Usually when we’re watching Queer Eye it’s to be inspired by a lovely transformation and these five wonderful homosexuals helping another man to challenge his ideas not only about style and grooming, but also about humanity. It’s unlike most other reality-television programs where we’re tuning in to judge the train wrecks that are the guidos on Jersey Shore or laugh at the howler monkeys that are the various and sundry Real Housewives. Finally, on this episode, we got both.
Just look at Arian (Ari for short) the subject of this episode. He’s absolutely pathological. He was a stylish slender guy who supposedly graduated from college but didn’t pass one key class and the University of Georgia took back his diploma until he could finish it. Rather than coming clean about this, he lies to his traditional Iranian family because they would have been too disappointed he didn’t finish his education. There is also a lack of clarity around whether or not he currently has a job, whether or not he was fired from or left his last job, and just what he did to not pass that class at school. When you break it down, Ari is a liar.
He even lies about little things. He tells Antoni he doesn’t know how to make anything or know his way around a kitchen, but when he’s slicing potatoes to make a dish for his housewarming party, he’s totally pulling out knife tricks like he’s on an episode of Iron Chef. Is he so worried about looking bad on national TV (or whatever the hell we call Netflix these days) that he told them he sucks so that no one will expect him to actually make some food?
Watching Ari is like watching Sonja Tremont Morgan of the Beautique Morgans or Kenya Moore, two people whose psychology is so complex and fascinating that you could watch them for hours trying to ascertain how each little tic fits into a complicated whole. Like, what is up with Ari’s gross sunflower-seed habit and his chain-smoking? Or how about how he blames all of his problems on other people and how they’ve done him wrong? I mean, give this guy his own show or at least get him on a season of Big Brother so we can spend a few months watching him try to lie his way to $500,000.
Using my skills as the founder and president of the Real Housewives Institute, it seems to be that Ari is so deeply insecure with his own failures that he lies about them to cover them up. I didn’t graduate college because I failed Intro to Psychology and even I figured that one out. I even understand how he tries to invert his failure by blaming them on the school or his boss at these jobs he “keeps getting fired” from, as his roommate describes it.
But where does his lack of motivation to do the work for these things come from? I can understand that he’s depressed because he didn’t graduate, got fat, and can’t hold down a job, but the root of that seems to be his not going to class and (most likely) not showing up to work on time? What are we not hearing? What are the lies covering up? I’m fascinated. Can we get a Dateline NBC investigation into Ari’s personal life, please?
His home life is pretty gnarly. What the hell was up with all of those sunflower seeds in the Frisbee? It looked like so many dead slugs ground up into some sort of paste for a ritual sacrifice. No, actually it looked like those protein bars made out of bugs that the plebs eat in Snowpiercer. The Fab Five come in and they are riding this guy hard. Usually they’re very loving and do some light jesting with the slob that they’re trying to transform, but they straight-up scold this mess for being lazy, never leaving the house, and lying to all of their pretty faces. I feel like they all actually hate him and that makes me find this episode totally amazing.
Which other guy have they made work out and clean up his patio? They give even the slobbiest slob a free pass, but they make Ari work up a sweat and earn every single one of the busy pattered tops that Tan picks out for him. Jonathan, who normally likes to collaborate on a dude’s look with him, was just like, “Your beard is going, tough shit.” It was a smart decision, though. He looked so much younger and rakishly handsome with a fresh cut and shave, he should at least be able to get himself laid if he can drag himself away from Fortnite long enough to meet a human woman.
Once he’s finished all of his cleaning and push-ups at the gym, we get back to Ari’s house to discover that Bobby has given Ari the gayest living room I have ever seen — and I have been to the lounge area of Der Boiler, an all-male sauna in Berlin where you can eat a bratwurst while eating a bratwurst, if you know what I’m saying.
Just look at that room! There is a white sectional. The only other place you will find white sectionals are in D.C. gay bars and Cher’s dressing room. A bunch of post-graduates do not need a white sectional where they can get their manspreading juice and Chipotle crumbs all over it. What about those glowing-cube coffee tables, though? They are the worst. Can you imagine trying to watch TV while one of those is blinding you from below? Think about the awful lighting for on-the-couch selfies. Low lighting is no one’s friend. Those coffee tables need to be destroyed. Burn them with fire and send them back from the abyss from which they came.
The crowd at Ari’s party was really odd and diverse, with an old man in a rainbow tie rubbing elbows with some hot dude who was totally checking out Ari’s ass, as Jonathan points out to us. The real standout at the party, though, was Ari’s mother. He pulled her into his room and told her he didn’t graduate and she says, “I’m sorry to hear that,” but it sounded like, “I want a sinkhole to open up in the ground and for you to disappear into it.” She was pissed, but she told him that she loved him and hopes that he’ll make it right. He told her that he’s willing to do all of the work, but I’ll only believe that if the work is spending an entire day playing Halo in his gym shorts.
I’m picking on him for playing all of these video games, but all I do is watch and analyze reality-television programs. Maybe I need to examine myself … or have myself examined.