaty, Southern, Gothic, and spiritual. This moves the show away from the polished, "clean" aesthetic of modern sitcoms like Modern Family or The L Word: Generation Q. The New Orleans setting allows for storylines involving voodoo, Mardi Gras culture, and a different kind of queer history—one that feels grittier and more organic than the nightclub scenes of the early 2000s. queer as folk new series better

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. Pittsburgh (in the original US version) was a

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. This moves the show away from the polished,

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.

One of the biggest jokes about the original Queer as Folk is that Brian, an advertising executive, can afford a massive industrial loft in downtown Pittsburgh. In 2024, that’s laughable. A new series better than the original would ground itself in the economic collapse of queer urban spaces.

Gentrification, dating apps, and the housing crisis have decimated traditional gayborhoods. A modern Brian would be a 35-year-old who still has roommates. The nightclub would be struggling to pay rent. The characters would be doing gig economy work, not just chilling at Babylon every night. This grit would re-introduce the struggle that defined early queer life. When a character loses their apartment because of a landlord converting the building into condos, that’s a story about modern queer precarity that the original never had to tell.