“Please get on your knees, on this filthy bathroom floor, and suck my dick. Please.”
Yes, for those who don’t have that sentence memorized by now, that is a real line in only the second episode of the hottest trending shows, Heated Rivalry. Filled with raunchy sex scenes between Shane Hollander (Hudson Williams) and Ilya Rozanov (Connor Storrie), who professionally play on rival hockey teams in perhaps the most prejudiced sport, Heated Rivalry is quite easy to judge by its cover. But although sex sells, if the matching tattoos of Williams and Storrie are anything to go by, that’s not what has positioned the Canadian-made Heated Rivalry and its stars as top contenders, and threats, in Hollywood.
To understand this somewhat jarring sensation, it’s first crucial to understand the foundation of Heated Rivalry, whose source material lies in Rachel Reid’s novel of the same name. Originally facing restrictions posed by U.S. streaming services, creator, writer, and director Jacob Tierney turned to Canadian production for greater creative freedom and financial support through Bell Media with a modest budget of, reportedly, $8 million USD. Though Heated Rivalry later secured a deal with HBO Max, the series was set to first air weekly on Crave, a Canadian streaming service.
Though some might scoff at how well an imported show with a limited budget could do, that is the preliminary reason why Heated Rivalry succeeds. When money is, in fact, an object, every choice matters. Nothing is throwaway; nothing is embellishment for the sake of embellishment. It isn’t a project that’s trying to prove itself with massive, custom sets, a Top 40s soundtrack, or A-list actors. It’s proving itself through the innately human and transformative power of storytelling. The intimacy present in Heated Rivalry, and not just in the physical sense, is composed rustically. Instead of feeling ostracized by a production that seems otherworldly, viewers can find the show’s atmosphere tangible and relatable, not exorbitant.
And with viewers, it’s beyond resonating. Briefly, episode 5 of Heated Rivalry, “I’ll Believe in Anything,” tied on IMDB with Breaking Bad’s “Ozymandias,” the only 10/10 rating on the site and often regarded as the best episode of any show in television history. For perspective, the overall budget of Breaking Bad was about $3 million USD per episode at its peak.
Rather than saturating the commercial market with promos that start to leak into viewers’ subconsciouses unwillingly, the promo, while on a budget, is through connection. This is where Heated Rivalry lives and breathes. Word-of-mouth, chain advertising is potent — if a friend of a friend of a friend’s recommendation made it this far, it must be good. The consumption, then, is not automatic, but curated and chosen. In a modern day where media is often force-fed, this is a savored meal. For comparison, Stranger Things leveraged an insane marketing strategy for its final season in 2025, rivaling that of blockbuster movies and easily skyrocketing into the tens of millions of dollars for an already well-established and highly anticipated series. All this, though, just for fans to come out the other end disappointed.
A limited budget also means casting restrictions. Long gone are the fantasies (if there were any) of Tom Hollander as Ilya. In comes Hudson Williams and Connor Storrie, the literal heart and soul of Heated Rivalry. As actors with unnotable previous credits, Williams and Storrie now find themselves in a Chappell Roan-esque rise to fame. They’re the new kids on the block, fresh-faced and eager. And as intense as the rallying has been for Heated Rivalry, the same can be said of its leading actors.
First and foremost, seeing new actors allows for the sincerity of the story to shine. Yes, they’re actors, and it’s their job, and they are going to have standout roles that they’re remembered by. But for a story that is so vulnerable and rooted in “taboo” matter, it’s almost imperative to have faces that are unmarred by the success of other projects. Viewers aren’t distracted by Storrie’s or Williams’s past roles. Instead, you’re completely in the moment with Ilya and Shane.
Even interviews with Storrie and Williams are enthralling. Seeing two actors be seemingly comfortable in their own skins, juxtaposed by the veneers and fillers of Hollywood, is just as refreshing and needed as seeing two total jocks fall in love. In a Hollywood where the wealthiest cosplay poverty and authenticity is often seen as unprofessional, Storrie and Williams couldn’t fit into these expected caricatures of overindulgence even if they tried.
They look human and feel human, something that Hollywood lacks. Watch any joint interview between the two—Storrie and Williams’s friendship is palpable. No matter how it’s framed, here are two men who are so unabashed about their mutual love and respect, from complimenting each other, to pet names, to finding obvious comfort in the other’s touch. Williams and Storrie give a big “fuck you” to archetypes just by being themselves, which is especially important in a society where the male loneliness epidemic is rampant and often perpetrated by Hollywood tropes.
The combined forces of Williams and Storrie’s friendship and the plot of Heated Rivalry further clarify the ideas of what it means to be masculine and what a queer man “should” look like. In this way, the assemblage of the two is another middle finger to solidified Hollywood stereotypes. A gay man isn’t always the most flamboyant or the guy wearing makeup in the club bathroom. In the same vein, masculinity isn’t bigotry or unprovoked violence. For either, it’s allowing yourself to love and be loved, with whomever that may be. The protagonists in Heated Rivalry fall smack in the middle of the Venn diagram.
As Heated Rivalry gears up for the production of its second season, let the show’s exponential success and the world’s love of two unhinged, Gen Z boys be a reminder to Hollywood that audiences don’t want rehashed stories with recycled actors and sickening budgets. What they want is nonconformity, new talent, and maybe just two boys kissing every now and then.
