“All Stars” Season 9 is an incredible display of talent—and one of the most boring shows on air. How did it fall so far that even Kamala Harris can’t save it?

Reality television has entered a new sickly sweet era. It’s the feeling you get watching the rebooted Real Housewives of New York City, with its cast members unwilling to throw jabs in an attempt to protect their image. The same goes for The Bachelor or Survivor; afraid to be the villain, most cast members chart a prolonged boring streak. In a tragic move, RuPaul’s Drag Race: All Stars is the newest victim of the kindness economy.

The ninth season of All Stars has some great talent: Roxxxy Andrews, Gottmik, even Nina West, when she’s not throwing off precariously laid sequin capes. But, with no eliminations in sight and an oddball “badge” system securing their status, the competition has stalled. In the immortal words of Lashauwn Beyond, it’s become “RuPaul’s Best Friend Race.” Great drag, dull television.

All Stars has been on the decline since Season 2. Never again will we see the soaring highs of Alyssa Edwards staring deviantly through the mirror, telling the audience to “trust the duchess” before verbally roundhousing Jaremi Carey (previously Phi Phi O’Hara). There were the flickerings of what would tear down the All Stars world, with RuPaul swapping the death-defying “Lipsync for your Life” for its tamer sister, “Lipsync for your Legacy.” All Stars became a game of social perils: Alaska Thunderfuck kept Roxxxy over Tatianna because of a years-long friendship and a rhinestone tank top.

The ensuing season’s twists became more outlandish and, in doing so, less remarkable. Season 3’s “jury of their queers” pummeled any notion of competitive edge, while Season 4’s double crowning felt forced. This was the snowflake generation of All Stars, the seasons of consolation prizes. The lip sync assassin twist brought some good tidbits of television, at least for bringing Laganja Estranja back to jump-split her way to infamy, but couldn’t quell the show’s spiraling stakes.

Kamala Harris

World of Wonder Productions, Inc./Paramount+

When the producers were finally able to shake down an all-winner season, some changes needed to take place. There would be no eliminations; a plotless badge count would be enough to chart the queens to victory. And there would also be no significant in-fighting, for the queens had already built brands for themselves. Sure, the season was a bit bland, but the level of talent there was enough. Fans would put up with anything to see Jinkx Monsoon and Raja on their screens one more time.

This lifeless, foppish reformatting has reared its head in Season 9. The queens have some methods of competition, with the ruby snippers offering an opportunity to block a competitor from receiving a badge the following week. But, with nonsensical badge rules abounding (Double the badges! Give a badge to a friend!), the snippers are more visible plot mechanism than actual fire starter. The petty back-and-forth between Roxxxy and Angeria felt forced, and dry at that.

The queens are also playing for charity, shoving the show’s stakes even further into the ground. It’s hard to knock a good cause; All Stars sending all this money off to important initiatives, especially at a time when queer and trans people are so at risk, should be applauded. That said, there’s something sweaty and delicious about the desperation of an original season of Drag Race. That’s certainly diminished in All Stars, where the queens have already earned a sizable income from the notoriety of their initial season. But, with the charity twist, any hunger for that grand prize is washed away.

All Stars 9 certainly has its high points. There’s Roxxxy whipping her hair with abandon, and Plastique Tiara dizzying herself trying to replicate it, in her lip sync to “Break Free.” There’s Gottmik and Plastique’s earth-shattering runways. Everything that comes out of Vanjie’s mouth turns to gold. But this, importantly, is an effort of talent. It’s good casting, not good television. The stars shine so much brighter than those behind the camera.

In some ways, All Stars seems to know that it’s producing uninteresting television. They’ve gone all-in on the trademarks of the franchise, including a late season Lalaparuza and talent show, just for kicks. They mash at the classics of the franchise, assuming some juice will flow to the audience. Even the contestants seem to get this: In an early Untucked, Jorgeous jokingly cries, “I just feel so stupid. Y’all are all so talented and I’m just so tired of being so sickening.” She’s mocking the form of a typical Drag Race breakdown; we won’t be seeing any of those here.

Vanessa Vanjie

World of Wonder Productions, Inc./Paramount+

And yet, even in the face of this cloyingly kind All Stars arc, there’s still drama. It’s not on the show, though. It’s on The Pit Stop, where Trixie Mattel and her guests dig into the contestants, often more than any of the judges did. Kandy Muse asking whether Shannel was “really one of the most famous drag queens in the world” was more climactic than anything gracing MTV’s airwaves. Other ounces of that drama have been off-shored to X, where Roxxxy has been dropping some first-class rants (proving you can’t read the doll).

Wiping away all that mess beyond the screen, one is left with the lifeless, empty shell of All Stars. Frankly, it’s a disservice to the show’s stellar cast. How can a season of Drag Race with Roxxxy Andrews, who once tore into Jinkx Monsoon so viciously, be this bland? In the face of all this good drag, producers have fallen into the pitfalls of unrelenting tenderness. In trying to keep everyone happy, they’ve left their audience mad.