"It's too much." Why gay sex on soap operas causes more outrage than murder and drugs
When the Heated Rivalry series kicked off this year, it was clear that it was going to be the talk of the town. The adaptation of Rachel Reid's popular novel series tells the story of two hockey rivals who gradually become secret lovers. It's not all sports drama and romance - the series openly depicts their sexual relationship as well. And this is what has become the main target of debate.
According to Pink News, there were immediate criticisms that the sex scenes were "exaggerated", "unrealistic" or simply too much. Interestingly, such criticisms of heterosexual shows are rarely made.
Why queer intimacy is under greater scrutiny
Actor Hudson Williams, one of the leads of Heated Rivalry, commented to Pink News, "There are no explicit details in the show. There's just a lot of ass. If it were heterosexual intimate scenes, no one would talk about it that way."
Robbie Taylor Hunt, an intimacy coordinator specializing in queer projects, explains that any queer intimacy on screen is automatically seen as exceptional. "Historically, we've seen very few of these scenes, so nowadays every one of them ends up under the microscope," she says. For a portion of the audience, queer sex is still "something else" - whether out of sheer curiosity or because of deep-seated ideas about queer people.
Sexologist Zachary Zane, who works with the app Grindr, in turn points out that many straight viewers tend to reduce queer identity to sex. "There's still a fascination with how gay people have sex. Some people can't separate our identity from the sexual component and often reduce us to that."
As a result, queer intimacy faces a different type of scrutiny than, say, the sex scenes in Bridgerton or the show Industry.
When criticism comes from within the community
But the objections don't just come from the heterosexual audience. Some queer audiences also worry that too much focus on sex creates a one-sided image - that we are "only known for this".
But according to David Opie, founder of the queer film magazine Cruising Cinema, this may be a manifestation of internalized homophobia. "When we're afraid of being perceived as too sexual, we're often just adopting a heteronormative view of what's acceptable," he says.
He points out the paradox that many people consider a gay kiss to be "sexualized," while heterosexual kisses in children's movies offend no one.
Sex as part of the story, not a shock in itself
In the case of Heated Rivalry, moreover, it is not a provocation for its own sake. The series is based on books where the physical attraction of the main characters is one of the main drivers of the plot. "If they walked into a hotel room in the first episode and then cut to the morning, the viewer would think: what actually happened?" explains Hunt. Intimacy is part of the narrative - the moment when characters shift and take risks.
Yet even today, producers hesitate. The show's creator, Jacob Tierney, revealed that one TV executive wanted to delay the first sex between the main characters until the second season. "The filmmakers have long feared that gay sex would turn off straight audiences," Hunt says. The result tended to be a "de-sexualization" of queer relationships.
When sex overshadows the story
Interestingly, even shows that aren't primarily about sex are continually drawn to it. The Pink News server recalls the situation around Heartstopper - a gentle coming-of-age story about queer teenagers - which was criticised by a section of the audience for being too "innocent" and lacking passion.
On the other side of the spectrum is Twinless, which went viral mainly because of a brief sex scene between the main actors. This was leaked online and overshadowed the themes of grief and loneliness that the film addresses. Director Oliver Hermanus had to explain why his historical romance The History of Sound is based on melancholy rather than explicitness.
As a result, intimacy can easily overwhelm the narrative itself - especially at a moment when queer representation is still relatively rare.
Generational differences and the hunger for representation
The tensions around queer intimacy also have a generational dimension. More than a quarter of America's Generation Z identifies as queer, but at the same time, nearly half of young people want less sex on screen in general , according to research. Older queer audiences, on the other hand, are often grateful for the very existence of such scenes.
"I grew up in the '80s and there was nothing like that back then," Opie says. "For me, it's a cause for celebration. "As Hunt adds, any new form of intimacy naturally generates attention: "We're entering uncharted waters. And that's exciting."
History, after all, shows that every new form of intimacy on screen first arouses outrage. Back at the beginning of the millennium, NYPD Blue faced protests over a naked woman in a heterosexual scene.
We need more stories - and more types of queer life
Queer storytelling that is both open and commercially successful is still in its early stages. But in recent years, projects have emerged with varying tones - from the romantic Red, White & Royal Blue to the gentle Heartstopper to the rawer Pillion.
But all of these titles have one thing in common: they mostly feature white cisgender men. While there are exceptions, such as Sex Education and Mr Loverman, the queer world on screen does not yet reflect its true diversity.
"This is just the beginning," Hunt says. "There's a whole queer universe out there, and we want to see intimacy between different people-in a respectful way."
Perhaps that's why queer sex on screen will remain a touchy subject for some time to come. When representations are scarce, each carries disproportionate weight. Still, the breadth and variety of narratives is the way to go. As Hunt sums it up: we need both Heated Rivalry and Heartstopper. Different forms of love, tenderness and longing. Because queer people deserve everything.
