Everyone’s Talking About Heated Rivalry’s Sex Scenes—Meet the Woman Who Choreographed Them
When hockey players Shane Hollander (Hudson Williams) and Ilya Rozanov (Connor Storrie) have sex for the first time in the steamy new series Heated Rivalry, you can feel the passion from the other side of the screen. The sexual tension between the two athletes is often so overwhelming that when the two finally go at it, it’s hot, energizing, and—according to the many viewers posting their reactions on social media—shocking.
But why is this level of queer intimacy so surprising? HBO Max and Crave’s Heated Rivalry, which zeroes in on the romance between hockey rivals Hollander and Rozanov, is gritty, graphic, and unfiltered. The sex scenes go to depths rarely explored in queer television. “It feels important, and it feels exciting because it’s about representation. The story is ultimately about celebrating that through these characters,” Chala Hunter, the show’s intimacy coordinator, says. “I’m really proud to be a part of a story that is pushing that forward.”
Heated Rivalry is based on Rachel Reid’s Game Changers book series and adapted for TV by show creator, director, and writer Jacob Tierney, but Hunter also played a crucial part in the storytelling. She guided the actors through the show’s steamiest scenes, choreographed specific movements in the bedroom, and advocated for the performers’ safety on set.
Prior to her role as an intimacy coordinator, Hunter was an actor who did a fair amount of intimate scenes herself. When the role of an intimacy coordinator became more prevalent during the MeToo movement, productions started reaching out to her for support. Hunter has a knack for crucial and sensitive conversations, making her an easy fit. “I think because people have seen me perform such a wide variety of intimacy and nudity, they were like, ‘Oh, this person might be good at this role. Maybe we should ask her to help us on this production,’” Hunter says. “I was like, ‘Okay, yeah, this could be great, but I’m going to go to school first.’”
Chala Hunter
She got her certification at Intimacy Coordinators and Directors International and has since served as an intimacy coordinator on series like I Used to Be Funny and Band Ladies. Heated Rivalry, however, felt particularly special. “Everyone was being kind to each other, and everyone loved the show, as far as I know,” she says. “There was a lot of joy, laughter, and creativity.”
Below, Hunter breaks down the show’s most intimate scenes, discusses her role as an intimacy coordinator, and shares why her profession is still so valuable to film and television sets.
Did you expect Heated Rivalry to be such a hit?
When the show was [being filmed] and I was watching the work, I was like, Wow, I think this is special. I felt that way when I read the script. But something can be special and still not come out at the right time or resonate with the larger audience in the way that one might hope. But when we finished, I just kept using that word, special. Something really unique took place in the filming of it. I guess I hoped it would be [a hit] because I loved the story and cared about it so much.
Why do you think people are so obsessed with the show?
It’s pretty unique. It’s a gay hockey show. But I think most people crave a level of passion, intensity, joy, connection, and chemistry in their own minds. To witness a story that’s about that is extremely, extremely attractive. The show is funny, but it’s also very moving. So it’s touching a lot of different cravings.
When you read this script and read the sex scenes for the first time, did you feel like they went further than other shows have in the past? How did you feel about the graphic nature of these scenes?
I was like, Oh, we’re being very specific and fairly explicit here, but to be honest, I found it refreshing and different. I find the uniqueness of the voice of the script, based on Rachel Reid’s incredible books and then adapted by Jacob, whose lens and voice are so incredible; the amount of humanity, humor, and sex that he’s able to bring all together into one show, so incredible. The scenes are written very specifically as they are in the book, and Jacob really laid out the action in the script. Portraying queer joy and queer sex and not insinuating or implying it on screen is rare. Celebrating queer sex, queer joy, and queer love—it isn’t really portrayed that much in media. The sex is such a big part of the emotional, physical, and psychological journey that these characters go through. It’s true to human experience.
How did you help Hudson and Connor build Shane and Ilya’s relationship?
Hudson and Connor had a good [Zoom] chemistry read. Jacob is an excellent director and pays so much attention to casting, and he cast these two wonderful people who were super invested in the story and maybe had enough in common that they would align just on a base level, right off the bat. They did come in with a bit of that.
