On its surface, Disney Plus’ new eight-part series “Rivals” is a salacious “bonkbuster” about the feud between two exorbitantly privileged (and horny) British men living in the exclusive British Cotswolds in the 1980s. Set among rolling green hills and wildflower-filled forests that are part of large country estates, it is, as one character quips in the show’s opening minutes, the “prettiest prison I ever saw.”
While “prison” is probably too strong of a word to describe the privileged lives of England’s posh upper crust, it does capture the lack of agency the women in this world feel. The story, an adaptation of Jilly Cooper’s bestselling 1988 novel of the same name, sets itself up to tell the story of Lord Tony Baddingham (David Tennant), who is fighting to renew the contract for his commercial U.K. television network, Corinium, and getting periodically sidetracked by his hatred for former Olympic showjumping champion turned Tory Cabinet minister of sport and womanizing rake Rupert Campbell-Black (Alex Hassell). However, it’s really a show about how women struggle to find power within this world of powerful men.
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And sex. The show has so much sex that it makes “Bridgerton” seem practically puritanical. It claims its “bonkbuster” title in its opening seconds as the frame fills with a woman grabbing a man’s bare butt before her hands (and the camera) slide up his back to reveal the always charismatic and tragically handsome Rupert shagging a gossip columnist in the bathroom of an airplane that is about to “go supersonic.”
From the first episode’s memorable moment involving naked tennis (and a full frontal) to almost every scene being about an extramarital affair or conversation about sleeping with someone, the show is both scandalous and entertaining, just like Cooper’s source material.
However, viewers shouldn’t let the titillating trappings of the show deceive them into thinking that’s all there is to the story. While “Rivals” is about people who are “hungry for sex,” it’s more than its most salacious moments. Cooper’s raunchy novels are also known for her wry social commentary, and this adaptation maintains that lens.
“Underneath the fun and the froth and the silliness, there’s a very sharp social satire on British class,” showrunner Dominic Treadwell-Collins told The New York Times. He believes this makes the show relevant. “Everyone in Britain is still obsessed with class,” he said. “And the Americans are obsessed with our obsession with class.”
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Personally, I’m obsessed with the way the show weaves together class, gender and race. The tension between the three begins to build when BBC’s star TV journalist, Declan O’Hara (Aidan Turner), accepts Tony’s offer to move to the Cotswolds and take a prime-time slot interviewing people live on Corinium.
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Declan accepts the offer because he sees financial gain and creative freedom. But, like everything in life and in “Rivals,” the reality is far more complicated, and Declan and his family’s move to the Cotswolds immediately shakes things up. His career decision has forced his wife, Maud (Victoria Smurfit), and daughters to relocate, and Taggie (Bella MacLean), his 20-year-old daughter, quickly attracts the interest of middle-aged Rupert, whom her still-married mother is also trying to seduce (as is seemingly every other woman).
The complications grow as the narrative explores equally compelling stories about other members of Britain’s upper echelon. Lizzie Vereker (Katherine Parkinson) is a romance writer working on a new steamy novel to escape her loveless marriage to vapid Corinium TV host James Vereker (Oliver Chris) while finding herself drawn to also-married businessman Freddie Jones (Danny Dyer).
There’s a tense workplace affair between Tony and Cameron Cook (Nafessa Williams), the Black American TV producer he brought in to elevate Corinium’s vision and helm Declan’s new show. Outside of these two characters, the world continues to expand, adding layers of complexity with affairs between other neighbors, coworkers, teenage children and enemies.
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It would be easy for a show with so many subplots to lose the main story thread, but this is not the case in “Rivals.” Instead, each character and their every interaction adds layers of meaning and complexity to the world.
This achievement is a testament to the careful crafting of a show that could be all too easily dismissed as a “guilty pleasure.” From quippy, dry-humored dialogue to the meaningful facial expressions the camera focuses on in a scene, every part of the show feels intentional and purposeful. This is especially true during sex scenes that use nudity to reveal more about the men than the women — both literally and emotionally.
Overall, I was repeatedly impressed at the way “Rivals” creates a female lens into a male-driven world. From this angle, the men and their political ambitions and machinations look increasingly ridiculous. What grounds this silly, privileged world is the women and the way that they carve out space for themselves when they are supposed to be loyal wives, mothers, daughters and employees.
As Taggie tells Rupert at one point, “Well, maybe I’m fed up with sitting around waiting for my life to happen.” Like Taggie, all the women become increasingly fed up with the men in their lives. As the series progresses, it explores the small ways that they seek autonomy within a society and time period that tries to limit their agency. The particular gender roles they inhabit and the blatant sexism they experience are both specific to the 1980s and also timeless.
What’s most impressive is that the show accomplishes this feat in a fun, frothy way that is a treat to watch. By the end of the final episode, the only complaint I had was that I wanted more.
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“Rivals” is the second of the 11 novels in Cooper’s “Rutshire Chronicles” series, so there’s plenty of source material for the series to build upon if it is renewed for a second season. And, based on the multiple cliffhangers at the end, it should be.
“Rivals” is available to stream on Disney+.
