Starz’s Minx just concluded its second season, and it is the late-in-life lesbian arc you didn’t know you needed.
After being renewed for a second season by HBO Max, canceled during the last week of filming, and finally picked up by Starz, the show fulfills its promise to return bigger and better.
Season one introduces us to feminist writer Joyce Prigger (Ophelia Lovibond), who, to get her magazine idea out into the world, teams up with porn publisher Doug Renetti (Jake Johnson). Together, they create “Minx,” the first erotic magazine for women. With this premise, the show focuses on tales of sex and sexuality, pornography, and feminism, all of it through the lens of the female experience.
If Lovibond and Johnson give one of their best performances yet, the supporting cast cannot go unmentioned. Amongst the brilliant side characters are ex-model and Minx’s “Chief Fun Officer” Bambi (Jessica Lowe) and Joyce’s sister Shelly (Lennon Parham). Shelly, a typical suburban wife and mother, lives with her husband Lenny (Rich Sommer) and their three children—a life she’s happy enough with, or so she thinks. When she confesses to her sister that he’s never given her an orgasm and Joyce goes on to talk about it on the radio, Shelly turns to Bambi to help her reignite the fire with Lenny. Soon enough, Bambi has invited Shelly over to take sexy photographs of her. In the middle of the photo shoot, Shelly eventually acts on her attraction to Bambi and kisses her.
Season one ends with Shelly leaving a note in Bambi’s apartment and disappearing after spending the night. Still, the season two premiere sees the two nearly being caught by Lenny after he comes home from work early—and it doesn’t take long for Shelly to tell Bambi it can’t happen again. She even avoids working on ‘Minx’ altogether, as she feels it will hinder her attempt to recommit to her marriage. Sweet as ever, Lenny suspects something is wrong and offers that they figure things out together. Cut to six months later—and our married couple is hosting swingers parties in their home. Yes, you read that right.
After sending the kids away, they invite their neighbors over for a night of sex with someone who’s not their spouse. Not only that, but Shelly discovers a penchant for being somewhat of a dominatrix, going so far as to create a new persona, Bella LaRouche, which will also be her nom de plume when writing the tales of her and Gian-Paul’s (Lenny’s) adventures—stories that will be published in ‘Minx’ when she decides to go back to work at the magazine. When she rejects Bambi (though with tempted eyes) upon her return at Minx, a trip to Vassar with her sister brings her queerness to the surface again when she meets Doreen Merrim, Joyce’s college professor, and begins what seems to be a budding relationship with her.
It takes another conversation with Bambi for Shelly to realize that she doesn’t want to hide anymore—and it isn’t the first time the woman triggers something significant in her: she says it herself during their argument in the sauna, she “unleashed something in [her].” One of the most interesting things about the pairing is the contrast between Shelly’s journey of self-discovery and Bambi’s (who Lowe thinks is pansexual) comfortable-with-her-sexuality, been-there-done-that attitude, as well as Shelly’s uneasiness when it comes to her feelings for Bambi and how she chooses to deal with her newly realized queerness. After Bambi sets the record straight as to the dynamic of their relationship—Shelly’s secrecy, her calling the shots, deciding when is or isn’t a convenient time to make space for Bambi—Shelly decides she is done pretending, too. In a new piece of writing she makes Lenny read, she declares that, while she knows “those words may rattle some, ‘lesbian’ sets [her] loose.”
Lenny’s reaction to his wife’s coming out is as supportive as he’s always been. The affection the two have for each other remains unaffected—Lenny isn’t bitter, jealous, or unnecessarily hurt—and there is no resentment. Shelly’s development and her coming to terms with her identity could have quickly been shattered by Lenny’s lack of understanding. Still, unlike many other shows that portray the interpersonal tragedies that follow someone’s coming out, Minx offers us a refreshing portrayal of love and support.