Beyond that, my whole goal was to create a level of clarity and specificity for both of them so that everyone could feel comfortable in order to feel artistically free. I did that through making sure we were all on the exact same page about what was going to happen. What are the emotional stakes in that moment? What are the given circumstances? Where are we in time? Where are we in the arc of these two characters’ relationship together? I have found in my experience that getting really, really specific helps people let go and be artistically free. I also hope I bring a way of communicating about the intimacy, scripted simulated action, and nudity that is calm, grounded, and confident. That I’m just being very matter-of-fact, but generous and sensitive at the same time. It’s a fine balance. I don’t want to add unnecessary intensity to something that already is potentially intense for someone.
Does it ever get awkward on set?
There’s so much awkwardness and so much weirdness. Things are funny or challenging, you know? This job requires so much empathy. I try to be empathetic to all of that. Every person has different comfort levels, different vulnerabilities, and different needs. As long as no one is being harmed or we aren’t moving into a territory where someone feels unsafe, then that’s also okay. Hudson and Connor would laugh at things when they were weird or awkward; that helped them bring humor to the situation. I took my lead from them, and we found a way of working. It’s also okay to make mistakes. Life is weird and awkward and vulnerable. Some of the time, those moments actually make it on screen, and they’re beautiful. That is part of the storytelling.
Connor Storrie and Hudson Williams at the premiere of Heated Rivalry.
When, for instance, Hudson has his head in Connor’s lap, are props or safeguards being used?
Oh yeah, there’s all kinds of options. What they are wearing, in that moment, for example, can be an intimacy garment that has padding. There’s a piece of foam padding called a padded pouch that you put inside of the intimacy garment. I had a huge kit of all kinds of pasties and intimacy garments, scissors. I also have different layers of thickness if we need to add more padding for an actor’s comfort for the action to take place. Or, we would find a different anchor point. It might look like Hudson is rubbing his face in Connor’s crotch, but some of the time, he’s anchoring his forehead to just above Connor’s crotch. There’s all kinds of simulation going on.
What happens if someone gets aroused?
I also make that a part of my introductory conversations. It’s important to say that the body sometimes doesn’t know the difference. We’re also just human beings who are made up of muscle tissue and nerve endings. I always break it down like that and say, if you need to call a pause for any reason, including if you become unintentionally aroused, or you just need to adjust something because the placement isn’t working for you, or because you have to go pee, do it. Actors are so afraid of doing the wrong thing, or of hurting their fellow actor, or of crossing a boundary. Everyone is so deeply concerned about everyone else’s well-being. So, I name it so that people don’t feel like they’ve done something horribly wrong. I always say to the other actor, too, “If you think that might be happening to your partner and you feel uncomfortable, you can also call for a pause.” The whole goal is to empower everyone, to articulate for their own well-being and their boundaries in every moment.
It happens a lot less [often] than one might think. What people have seen in Heated Rivalry doesn’t look technical, I hope. It certainly doesn’t look technical to me. It looks emotional and free. But, when we’re setting these scenes up, it’s incredibly technical. I think Connor may have said this in one interview: It’s not ultimately that sexy. It’s quite challenging sometimes for you to do it correctly.
How did you change your approach as Shane and Ilya’s relationship progressed?
Tracking their relationship, their progression as characters, and the progression of the plot was a major, major thing. We were filming a kiss, for example, later in the actual filming schedule. I was like, “Does it look like they’ve been together for two months? They almost seem like they’re a couple.” When Shane and Ilya kiss [for the first time], Shane has barely ever kissed any men before. So what does that mean for how this should play out? We were also very conscious of it being Shane’s first time with a man, certainly in the scene where they’re having simulated, penetrative sex. How that feels emotionally for him, but also, from my perspective, what those physical sensations might be and trying to really chart that experience for that character. It is written in the script and plays out on screen incrementally. We also talked a lot about how much Ilya takes care of him in that scene. Things definitely changed as we moved along.
Connor Storrie as Ilya Rozanov and Hudson Williams as Shane Hollander in Heated Rivalry.
On the day of filming, are scenes choreographed second by second, or are there moments where things are added spontaneously?
That depends on what the ask is. I certainly try to have everything as spelled out as I can on the day. There are also now legal requirements under the unions. If it’s referring to nudity or simulated sex, it goes in a rider—a contract that articulates what the performer has and hasn’t consented to. That has to get to [the actor] a minimum of 48 hours before they’re going to perform any of that scripted content. If it isn’t referring to simulated sex or nudity, and there are adaptations or adjustments for camera, lighting, or for the actor’s comfort, that can occur on the day.
