In the years since Trump weaseled his way back into the White House, and perhaps, even when he first succeeded in 2016, the rolling back of queer rights has been at the forefront of politics. From manosphere podcast episodes to international policy, it is near impossible to not feel impending doom on the rise.
So, when a ‘small’ show by the name of Heated Rivalry hit screens, soon skyrocketing to social media obsession in the late months of 2025, young people around the world took a collective sigh of relief as they switched on their TVs and let the daunting reality dissolve in the background.
What exactly is Heated Rivalry? The phrase ‘gay hockey show’ has been thrown around to neatly describe the show, and whilst that term isn’t wrong, it's far beyond that. It’s definitely hot, that is undeniable, but it's also more introspective than it gives itself credit for. It’s vulnerable, exposing, inclusive, risky, fun, and more importantly, new. In observing the booming attention the show has received, Heated Rivalry seems to be the show everyone didn’t know they wanted, but that they desperately needed. With its unapologetic depiction of queer desire entrenched into the dizzying setting of professional sport, the show displays the fantasy and thrill of classical secret romance balanced with characters wrestling with identities they haven’t fully confronted yet.
In the wake of queer identities being erased, the show has become a haven to queer and young people alike, a necessary indulgence in a world gone mad.
I am, of course, sugarcoating this a little bit, perhaps for my own sake. The positivity to come out of the show’s release and rapid popularity should not be ignored.
However (and yes, unfortunately, there is a however), the show raises many, many, many topics of discussion that are pertinent to our current culture, the queer community and the state of media- though not all bad.
One of the many discussions that has been floating around about the show is its public reception, and how the ripple effect from it will change the landscape for shows depicting queerness, especially masculine queer desire. The obvious reason the show sticks out is how much it's willing to bare itself on screen, both physically and emotionally. From heated explicit sex scenes to its raw representation of repression, fear, societal homophobia and yearning all within a flashy athletic setting, the show is not pulling any of its punches. And seeing an Asian, queer, autistic professional sports player as a main character who is very beloved by fans was a nice touch- the sort of representation that at least I knew I needed.
A few responses have been joking and pointing out how the show definitely does not pass the Bechdel Test, and whilst objectively true, I do agree with those who say that’s the entire point of the show. Heated Rivalry is a show about men and the gripes of masculinity: the good, the bad and the ugly. Many queer people will recognise the struggles traditionally masculine men feel in queer situations, with ice hockey being the epitome of that repressed internal battle. However, I argue that a show that strives to bare itself naked (pun intended) does so as a way to challenge its audience. The lack of women not only removes the problematic stereotype of them being used in unbalanced gender dynamics on screen, but further puts the forefront of how we perceive and manage masculinity and its roles imposed onto those around us and to ourselves.
In the flame that is Shane and Ilya’s budding ten-year long situationship gay mess, we are forced to realise that, even in this fantasy, issues arise. Men, queer men, and our own social understandings of each other are not perfect. Desire is complicated, and queer romance is no different. When the show concludes with its content (if a little mildly ambiguous) ending, we ask ourselves: what do Shane and Ilya confront about not just each other, but ourselves?
Screencap from Episode 4 of the series.
On a more personal note, a feeling that has stuck out to me the most when watching (and re-watching, who am I kidding) the show is, surprisingly, one of discomfort. But not for the reasons you may think.
Firstly, one of the grand appeals of Heated Rivalry is well, the heat. If it wasn’t already glaringly obvious, a show focusing around two conventionally attractive men is bound to attract an audience. It is refreshing to see new faces in the industry, and the fact Hudson Williams and Connor Storrie came from outside the Hollywood machine, on a Canadian state-funded show no less, is emphasis of this. But they aren’t necessarily breaking any wheels in the process of their newfound fame. In many ways, they fit right into the mold of attractive men that will be cast in Hollywood on that factor, to an extent. I am not trying to bash the young actors, as they deserve much of their popularity to the credit of their incredible acting on the show, but I point this out to ask a crucial question: would the show be half as appealing to such a mainstream audience if Shane and Ilya weren’t played by the gorgeous Williams and Storrie?
This is perhaps a question to ask on a larger scale for the media or perhaps maybe society in general, and our own constructed bias on beautiful people on the screen versus real life. Perhaps it’s an issue too large for a show so small. However, this feels crucial when discussing shows featuring and surrounded on queer characters. Queer people on the screen have had a mixed bag with representation, mostly being stuck with being side characters, villains, or the butt of the joke. Only in perhaps the last seven to eight years have they begun to have consistently positive representations that depict them as individuals outside their queerness. Conventionally attractive queer characters have always appealed more to a larger audience: they’re more marketable that way. This isn’t true for every fandom with queer characters, and every queer fandom at that, but as queer media enters more and more into the mainstream, the selling of beautiful people on screen to indulge general fantasies takes over.
All of this to say, I was, and still am, a little skeptical of how much people love the show for what it’s truly trying to say versus the indulgence they receive from its obvious bodily aesthetics. But, who am I to say it can’t be a little bit of both too? As Williams and Storrie have inked into their skin, sex sells, and it's putting its money where its mouth is.
The second discomfort is queer media entering the mainstream. Attempting not to sound like a gatekeeper, it is encouraging to see an increasing amount of queer media enter the mainstream scene, and the casual representation of characters becoming more of a norm. However, at times I find myself nervous about how genuinely this rise in representation is received. From the outright homophobia usually found online to more subtle forms of discomfort around casual representation, over-romanticising problematic representations or simply not recognising nuance in queer media and characters, it is safe to say I find myself protective of queer media.
As a seasoned reader, Heated Rivalry has fanfiction tropes written all over it, from its theme, setting, tone, to even language/dialogue. (It has been rumoured that Rachel Reid’s series is based on Marvel fanfic she wrote; but I digress). I say this with truly all the love in the world: the show deserves its flowers with that fanfiction influence included. Fanfiction, always heavily associated with queer media and fandoms, has gotten a taboo mainstream rep. I wouldn’t be the first, and definitely won't be the last to herald that there are potential award-winning pieces of literature buried under the label of ‘fanfiction’. The popularity of Heated Rivalry is in part due to fanfic tropes and styles getting the recognition they finally deserve. There is as much originality and creativity to be found in this genre as any other art. I just hope, for the sake of queer media and my anxiety, that people treat it with the respect it rightfully deserves.
So what does the explosion of Heated Rivalry mean for future queer works? I’m no expert, and definitely no Hollywood insider, but my hope is that more unapologetic queer media will work its way onto the TV and perhaps cinema screens too. The overwhelming positive support Williams and Storrie have received is both terrifying and hysterically encouraging; let's just hope for the sake of everything gay and good that they are ready to take the future of queer media into a better place.