everything changes
by
Douglas Messerli
Jacob Tierney (screenwriter and director, based on
the novel Game Changers by Rachel Reid) Heated
Rivalry / 2025 [TV series]
Season 1, Episode 5 “I’ll Believe in Anything”
If we might have been a bit let down by Episode 4 of
this now truly “heated” competition between the two men in love, Episode 5
contains all we have been waiting for and reveals entirely new dimensions of
this work in several ways.
First of
all, after another unhappy experience in bed, Shane meets with Rose, a girl with
a long experience of gay men given her role as an actor, who in a dinner
engagement, arranged by Shane, finally confronts him about whether he is really
interested in sex with her, or, to put it more bluntly, challenges him about
whether or not he might not prefer boys.
Actually,
she is more discreet in her questions, first mentioning how cute she finds
Shane (who doesn’t find him to be cute?) before mentioning that her co-star
Miles is really envious. At first Shane is so taken aback that he doesn’t even
comprehend the question, wondering why Miles but be envious of him, which she
quickly corrects, explaining that he is envious of her, reiterating that
her co-actor is gay.
She
attempts to bring up the question again by explaining that she really likes to
be with Shane; he agreeing feels that the same way, although admitting what we
already know in one of the very first lines of this work, “About last night,”
that their sex is not going well. She suggests that perhaps the problem is that
she might not be the right person for him, that perhaps their relationship is
like “a square peg in a round hole.”. Finally, Shane begins to comprehend her
unfortunate metaphors, repeating that he truly likes her. Her next question
puts it differently. “Are there any gay guys in hockey? I mean openly gay men?”
Shane
Hollander, the honest man, admits that there aren’t any. And from there she
smoothly manipulates the conversation to nicely challenge him by asking it he
might have feelings like for someone like Miles, or more clearly, “Can I ask if
you’ve ever been with another guy?” Shane calls up the image of Ilya, and for
the first time perhaps in his life, speaks or at least nods toward the truth. “Have
you ever told anyone that before?” Shane
nods in the negative.
Her next
question is the most important question that Shane must face with regard to his
sexuality. “Is it different with a guy?” We witness another clip out of the
past of Shane kissing Ilya. The time he verbally agrees. And when she asks
whether it was better, he almost breaks down in affirming the truth. This time he goes even further: “The thing is,
I kind of prefer being the hole rather than the peg.”
This is a
momentous moment. After hundreds and hundreds of gays coming out in gay movies
to basically gay audiences, this figure has just come out to a heterosexual
woman in front of a basically mixed gay and heterosexual female audience with
what he have to presume are thousands of straight males peering over their
shoulders. Shane has come out, simultaneously admitting that he’s a bottom, not
only to his highly publicly perceived girlfriend, but to himself. And that will
change everything going forward, providing him with a sense of empowerment over
the self-denying Ilya.
I simultaneously
remembered that after I had come out to myself, the first person I shared the
revelation with was also a woman who I had been dating with the expectation of
marriage. I don’t think I even realized how brave I was in revealing the self
in such a vulnerable situation. So many men, so I’ve since discovered, have
cowered at the very moment and in so doing trapped themselves into situations
so destructive to their later wives and families.
We have
just been shown how brave and truly honest Shane is, a worthy companion for the
more troubled Ilya.
But
perhaps even more importantly, Rose has shown herself to be one of the strongest
of women who not only senses the inappropriateness of the relationship she
might have wished for, but demonstrated how necessary such strong women are to sexually
questioning males. We now only have to look back at the episodes wherein
Svetlana has pushed Ilya toward other men. And, without our having recognized
it at the time, just how crucial Maria Villaneuva (Bianca Nugara), Kip’s
co-worker at his smoothie shop, has been towards his relationship with hockey
player Scott Hunter. Women are an essential part of this series, the forces
behind the frightened male figures who they love and support. Coming out, we
suddenly realize, is not an all-male thing, but generally involves enlightened
females as well. In short, gay coming-out tales, at least since the 1970s, are not
isolated homosexual experiences, but also heterosexual affairs involving
friends and family, which explains precisely the difference between what I have
long described as the two versions of “coming out” films, the early version of
the 1940-1960s, and the later version coming into fruition in the late 1980s. In first version, when there was no one to
come to, it was a private male affair; but later it necessarily included the straight
world.
Finally, as
this film certifies, males and females can truly be friends. Rose states the
obvious: “I have a feeling there’s not a lot of people you can talk to; I mean
about the other things and stuff.” Shane’s response sums up his dilemma: “Things
and stuff can be tricky for me.”
I now know that I have always depended upon
the kindness of women. And I mean this more profoundly than it sounds in my coy
imitation of the Tennessee Williams quote.
Even
Svetlana, soon after, gets Ilya to agree that Shane is “beautiful.”
Their relationship shifts not only in the
public eye, as they win together as team mates.
When Ilya’s
father dies and he is forced to return to Moscow for the funeral, suddenly cut
off for all communication with Shane. What further struggles must a closeted
hockey player suffer, now not even able to phone his lover?
Ilya’s now
seething anger finally results in a major action. But even before that we
realize that for Ilya too, hiding is no longer a choice. When he finally phones
Shane, he demands he put on his glasses—in which he has never previously seen
him—and take off his clothes. This is not just a sexual tryst; it has become a
passion for the other, satisfied even in a kind of voyeuristic appreciation of
the moment. This goes way beyond their earlier releases of sexual energy and
moves into a world of passion. In a strange way, this and the following scene,
is premonition of Ilya’s coming out, an admission of something he has never
admitted even to himself.
