The rise of the queer male heartthrob

Female-led fandoms are turning queer romance into mainstream gold, and once-homophobic Hollywood is following the money

- Rakesh Sharma

Heated Rivalry, the global smash is finally available in India. Connor Storrie, one of its breakout stars, just hosted Saturday Night Live—a very particular kind of American coronation. A mere 12 weeks ago, Storrie was a virtual unknown. Even in the fickle and algorithm-obsessed entertainment industry, the speed of his ascent is extraordinary.

That alone would be a story. But what makes it a bigger story is what his stardom is built on: a bawdy, queer hockey TV romance (based on books by Rachel Reid, who writes “cute smut about hockey”), whose primarily female and queer fandom isn’t just large but also passionately, ravenously participatory. The social media frenzy around Heated Rivalry is unprecedented and alarming in its parasocial intensity. If it is eyeballs modern media is chasing, the show and its refreshingly candid leads have ensured there is a steady supply. This Canadian show made on a relatively small budget has aroused the kind of madness that I, in all my many pop-culture obsessed years, have simply not seen.

Connor Storrie and Hudson Williams are no doubt very good actors—see Storrie’s Russian monologue or Williams’ hospital scene—but what really burnishes their status is their Gen-Z-coded homosocial affection for each other off-screen. They are playfully physical with each other; don’t shy away from making graphic sexual innuendos; and each has a tattoo that says “Sex Sells,” enclosed in hearts no less. Watching these internet boyfriends flirt, banter and gently shift the old rules of male publicity has been more culturally consequential than any single episode, and more than welcome relief in a relentlessly depressing news cycle.