Heated Rivalry raises the bar for queer sex on TV

HBO Max's sensation is a love story built from the bed up.

Heated Rivalry raises the bar for queer sex on TV

The internet has had absolutely zero chill about Crave and HBO Max’s Heated Rivalry. The tweets have been on a level of horny not seen since the first season of Bridgerton. The watch parties with friends to see their reactions to the sex scenes call to mind Game Of Thrones‘ run. Even the memes have been top-notch in that very special way that makes social media tolerable for a fleeting moment.

In less than two weeks, “the gay hockey show,” as so many have generalized it, has become an out-of-nowhere phenomenon at the end of a year in need of one. But Heated Rivalry is doing something even more important for the culture than just turning it on. The story of rival hockey players turned lovers Shane Hollander (Hudson Williams) and Ilya Rosanov (Connor Storrie), in its first two episodes, is a patchwork of one sex scene after another. Shane and Ilya aren’t out to anyone, so their physical relationship is something they only indulge in behind closed doors, every six months or so, when their teams happen to be in the same town. They are sustaining themselves on singular nights of passion, even though their feelings deepen each time they give themselves over to the other. It is a love story built from the bed up. For audiences who are used to series fading to black when queer sex starts to get steamy onscreen, the uninhibited and intentional embrace of explicit sex between these two men has grabbed headlines faster than Shane and Ilya grab each other in their bi-annual meetups.

It’s freaking hot. There’s no other way to put it. Seeing these two men crash into each other with an insatiable hunger makes you want more—and that is the beauty of what is happening here. We want more shows like this. The sex in Heated Rivalry isn’t only for the shock value, although that has certainly brought in viewers, and it is straight out of author Rachel Reid’s books. It makes you yearn for more, just like Shane and Ilya are. When you get something you didn’t even know you wanted, or didn’t want to admit you needed, it is intoxicating. And it’s why audiences are falling for this show right out of the gate.

Heated Rivalry also happens to be a very good series, and it works for a few reasons. Williams and Storrie have some of the most intense chemistry on TV in recent memory. The ease with which they touch each other compulsively and instinctively, even outside of the sex scenes, is captivating. But those scenes also work because writer-director Jacob Tierney understands that sex is the building blocks of this relationship. There is nothing wrong with that—and frankly, it is true to life for some in the gay community. So letting the camera linger on the soft and hard kisses, the moaning and the grunting, the fumbling of legs, the thrusts and hand holding, is vital to understand how these two men are finding themselves through each other on their terms. It’s not often that TV is willing to admit that sex can be as impactful as a meet-cute to a relationship, but it is nevertheless heartening and, again, hot to see Heated Rivalry not shy away from it. And wanting more isn’t confined to the bedroom. As Shane and Illya become more inseparable, even at a distance, you start craving more than just sex from them too.

But this isn’t the first time in recent memory that a series has depicted shockingly frank sex between men as a gateway to a deeper story of love. Showtime’s Fellow Travelers put its two stars, Matt Bomer and Jonathan Bailey, in increasingly entangled and acrobatic positions to hammer home just how important physical connection was to creating their decades-long love story, fraught as it was in McCarthy-era America.

But as much as viewers might want more of Shane and Ilya, the success of Heated Rivalry—and Fellow Travelers, for that matter—serves as an important inflection point for what is once again possible for queer storytelling. For too long, the idea of actually showing queer love in all its physical forms wasn’t marketable and disappeared as quickly as it arrived. It’s an uphill climb that Queer As Folk, both the U.K. and U.S. editions, faced 25 years ago. They were just as explicit, if not more so, in their embodiment of queer sex, but they only reached an audience that was willing to find their stories. Similarly, HBO’s Looking had its own direct approach to sex within the gay community and remains one of the most revered (albeit imperfect) additions to this small but mighty genre. With Heated Rivalry’s ascendancy on HBO Max right around the holidays when people are looking for escapism (it continues to make a play for the top show on the streamer), there is a chance for these candid queer love stories to find a bigger audience than they have in awhile. And it’s about time.

Wisely, Heated Rivalry is also wielding its sex-positive powers to tell a variety of other stories. After its two-episode premiere left audiences needing a minute to cool off, viewers came back ready for more hot-and-heavy Shane and Ilya content only to find that episode three was a completely different tale about Shane’s former teammate Scott Hunter (François Arnaud) and his budding relationship with a smoothie barista named Kip Grady (Robbie G.K.). Their story is an altogether distinct flavor of love in the making. They are domesticated from the jump, hopelessly romantic without trying too hard and rooted (mostly) outside the bedroom for now—all of which is fully realized by Tierney in just one episode. It is also an imperfect and fractured relationship by the end of the hour because of Scott’s insistence to hide their relationship. This detour will be important to Shane and Ilya’s story moving forward (as it is in Reid’s novels), but it also showed that Heated Rivalry is playing The Long Game, to quote the title of one of the books in the Game Changers series.

Whether audiences are foaming at the mouth for the sex or blushing for the romance, more than one shade of queer love has found itself in front of audiences this holiday season in a big way. Queer As Folk was a pioneer in celebrating every aspect of queerness, and Fellow Travelers and Looking were critical darlings that managed to cut through even the most prejudiced detractors. Heated Rivalry wouldn’t be here without its elders in this space. But just like how older generations talk about paving the way for younger ones to carry the baton of representation farther and faster than they ever could, this show raises the bar for what we should expect—or rather demand—to see more of from a changing television industry that needs the type of excitement. The puck has been passed. Let’s see what the gay hockey show can do with it. 

Hunter Ingram is a contributor to The A.V. Club.   

 
Join the discussion...