Heated Rivalry Review

Note: This review contains spoilers for season one of Heated Rivalry.

I have to state up front that I am decidedly not the target audience for Heated Rivalry. While I love to support LGBTQ+ representation on television (as a member of the lesbian section of that acronym), a gay hockey romance is not something I would spend my time watching. Not because of the gay love stories within it – but because I’m not a big fan of the romance genre personally. I was the one who laughed at the absurdities within The Notebook in college while my friends were sobbing. It’s not my particular genre of choice. So, I waited on diving into Heated Rivalry, even after a number of my straight female friends talked it up (it seems that this, in fact, is the target audience for this show based on my entirely unscientific polling of my friends). But it wasn’t until a couple of gay men I trust told me it was more than just sex and syrupy confessions of love that I decided to give it a try. And, on the whole, I thought it was a well-made, well-shot, well-acted series.

For the budget that this small Canadian series was working with, it did a hell of a lot. Sure, most of the sets were bars and bedrooms – and there was shockingly little hockey to be found* – but the shots were crisp and smart, always telling a story visually to match the writing (which is not always the case with even the biggest budget shows). And while I had some issues with the writing (which I’ll get into a bit later), everything the series seeded early on paid off when it needed to, making the series a mostly satisfying binge (with, again, one piece of storytelling that I’ll touch on in a bit). But the show’s biggest strength, by far, was its unflinching portrayal of two men, together, falling in love.

*As a loyal Chicago Blackhawks fan – a team that likely doesn’t officially exist in this world, although Chicago does have a team – I know a decent amount about hockey. But I didn’t love that the Chicago team in this world – just like the real Blackhawks – are apparently on a downslide after a period of dominance. What a bummer.

Sex scenes in film and television are a complex thing. When done right, they not only further the story, they also offer crucial elements of character development for those involved. But far too often they end up being more for titillation than for story – which is why there’s a movement among Gen Z to get rid of sex scenes in media. But here, the sex scenes were key to building the characters involved. And, most importantly, writer-director Jacob Tierney didn’t treat the scenes like something to be ashamed of. Or something to snicker about. Or something to see as beautiful and magical with a soaring score and just a hint of skin before the camera flies up and we are left to our imagination as to just what two men might do in bed together. Tierney treated these sex scenes like sex scenes – sometimes hot and dirty, sometimes emotionally charged, sometimes just plain fun. Which is all too rare when it comes to showing queer sex on television.*

*It’s not a great time for LGBTQ storytelling on film and television these days. And telling queer love stories is still far too rare – especially when it comes to loving relationships between two men (or, loving relationships between two women that aren’t told for a male audience). So, having a story like this, that doesn’t try to sanitize things for the straight audience it needs to court to become popular enough to survive into a second season, hopefully will inspire some other storytellers to do the same. And, hopefully, the straight audience that turned this show into a hit will support those shows as well.

I was also impressed with this (mostly unknown to American audiences) cast, but I was especially impressed with the work of Connor Storrie as Ilya. Yes, Ilya is the more “showy” of our central pair (Hudson Williams was good as Shane Hollander, but his arc didn’t really kick into high gear until the finale). Much has been written about how this American actor learned Russian – and that he spoke it so convincingly that even some native speakers were impressed – but the journey he went on throughout the course of the season was nothing short of spectacular. From the cold, emotionally shut-off Russian at the start of the series – untouchable and unable to let himself be vulnerable – to the man at the end of the season who was able to help his partner come out to his parents, watching Storrie modulate his performance to make this transformation believable was wonderful. Every time he was on screen, he held focus – not in a negative way, but helping to demonstrate just how magnetic this character was to everyone in his orbit. And when he was finally asked to show the vulnerability we knew was hiding under his tough exterior (this is a romance, after all, the broody loner has to eventually melt), it was a master class in how to break without breaking down. I’m eager to see what’s next in store for this young actor.

As for what left me a bit cold, well, it was the structure of the story. Now, a lot of that is due to only having six episodes to push through almost a decade of storytelling – those early episodes had some pretty fast and furious time jumps. And with all of that time jumping, we didn’t have any real chance to stop and sit with our central duo until the finale. It’s only then that we get a chance to see them talk. To see them interact in a long stretch. And that same criticism extends to the other love story – Scott and Kip. Episode three was lovely, but when it ends on the break-up and the next time we see the pair together Scott is coming out several years later (at least I’m assuming that was the timeline – I wasn’t clear just how long episode three was supposed to be covering) it felt a bit like whiplash. Last time I saw these guys interact, Kip was going to grad school and Scott had essentially told Kip he couldn’t be public with him. So, was Kip just magically at the game when Scott won the Cup? And he was cool with, after years of not being together, coming to the ice to make-out with his ex? Or were they together that whole time in secret (which is what I suspect was the case – context clues suggest this, but it isn’t really clear) and this is the culmination of a love story we thought ended in tears a couple episodes earlier?

Now, with additional episodes, both the Scott and Kip and the Shane and Ilya love stories could be fleshed out even more – which would have been great. I would have loved a bit more about Shane’s internal struggles – we get hints here and there, but there just isn’t enough time to really get into his fears. We understand on the surface why he’s petrified of his sexuality, but again, show us more about why he, personally, can’t tell the most important people in his life. And more time with his family would have been great – understanding that dynamic a bit more would help with the coming out sequence at the end of the series. Although, I love that his mother is so business minded she’s clearly already trying to figure out how to make the salary cap work to get Ilya on Montreal – with the added bonus that her favorite team would be next to unstoppable. But, again, I understand that these issues were down to the lack of additional episodes more than to the writing itself. Hopefully a second season has some additional padding to flesh out the stories being told.

But, you know what? While I didn’t love Heated Rivalry, I certainly respect the hell out of it. Adapting romance novels is a tricky proposition, largely because the genre is still so easily dismissed as frivolous – which reeks of sexism, frankly, since women are the main consumers of the genre. And adapting a gay romance set in the very homophobic world of hockey is an even trickier proposition (I could tell you stories about some of the slurs I’ve heard hurled around during Pride night games that would make you nauseous). But it’s a heck of a story to tell, with a winning cast, some lovely writing, and a message that will hopefully resonate beyond its very loyal fanbase. And maybe it will lead to new queer stories getting told on television with honesty and a queer gaze. We can only hope.

Heated Rivalry is currently streaming on HBOMax.