Background image: The Bold Italic Background image: The Bold Italic
Social Icons

My belated rant on 'Heated Rivalry'

5 min read
Saul Sugarman

I am not a hater, which I’m sure is something a hater would say. As a gay man, I feel connected to Heated Rivalry and understand — partly — why it resonates right now. It’s a love story in a modern era, when it feels like two men hooking up shouldn’t be forbidden. Personally, I cried twice during the TV series at moments when characters experienced acceptance I never received from peers or family in my young adult life. I get it.

Having said that, the series shares little relationship with reality. It’s written by a woman who is married to a man, with whom she has two sons. (I won’t leap to say “straight woman,” as she hasn't disclosed that.) That perspective might explain why neither the book nor the TV series considers douching — and yes, this matters, because both rely heavily on sex to attract their audience. These men also love and preach condoms, which, in an era of PrEP, is statistically less likely. In the same breath, they skip any conversation whatsoever about STIs or clinic visits.

Two decades ago we had Queer as Folk, a cable show I mostly look back on as the one people decried for being too Caucasian. Fair.

So let’s look at Heated Rivalry, which centers on two love stories totaling four men. Three are white. I’m grateful one is mixed race, but he’s also fair-skinned. There’s nothing said about gender-nonconforming people, trans culture, or gay culture generally. Nothing about Asian culture and its complexity within the queer community; and finally, these are all men who pass as straight. (Well, maybe not Kip.)

It feels like opinions nowadays only come in polar opposites: you either love this or you hate that. I’ll reiterate that there are good parts of Heated Rivalry. A friend once told me to make a sandwich out of criticism: start with the good, say some constructive feedback, then end on something positive. So here’s mine —


The good: Scott Hunter and Kip Grady

Maybe it’s my age, but I found Scott and Kip way more compelling than Shane and Ilya. “Kip is an art history student, so he’s like, sexy and poor,” Heated Rivalry costume designer Hanna Puley told fashion writer Viv Chen. Sure. Sexy and poor — with a $400 monthly Equinox membership, a personal trainer, and a dietician, maybe. A lucky smoothie didn't make this body:

These two had better chemistry and fit into believable archetypes. We’ve all probably met that effortlessly beautiful man who works as a bookshop clerk or barista, and he lives a charmed life between the two pennies to his name. I never chased the “straight-acting” type, but I’ve certainly chatted with them on Grindr. Enter Scott, who wants to live his truth but fears very real repercussions for admitting it.

I’ve read Heated Rivalry, so I can tell you the strength of this story is in its actors. The whole thing is sex with choose-your-own-adventure storytelling. Sex with a side of hockey. François Arnaud and Robbie G.K. are why this arc works. “I know I’m too intense — everybody tells me that,” Scott tells Kip after their first night together, then essentially invites Kip to move in the same day.

I can picture a Lifetime movie where Scott love-bombs Kip into an abusive relationship, but somehow, Arnaud sells his sincerity. The look he gives Kip later on the ice rink had me openly weeping.

The bad: Ilya Rozanov and Shane Hollander

Shane is an incredibly boring character, and I think Hudson Williams did all he could with him. I find nothing believable about the courtship between him and Ilya — except that maybe they hooked up repeatedly over many years. That it grew into love is beyond my understanding, or at least beyond my willingness to buy into it.

Likewise, their chemistry rarely landed or felt necessary to watch, and again, the sex felt awfully unrealistic. This is where I think a queer man writing it might have made more sense. Spoiler, I guess: but it’s incredible to me the amount of detail Rachel Reid used to describe Shane losing his virginity in the books, and yet still, no douching!

I wish I could say there was something redeemable about this storyline, but it didn’t cut it for me. I like the idea of them more than I liked watching them. Ilya as a wounded, oversexed bad boy falling for the innocent All-Canadian type? Great on paper.

In reality, that courtship might exist, but neither the book nor the series sold it. The book is really just sex scene, sex scene, sex scene — whoops Shane got injured on the ice — sex scene. Not exaggerating when I tell you there are at least 15 sex scenes in the book.

The especially sweet: Shane coming out to his mom

Want to know how my coming out went? My mom found a love letter I wrote to a guy I chatted with online, and she called my dad, who, in such an archetypal cliché, was away on a business trip. We’ve come to terms and love each other now. I talk to her on the phone almost every day.

But when Shane’s mom says, “You have nothing to apologize for. Look at me. Look at me. I’m sorry that I made you feel like you couldn’t tell me” — that’s not how my conversation went. That’s not how many conversations go; I’d wager most don’t. Many queer people I know don’t have happy relationships with their families, if they speak to them at all.

Being now an elder Millennial ugh, I’ve processed enough to know I would have wanted the moment Shane had with his mom. Seeing it was incredibly resonant. And I wept all over again.


Listen I like a lot of trash television and enjoyed this series. It's just the trend of it all, and how it's affected people that bugs me — especially the alleged puritanical Gen Z discourse around sex. Maybe there’s just been a massive drought of sex content for them amid all the apparent prudes online. (Not my experience, but I hear things.)

Will I watch season 2? Probably. Heated Rivalry is hot sometimes! It's queer empowering occasionally. Let's just not make it more than it needs to be.


Saul Sugarman is editor in chief and owner of The Bold Italic.

The Bold Italic is a not-for-profit media organization, and we publish first-person perspectives based in San Francisco and the Bay Area. We're operate under a fiscal sponsorship of a 501(c)(3). Learn more about us.

Last Update: February 09, 2026

Author

Saul Sugarman 99 Articles

Saul Sugarman is editor in chief and owner of The Bold Italic. He lives in San Francisco.

Subscribe to our Newsletter

Subscribe to our email newsletter and unlock access to members-only content and exclusive updates.