Sir, another sex scene discourse has hit social media.
This time, the chatter has sprung forth from the loins of Heated Rivalry. The Canadian television series tells the story of Shane Hollander (Hudson Williams) and Ilya Rozanov (Connor Storrie), two rival hockey players who begin a passionate love affair. It quickly became a social media sensation off the back of its explicit sex scenes, especially in its first episodes. Images of Williams and Storrie’s nude backsides spread across the Internet like wildfire. Countless thirst tweets were written (and read by the two stars for BuzzFeed). That, coupled with one of the year’s horniest press tours, sparked discussion about who was enjoying the series and why. Toiling about in that discussion is the perception that Heated Rivalry was merely hockey-centric smut.
“Hockey-centric smut” isn’t inherently a bad thing. However, the label carries connotations that write Heated Rivalry off as little more than that. It’s a consequence of the fraught conversation around the nature of sex scenes in television and film. In this case, the sex scenes strip the series of substance or plot. Because you can see well-shaped butts at least twice an episode, it is a less significant series. It reads as an elevated argument that sex scenes are unnecessary and exist solely for titillation or, worse, exploitation.
The argument is a bit premature when you consider Heated Rivalry’s final two episodes. While its first two episodes were rife with sexual activity, the back quarter only has two love scenes between them. (You can argue that one of those scenes doesn’t count because it plays as a comedic bit.) The fifth episode, “I’ll Believe in Anything,” is of particular interest because there are no sex scenes at all. Instead, the episode focuses on Ilya and Shane in an emotional context rather than a sexual one. Shane confronts Ilya about the nature of their relationship and insists that there is more between them than just sex. The confrontation reveals some of the practical implications of them being together, especially for Ilya. “I wouldn’t be able to go back to Russia!” Ilya yells at Shane. It’s an allusion to “promoting” homosexuality being illegal in his home country.
Shane digs deeper, prompting Ilya to talk about his family for the first time. Ilya reveals that his father and brother are police officers, and that his mother passed away when he was a child. He also shares that his father has dementia, a disclosure that sends a tear rolling down his face. After running away from their growing emotional connection in the previous episode, Shane takes action this time. He climbs into Ilya’s lap, kisses him, and holds him. Ilya quickly breaks down, wrapping his arms around Shane and crying, surrendering to Shane’s comfort. The camera cuts to a wide shot of them on the bed, Ilya rocking with Shane. In different circumstances, the positioning could easily be sexual. Instead, the position shows Ilya and Shane considering the possibility that they could be more than lovers.
That scene shares similarities with another queer series that also pushed the boundaries of the recent sex-scene discourse. The Emmy-nominated Fellow Travelers follows Hawkins “Hawk” Fuller (Matt Bomer) and Tim Laughlin (Jonathan Bailey), two men in Washington, D.C., who fall in love during the 1950s Lavender Scare. The series was even more fearless in showing its central couple’s sex life. (In one viral moment, Tim convinces Hawk to take him to an influential party by sucking Hawk’s toes.) It also explored the complications of being gay in the second half of the 20th century, amidst the sexual revolution and the emergence of AIDS.
One pair of scenes perfectly illustrates how sex in Fellow Travelers serves its characters and their development. In the third episode, “Hit Me,” Hawk takes Tim on a road trip to escape the pressures of D.C. (It’s also an opportunity to assess information that could damage the credibility of Senator Joseph McCarthy.) Hawk and Tim eventually clash over Tim feeling emotionally disconnected from Hawk and Hawk feeling stifled by Tim’s desire for more from their relationship.
The two end up in their hotel room, and Tim, insisting that he could be the “rough trade” that Hawk seems to want, goads Hawk into slapping him twice in the face. The two have sex, but this time Hawk demands that Tim strip naked without looking away from him, tying Tim’s wrists together with his tie, and ordering Tim to say who he belongs to while thrusting forcefully into him. It is one of the series’s most intense sex scenes, leaning into the dominance/submission dynamics of Tim and Hawk’s relationship, which had only been hinted at before.
What follows is even more reflective of who Tim and Hawk have become to each other. After they have sex, Hawk tells Tim about a wound he sustained during World War II. It’s the first time in the series that Hawk speaks at any real length or specifics about the war. Hawk also acknowledges for the first time that he is fallible, experiencing PTSD after the war. Up until that point, and afterwards, the series defined Hawk as unflappable, capable of evading the fates that befall other gay men of his era. This scene complicates that image and shows that Hawk isn’t as bulletproof as everyone, including himself, thinks he is.
Hawk’s most vulnerable moment, happening after an intense sexual experience with Tim, isn’t coincidental. Hawk trusts Tim with this side of himself, just as Tim trusted Hawk to take control in bed. Hawk’s trust allows Tim to assert himself as someone with sharp emotional intelligence who can crack through Hawk’s bulletproof shell. He proves in this moment that he can support Hawk when he is at his most emotionally raw. The scene closes with Hawk telling Tim that he is “good,” like Senator Smith, the only other person that Hawk fully trusts. Hawk signals that his and Tim’s relationship has genuine emotional stakes. That moment likely wouldn’t have happened without the sex that preceded it, where the stakes were just as high from a physical perspective.
Shane has his own Tim Laughlin moment in “I’ll Believe in Anything.” In fact, he is more assertive than Tim. Having come to terms with his sexuality and seeing Ilya more vulnerable than he’s ever seen him, Shane takes charge. He knows that they struggle with verbal communication, but don’t with physical communication. He also understands that his relatively submissive position in their physical relationship can bridge the gap. Shane leverages a familiar and comfortable position and uses its sexual implications to reach Ilya, which Ilya embraces. Even more so than Tim and Hawk, Ilya and Shane wouldn’t reach this intimate level without the foundation laid by their sexual relationship.
For the couples of Heated Rivalry and Fellow Travelers, sex is inextricable from their development as individuals and partners. Tim and Shane not only find love but also explore the depths of their emotional intelligence and how that shapes who they are as lovers. Hawk and Ilya find partners who embrace their sexual dominance and ground them as they stumble through the more emotional and vulnerable aspects of their relationships. It’s possible that these character arcs could still be explored without their sex scenes, but the shift from the explicit to the implicit would rob them of their potency. If we didn’t see the intensity behind Hawk and Tim and Ilya and Shane in bed, we wouldn’t feel the intensity when they were out of it.
And so we return to the sex-scene discourse. I imagine that some may take offense to comparing the two series. On the surface, the two series are quite different. Fellow Travelers has prestige airs, examining the sociopolitical hypocrisies that defined the McCarthy era. Heated Rivalry, on the other hand, is a frothy hockey soap opera that merely glances at the larger implications of queerness in hockey culture. It is true that they serve different functions as queer television and certainly deserve consideration in their own right. However, they similarly reflect the storytelling significance and power of sex. Both series use sex scenes to interrogate their characters and relationships. They also use them to examine, to varying degrees, where those relationships fit in a larger cultural context.
If anything, Fellow Travelers and Heated Rivalry’s tonal and narrative differences broaden the scope of sex scenes in the entertainment landscape. Sex scenes aren’t just the dominion of either the high-concept drama or the breezy pop romance. (Why not both?) Wherever they land, sex scenes do serve a purpose. Sometimes, the purpose serves the characters and their stories. Other times, they serve the audience, who, despite the recent wave of criticisms, do enjoy seeing the characters they care about giving and receiving pleasure. Either way, we lose sight of what a series might be saying about our complicated relationship to sex when we discount them because they depict sex.
Froth or not, we cannot afford to lose that insight, certainly not because of some well-shaped butts.
Leave a Reply