Meanwhile,
at the funeral supper, Ilya’s brother Alexi, speaking in Russian with no
subtitles appears again to be trying to hit him up for yet further money and
sacrifice; but this time the now American sportsman refuses, denying any
further relationship with his brother, despite the attempted calming waters of
Svetlana. Even though we cannot comprehend their interchange, we sense this as
crucial transformation in Ilya’s life, a cutting of Russian ties that removes
him not only from his family life but the possibility or even need to return to
his home country. Without perhaps even knowing it, he has suddenly released
himself from his years of secret imprisonment. He has, at last, exited from one
deep closet; whether or not he can escape the other, is left to the narrative pulls
of the plot.
Ilya calls
Shane, and his response to Shane’s “How are you?” says it all. “Okay. Not good.
Probably bad.” When Shane asks about his family, his friend answers: “At their
worst. My brother is, I don’t know, scared. It makes him terrible.” But he
recognizes that perhaps he is upset by the wrong thing. “I wish it could be
different. I don’t know. I don’t know.”
Shane, now
wiser than he has been ever before, perhaps on account of the fact that he now
truly knows his feelings for Ilya and trusts his love, asks Ilya to tell him
everything that’s on his mind but in English but his native Russian.
This truly
brilliant and utterly unpredictable narrative twist allows Ilya the freedom to
say what he would never be able to express to Shane face-to-face in English. If
we felt a bit frustrated a few moments previously when an entire scene between
Ilya and his brother was played out in untranslated Russian (actor Connor
Storrie, who had studied some Russian, is totally convincing in his Russian language
passages—so much so that the native Russian speakers in the scene attempted to
communicate afterwards with him in Russian, unsuccessfully, Storie admits,
since it was all a superficial understanding of the language) we are now able
to enter Ilya’s previously closed-off world, as we participating in the
translation which Shane cannot:
“I’ll never be back here. I hate everything here.
And they hate me. I’ll pay for everything….And all I hear is not. I want more
Ilya, I need more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more….I gave them
everything. I feel like I’m empty. …Look at me and see either a bank or an
enemy. Or I don’t know who. My brother…He always hated me. …And it kills me. I
was not here. …Still I paid for everything. And it means that now I have no
money. …I don’t have anyone. I have a secret, Svetlana, she loves me. And I
love her. But it’s not like, it’s not like I love you. And here’s the thing. I
want only you. Not always only you. I love you so much and I don’t know what to
do with it. Okay I’m done.”
What brilliance! To have Ilya express his
love and literally come out to Shane without the other being able to understand
a word of it, but in allowing him to express it on his own terms, in another language,
makes it clear that Shane not only accepts the other for who he is, but, in
good faith, imagines that his beloved might be expressing his love.* There is
no better way to convey the complete acceptance of the other than by the
acceptance of another language in which that love might be conveyed. Otherness
is the issue here, both in terms of culture and sexuality. Shane abandons
himself to both, and Ilya unwittingly or perhaps very knowledgably fills the
gap. This tele-conversation expresses not only Ilya’s coming out, but
represents a true marriage of sorts, language transforming itself it an
abstract vision of what one imagines and expects of the other. And at the same
time, we, as representatives yet another variation of lovers in our rose as
sexual voyeurs, know a truth which the fictional lover must accept on faith.
You don’t
get many cinematic examples of irony better than this one.
In the
still frozen isolation of the hockey world, however, such a thaw of secret love
may still be impossible.
That is
until…. This episode finally astounds us with the long ago backstory concerning
Scott Hunter, who has been moving up as a winning player for the New York
Admirals but is hardly expected to win, until he suddenly does. Shane’s mother,
described by her husband as a witch, predicts that it’s his turn to win.
Momentarily celebrating with trophy in hand,
Hunter suddenly does something so unexpected that no one, not the broadcaster
nor Shane watching his TV, and certainly not Ilya, also catching the last
moments of the event might have expected. Hunter, after a victory lap, to
suddenly pull apart from his fellow players to signal someone from the stands
to the rink.
It is
Kip, Hunter’s lover. But even we, privy to their secret love, can only wonder
why is this hockey player calling him to the floor in front of all the news broadcasts,
to which now Shane and his parents, and Ilya have grown understandably even
more attentive.
Ilya texts
Shane. It’s time for a meet-up at the cottage. Everything has changed.
*Since it occurred on the very weekend that I was
writing this piece, I cannot help but mention this work in comparison with the
fabulous Bad Bunny half-time performance in the 2026 Superbowl. Bad Bunny
performed a remarkable medley of hip-hop imbued tableaux vivants of
Puerto Rican life entirely in a Spanish-language broadcast the US market, most
of whom are English-language speakers, while approximately 13-14% of the
population speak Spanish. The remarkable montage of events involving numerous
performers, Lady Gaga (who sang in English), Ricky Martin, and the numerous
other real-time figures might have easily been translated into English. But Bad
Buddy understood that it was a far more significant statement to play it out
only in Spanish, forcing US citizens to decide on which side of the divide they
stood: people who wished they had the Spanish language skills and felt,
nonetheless, in thrall to the imagery and vitality of the work or resentful
conservatives angry for even having to bother with facing a language which made
them feel like the outsiders the immigrant population has long been forced to
perceive themselves. Bad Bunny’s view of America was the total Caribbean and
South American universe as opposed to the hostile and singular US States. In
this performance the translation was quite purposely withheld for great effect
as it was earlier in the scene I’m talking about in Heated Rivalry. The
later personal love between individuals, however, was translated but oddly
enough only for the general audience, not for the lover himself. The purposeful
distancing of language is the theme in both works. What does it mean when
communication is withheld? The various feelings of frustration and wonderment
is what every US immigrant has had to encounter when entering US shores.
Los Angeles, February 11, 2026
Reprinted from My Queer Cinema blog (February
2026).





