★★★☆☆

In December 2025, a small Canadian series about ice hockey took the internet by storm. Heated Rivalry (or as it’s fondly known, the ‘gay hockey show’) became the most talked-about new series when it debuted on HBO Max. Now arriving in the UK and Ireland on Sky Atlantic, British viewers can finally see how two players and their naked rivalry broke the internet.

Based on a popular series of YA novels by Canadian writer Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry follows confident Russian player Ilya Rozanov (Connor Storrie) and shy local champion Shane Hollander (Hudson Williams) as they embark on a secret romance.

The pair have barely met before they’re making eyes at each other and stripping off in the shower. Before the first episode ends, they’re in bed together. There’s hardly any tension or buildup, nor is there any doubt the pair will end up together. It’s a strangely whiplash-inducing introduction to this world.

The show essentially brings all your favourite fan-fiction tropes to the small screen, including the smut, secrecy, and yearning. However, if you’re looking for character arcs, witty dialogue, or an exciting plot, you may struggle. Heated Rivalry is made for a very specific audience and delivers exactly what they want. Those outside this target demographic might find themselves switching off after the first episode. But if you commit and turn your brain off, there’s plenty to like. By the end, you may find yourself strangely endeared to this queer couple.

Over six episodes, the show speeds through Ilya and Shane’s lives using title cards to indicate the month and year. Aside from these timestamps and mentions of changing teams, little else changes. If you haven’t read the books or aren’t familiar with the hockey season, it’s particularly confusing. The show would have benefited from using haircuts or tattoos to indicate the passage of time. Instead, the time jumps act as a workaround for a lack of character development, as we watch two underwritten leads hurtle towards the inevitable.

The first two episodes are clunky introductions to the romance. Neither man is out publicly or to their teammates, so they meet secretly whenever possible. When they do meet, the dialogue is rarely meaningful. Heated Rivalry is essentially a series of clunky hockey conversations sandwiched between steamy sex scenes and post-coital confessions—but that does have an audience. For those who enjoy jeopardy and pining, look away; the show wastes no time on “will-they-won’t-they” scenarios.

The series takes a turn in the third episode when it follows a tangent about another player. Out of nowhere, we meet Captain Scott Hunter (François Arnaud), another closeted player who embarks on a relationship with local barista Kip (Robbie GK). It’s a short, self-contained story that mirrors the leads’ internal monologues. This short-lived affair is twenty times more romantic and engaging than anything Shane and Ilya have done up to this point, thanks to better acting and more character development in a single episode than the leads received in two.

The final three episodes of this short first season up the ante. Ilya is forced to return to Russia on family business, confronting his fame, fortune, and sexuality. Meanwhile, Shane has his own realisation, forcing him to face his internal struggles. Finally, the characters show development beyond winning games and having erections. The second half benefits greatly from this injection of plot, allowing the audience to finally connect with the duo. Until then, the show felt cyclical as years passed in a blur of longing and intimacy.

Overall, Heated Rivalry feels underdeveloped, especially for those uninitiated in the sport. Anything that happens to these men professionally or personally is the sole focus; there are no real side characters, their actual play is merely mentioned, and their backgrounds aren’t addressed until it’s almost too late. While the chemistry is palpable, the show would have benefited from slowing down. It’s hard to feel the weight of a “coming out” story when we barely know the people the characters are hiding from.

Much has been said about the sex scenes. While they are frequent and lengthy, they’re hardly as explicit as “pearl-clutchers” might suggest. They are sweaty, and the camera lingers on the leads’ sculpted bodies, but it’s a far cry from the softcore pornography some claim it to be. Crucially, the show does something rarely seen in LGBTQ+ media: it showcases genuine intimacy.

The sex is a major talking point primarily because there’s little else of substance until the final episodes. The relationship is less about getting to know each other and more about getting naked. While the sensuality is a draw, spending more time with Shane and Ilya before they jumped into bed would have been welcome. One suspects these scenes wouldn’t have garnered half the chatter had they been between a man and a woman.

One thing Heated Rivalry gets right is its pacing within scenes. It allows interactions to play out naturally instead of chopping them up in the edit. A late-season phone call is a refreshing example of two people having a real conversation, complete with awkward pauses. The naturalistic direction–often just two men sitting at a bar in silence or eating on the sofa—helps the audience connect in ways the script doesn’t. Sometimes, you learn more about a couple by how they sit together than through what they say.

The lead performances are mixed. Connor Storrie is a star in the making, carrying the series’ emotional weight. With a convincing Russian accent and impressive charisma, this feels like the start of a long career. His performance is even more notable given that his co-star, Hudson Williams, isn’t the most emotive actor. He often delivers heartfelt scenes with a monotone voice and deadpan expression. The creators claim Shane is supposed to be on the autism spectrum, but as this isn’t addressed in the screenplays, it often disconnects the audience from meaningful moments.

Some issues may stem from the low budget and quick turnaround; the show was filmed in less than 40 days. Now that it’s a global hit and has been renewed for a second series, future episodes may fix these technical glitches. Still, there’s something charming about the un-showy production, reminiscent of 1990s TV before the era of massive streaming budgets.

Despite the technical flaws, the show offers a “queer joy” rarely seen on screen. These are two men allowed to process their feelings without tragedy. LGBTQ+ media still struggles with happy endings; romances are too often torn apart by illness or death. Heated Rivalry is soapy and light, but there’s something to be said for letting this genre have its own slice of escapism.

It’s cheesy, clunky, and strangely paced, yet it remains an endearing love story. In a world of never-ending “unprecedented events,” a low-stakes romance about beautiful men who keep falling for each other is welcome. For decades, audiences have watched unrealistic fairy tales where the guy gets the girl. Why not finally let queer men have their happy-ever-after?

CANADA | 2025 | 6 EPISODES | 2.39:1 | COLOUR | ENGLISH • FRENCH •  RUSSIAN

Cast & Crew

writer & director: Jacob Tierney.
starring: François Arnaud, Hudson Williams, Connor Storrie, Christina Chang, Ksenia Daniela Kharlamova, Callan Potter, Franco Lo Presti, Kamilla Kowal, Yaroslav Poverlo, Slavic Rogozine, Dylan Walsh, Benjamin Roy, Kolton Stewart, Robbie G.K., Bianca Nugara, Brandon Ash-Mohammed, Matthew Finlan, Nadine Bhabha, Matt Gordon & Sophie Nélisse.