"Happy to Be Home With the Benkos" Brings Some Whimsy to the Typical Reno TV Format

Welcome to Home Watching, a column about the wild and wooly world of renovation television from a self-proclaimed expert in the genre.

Home reality television is by now so ubiquitous that the typical aesthetic pushed by the various personalities that pepper the space is its own thing. Whether it’s shiplap at the hands of Chip and Joanna Gaines or Nate Berkus and Jeremiah Brent’s idiosyncratic interpretation of Parisian chic, an interior that’s been through the HGTV renovation machine feels a little soulless—a home that is ostensibly for real people to live in, but that also looks like a rendering on a real estate website. The hosts and the shows themselves are well-oiled machines, following a formula that never quite changes: a passable home in decent shape undergoes an astonishing transformation that is mostly a reflection of the host’s personal taste. But we’re all only watching for the grand reveal, and when the result is nothing short of predictable, then where’s the fun?

My obsession with home renovation television has slowed in passing months, in part because life has gotten in the way, but also because the genre itself has felt stale. But a recent discovery on Magnolia Network reinvigorated my passion: Happy to Be Home With the Benkos has me hooked. Sure, the formula remains the same, but the results are unlike anything I’ve seen on HGTV or other networks of its ilk, and that alone gives me a tiny bit of hope for the future of the genre.

The Benkos are Gray and Mike, a classic designer-contractor/builder duo who live in Summerville, South Carolina. They renovate homes—mostly large, imposing, Victorian piles rife with historical details, millwork, and quirks—for their clients, along with the help of Gray’s dad Joe (who goes by the nickname Grumpy), also a contractor, who exists as the show’s voice of reason. While what I’ve just described sounds like any other HGTV series and therefore, uninteresting, I assure you it’s not. Yes, the Benkos hew to the same formula, but what sets them apart is the result. A home decorated and styled by the Benkos is a riot of color, pattern, and whimsy—a maximalist fantasy that is unlike the standard modern farmhouse kitchen and quiet, neutral living room typical of most HGTV renovations, and for that alone, refreshing.

Gray Benko is unafraid of color in a way that is inspiring; her interiors are characterized by bright, saturated hues that cover the floor, the walls, and occasionally, the ceiling. It’s not for everyone, though most of her clients on the show are open to her idiosyncratic vision; wallpaper on the walls and ceiling that also matches the drapes is a tough sell. But even though you might think that you’d hate it, and that living with a choice as permanent as a ceiling covered in floral wallpaper would be enough to induce a mental breakdown, the finished space is always, somehow, a harmonious marriage of the homeowners’ tastes and Grey’s signature aesthetic.

Pushing a homeowner out of their comfort zone is a central tenet of home renovation television, but the trouble is that many of the hosting designers have a specific, but limited point of view. This is likely a fault of the medium rather than the designers themselves. I suspect that networks like HGTV and Magnolia cast designers based on the quality of their work, but also how their particular aesthetic meets the expectations of what a renovated home looks like: clean, neutral, "modern," and a little bland. Of HGTV’s two powerhouse programs in this vein, Fixer Upper and Home Town, the results on the latter are often slightly more interesting, but still pretty tame. The finished renovations usually feel like a very nice Airbnb or a home staged to sell. The Benkos, however, actually listen to their clients, and Grey’s strength as a designer is that she somehow manages to convince people that her vision is in line with theirs.

Consider the Kopinsky family, as seen in the show’s third episode, who essentially give Grey carte blanche to do whatever she wants to their already-stunning 1890 home. If the bones are good, maybe you don’t need much else, but Grey’s design philosophy appears to be something akin to more is never enough, so here’s a little extra. The choices she makes in this space are thrilling because they’re so different from the majority of what exists in this particular landscape. Grey uses wallpaper in a way that’s both delightful and surprising, and her knowledge of color and how to use it without evoking a bad Lilly Pulitzer print is vast and impressive. In the Kopinskys’ living room, Grey paints the trim charcoal, covers the walls in a mocha-and-cream striped wallpaper, and somehow, it all works. An approach like this could read as fussy in a different kind of space, but because of the scale of the room and just a modicum of restraint on Grey’s end, the room feels livable, even when staged for a television reveal.