While Shelly’s arc may surprise some—the organizing swingers parties to realizing you’re a lesbian pipeline isn’t the most common—it remains true to its historical context. As Shelly puts it herself, the parties with her neighbors showed her there are so many different ways to be herself, and one of them is accepting what she truly, deeply desires—something she did not know was accessible to her at the time. In more ways than one, Shelly’s storyline highlights an often overlooked aspect of the lesbian experience: compulsory heterosexuality.
Popularized by poet Adrienne Rich, the term refers to the systemic presentation of heterosexuality as the sole model of acceptable sexual and romantic relationships. This is all the more relevant in the context of the 70’s. Shelly’s secrecy when it comes to her sexuality, despite the sexual liberation she’s experienced, reflects the heteronormativity of the sexual revolution as it happened. Minx acknowledges that sexual exploration was predominantly reserved for heterosexuals: in fact, Shelly’s exclusively straight-swinger parties seem almost more acceptable to her than being a lesbian. There is a lot of truth in this story: to this day, a lot of people are unable to see lesbianism as an option, especially in a patriarchal society where it is unfathomable for some that one may not be attracted to men altogether. This leads to a lot of lesbians realizing their attraction to women later in life, sometimes after marrying and having children with a man, as is the case for Shelly.
It is so rare, and therefore so meaningful, for lesbianism, let alone late-in-life lesbianism, to be truly explored, especially with such a positive, uplifting take on how the lesbian character’s coming out is received. With this being a comedy, it could’ve quickly gone downhill for a cheap laugh, but the show never uses its marginalized characters as a punchline or the butt of a joke—which is sadly often the case within this genre. Minx, however, has a sheer respect for its queer characters that is palpable, always making us laugh with them, never at them.
To put things into perspective, the first (positive) lesbian storyline in a comedy show came from Golden Girls in 1986, but it wasn’t until Rosanne in 1994 that the first lesbian kiss in a comedy happened—three years after the very first small screen lesbian kiss on L.A. Law. If in January 1996, viewers of Friends saw the first televised lesbian wedding when Ross’s ex-wife Carol married her lover, Susan, TV’s most significant lesbian moment probably was Ellen’s “Puppy” episode on April 30, 1997—in which Ellen’s character, Ellen Morgan, comes out of the closet along with the real Ellen DeGeneres. However, the controversy and drop in ratings resulted in the disappearance of lesbians from our screens for a few years.
While lesbian representation is more widespread nowadays, the numbers still prove to be low. According to GLAAD’s 2021-2022 Where We Are on TV report, which assesses the number of LGBTQ+ regular and recurring characters on primetime scripted cable programming and original scripted streaming series, 11.9% of series regular characters are LGBTQ+, which represents an increase of 2.8% compared to the previous year. That year, for the first time in the report’s history, lesbians make up the majority of these characters (40%)—but if the numbers get slowly more significant each year, we are yet to see the late-in-life lesbian experience truly and meaningfully explored—which makes Minx all the more special.
Some instances of lesbianism in TV may be blatant rating ploys. Still, Minx proves to be a more nuanced display of the internal struggle many may face when coming to terms with their sexuality, especially later in life and is strengthened by Lennon Parham’s powerful portrayal.
Parham is an all-time personal favorite — whether it’s in the criminally underappreciated Playing House, Andrew Jay Cohen’s The House, or most recently as a director for the funny yet deeply emotional Somebody Somewhere—so it’s no surprise that the undeniable care she brought to her performance in Minx moved me profoundly. There is such warmth and humanity in every character she plays. While she is a proven comedic genius, her portrayal of Shelly is so earnest it makes it abundantly clear that no other performer could have made her as hilarious and endearing as she does, securing her spot as one of the best parts of the show.
Shelly’s lesbianism is the cherry on top of an already wonderfully sweet cake and represents a promising start to not only a potential season three but also diverse lesbian stories being told on the small screen. If Minx’s battles are multiple, its declaration of love for the sapphic community might be its most important statement yet.
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