I really work hard to try to ensure there are no big surprises or large changes, because often, actors might be mentally or physically preparing for a scene that contains intimate content or nudity for weeks, depending on the context of the project. But there has to be some flexibility on the day, though. It just requires a lot of communicating and making sure that if there are adjustments being made, they’re still within the parameters that were articulated by the actor in our early conversation.
There’s a continued conversation in Hollywood about the necessity of intimacy coordinators. Mikey Madison, for example, didn’t use one for Anora. What’s your take? How do you view your role and its importance?
I was an actor for a long time and sometimes still am when I’m not too busy. I worked primarily in the theater, and I did a lot of intimate content and nudity. I come at it from a very actor-centric perspective, while aiming to be a collaborator with all of production and support that whole process. I can understand some of the things that are being expressed by different performers or different people in Hollywood around intimacy coordinating. I would say that my goal is always just to ensure that any action that is being performed on the day has been fully consented to by the people involved. It’s about getting as specific as possible as to what is and isn’t going to happen to enable artistic freedom. It’s not about getting in the way of the actor or the director’s collaboration with the actors, but just ensuring that everything is consented to so that we can tell the story efficiently and artistically. It’s a balance.
Do you see a decline in the need for intimacy coordinators today?
I’m not totally sure about that. It’s a shifting wave. Maybe it feels like there was a moment where it was like, Oh my gosh, everybody has to have one. And that was very popular. Now, it feels like perhaps there’s been some resistance or criticism of intimacy coordinating in Hollywood. I haven’t personally seen a trend in Toronto [where the show is filmed] around not using them. It’s a strong requirement from the union, [ACTRA, which is a different actors’ union than SAG-AFTRA in Hollywood].
What happens on a set when there are sex scenes and no intimacy coordinator present? Does the director just give instructions?
In my experience as an actor, that’s what it was like. The director gives instructions and makes requests. Depending on who that director is, they’re either holding the space well or not. I don’t know what it would be like now to be on a set as an actor and do a very involved scene that contains a lot of nudity. My hope would be that there would be people on that set taking the vulnerability of that performance into consideration for the actor. It’s more vulnerable for some people than others. It’s so subjective and important to be person-to-person specific.
Typically, what does your relationship with a director look like?
It definitely can be a delicate one. It’s about trying to offer reminders about what the actors have and haven’t consented to. Jacob and I talked about this early on. Not all directors are like this, but we try to treat the intimate scenes like choreography. We have a set series of actions, but then the actors could obviously feel free to perform and interpret as their characters. There was no “risk” of anyone having to improv, which can be very slippery. Our whole goal was to avoid that scenario. I try to be a support system, a right-hand person. It’s either technical choreographical notes or like, “We’re seeing the modesty garment. We need to either adjust the camera angle or adjust their bodies.”
Do you have a personal code of conduct?
Of course. Everything that the actors share with me in that conversation is confidential. If I do have to share some of it with the director, with production, then I do it in a way that’s extremely professional and neutral. I’m removing any personal details. I only share the information that is technically required in order for the director to achieve the scene.
Is that both a personal belief and a legal element?
It’s certainly a personal belief, and it’s part of the ethics of how I was trained, bringing an anti-racist, inclusive, trauma-informed, consent-forward lens to everything I do. Those were my values before coming to this profession. I had worked for a long time in the arts and always felt very strongly and been very vocal about them.
The third episode of Heated Rivalry focuses on a different love story between Scott Hunter and Kip Grady, played by François Arnaud and Robbie G.K., respectively. What was it like working with different sets of couples?
It was certainly different because they’re different people, not to be obvious about it. So much of my work is about dealing with a specific person. Life experience and identity play into a person’s boundaries and consent levels when dealing with content or scripted action that’s intimate in nature. Robbie and François were both so generous with each other and really good at communicating. They knew that this episode was [specifically important for their characters], whereas Hudson and Connor have this massive arc. That changed our way of working together, and it changed their approach to intimacy as well. There’s so much transformation that occurs in [Shane and Ilya’s] relationship as a whole, but a lot of it also occurs through their sexual relationship. That’s a huge arc to chart over a longer period of time.
This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.