The comparisons between Heated Rivalry and Off Campus were inevitable. In recent years, few TV shows have hip-checked their way into the zeitgeist like Crave’s adaptation of Rachel Reid’s Game Changers novels. The hockey romance pulled off a veritable hat trick since premiering on HBO Max this past November: It was hot-and-bothered enough to please fans of its source material and smut-fic novices alike. It was buzzy enough to make overnight A-listers out of leads Hudson Williams and Connor Storrie, who’ve since popped up at the Oscars, the Olympics, and the Met Gala. And it’s sophisticated enough to win a freaking Peabody.
Unsurprisingly, copycats are already skating their way onto competing platforms, the most notable of which is Prime Video’s Off Campus, an eight-episode take on the Elle Kennedy book series of the same name. Fans of the latter are quick, and correct, to chirp that Kennedy’s novels—which chronicle the romantic and athletic antics of hockey-playing students at Massachusetts’ fictional Briar University—actually predate the Game Changers books by several years. But that fact won’t help Off Campus outshine its heated rival, and neither will the tepid contents of the new TV series.
The first season adapts Kennedy’s 2015 book The Deal, which follows the fake-dating arrangement between music major Hannah Wells (Malory Towers’ Ella Bright) and hockey star Garrett Graham (Belmont Cameli, best known for playing Jamie Spano in the Saved By The Bell reboot). Hannah wants to drum up some romantic envy from her real crush, foxy rock-band frontman Justin Kohl (Josh Heuston); in exchange, she’ll tutor Garrett so that the Boston Bruins draftee can pass his class and remain captain of the Briar hockey team.
It’s standard romance fare, an AO3-approved premise that has been handled before (and better) in big-name genre favorites like To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before and Bridgerton. Hannah and Garrett’s dynamic is far less, well, dynamic than that of Heated Rivalry, skewing vastly more sweet than steamy. But it’s a similar face-off all the same: A brunette goodie-two-shoes with a perfectionist streak odd-coupled with a curly-haired lothario with daddy issues. (Speaking of, Steve Howey plays Garrett’s hockey-legend father, and the character’s one-note villainy is a waste of the charismatic funnyman.) In fact, it all feels so algorithm-driven that much of Off Campus plays like those “spicy” vertical dramas currently interrupting Instagram Reels and TikTok binges with soul-crushing short-form romance. That’s a byproduct of the show’s lifeless direction—even the on-the-ice action is surprisingly lethargic—and astonishingly bad acting.
There are no actual stakes in Garrett and Hannah’s relationship (though the show does give some grace to Hannah’s lingering trauma from a past encounter with a classmate). You wouldn’t know that, though, given the melodramatic gong show of Off Campus‘ lead performances, prompting a secondhand cringe so painful you’d rather take a bodycheck straight to the boards than endure another scene.
It’s all made cornier and phonier by the show’s insistence on its own titillation. Despite clear efforts from showrunners Louisa Levy (Death And Other Details) and Gina Fattore (Dare Me) to horn up the place with frequent slo-mo shots of shirtless, iron-pumping athletes—and contend with the soapy, youthful sensuality of shows like Tell Me Lies, The Summer I Turned Pretty and, yes, Heated Rivalry in the process—Off Campus’ graphic sex scenes act as little more than jarring snags before we’re breezily back to our goofy regularly scheduled programming. (Actual dialogue from a scene set in the men’s lockers: “I can’t even think straight, there are too many penises in this room!”) A few silly bouts of nudity simply do not a smut classic make.
The first season misses the mark, but Off Campus has another shot lined up: Prime Video has already ordered a season two. Per the rumors (and the plots of Kennedy’s books), season two will take a Bridgerton-style approach by zeroing in on another couple from the Briar U student body. Levy and Fattore would do well to focus on the connection between Mika Abdalla and Stephen Kalyn—even in supporting roles as Hannah’s aspiring actress BFF Allie and Garrett’s playboy hockey buddy Dean, Abdalla and Kalyn have more palpable chemistry than the show’s ostensible stars.
If the overall playbook doesn’t change fast—if Off Campus’ sophomore year is still missing that vital kick-your-feet yearning, blood-pumping naughtiness, and a real romance to root for—Prime Video ought to get out of the good ol’ horny hockey game entirely.
Keep scrolling for more great stories.