Jilly Cooper’s Rutshire drama shows good sex from a woman’s point of view

Good sex on the screen seems to be having a moment. Steamy gay ice hockey romance Heated Rivalry made stars of its unknown leads Hudson Williams and Connor Storrie. The most recent season of Bridgerton – in which the titular family’s son and their lady’s maid fall passionately in love (and into bed) – garnered 39.7 million views in four days.

The final season of Outlander is currently airing, enduringly popular more than a decade after its episode The Wedding was heralded as a game-changer for representations of explicit, woman-centred sex on television.

These three shows have something in common: they are all adapted from romantic fiction written by women – Rachel Reid, Julia Quinn and Diana Gabaldon, respectively.

They have also all been credited as examples of shows that, like the romance novels they are inspired by, prioritise the female gaze in their depictions of sex. The Guardian has described this as “storytelling that highlights the meandering, textured, sublimely messy inner worlds and wants of women” (even when, as in the case of Heated Rivalry, women are not actually partaking in the on-screen sex).

The second season of Rivals, now streaming on Disney+, is also adapted from a romantic novel by a female author: the 1988 book of the same name by the late Dame Jilly Cooper. Season 1, first broadcast in 2024, was critically acclaimed, and became Disney’s most successful drama of 2024.

Sex and the bonkbuster

Cooper was particularly famous for writing “bonkbusters”: a form commonly associated with the 1980s, described pithily by comedy writer and author Sue Limb as “a big, thick book with lots of bonking in it”.

Sex is central to the bonkbuster, which glories in wild, over-the-top sex scenes. More than half of Rivals’ 52 chapters describe sex between characters – and many of these sex scenes have made it onto the screen.

These range from the tender – such as the first time between Freddie Jones (Danny Dyer) and Lizzie Vereker (Katherine Parkinson), in which he declares her body “an area of outstanding natural beauty” – to the ridiculous. One of our earliest encounters with protagonist and Conservative MP Rupert Campbell-Black (Alex Hassell) is via him playing a naked tennis match with fellow MP’s wife Sarah Stratton (Emily Atack).

Notably, not all – not even most – of the sex scenes in Rivals occur in the service of a romantic plot, which sets it apart from shows like Heated Rivalry and Bridgerton. This reflects the difference in genre between the source texts: while bonkbusters have a lot in common with romance novels – including, but not limited to, their predominantly female readership – they are not quite the same thing.

However, for many readers, the depictions of sex in bonkbusters felt as groundbreaking in the 1980s as the sex depicted in these lauded screen adaptations of romantic novels.

Sex education and female pleasure

In 2022-24, we spoke to dozens of people who read books like Rivals in the 1980s, while conducting research for our recent book The Bonkbuster.

A key takeaway for many was bonkbusters’ role as supplementary sex education. For example, one of our participants appreciated the comparative sexual progressiveness of Rivals, which contrasted with her memory of a 1986 biology textbook “which showed the female reproductive organs but did not point out the clitoris”.

By representing sex on the page, books like Rivals filled a silence about sex in these readers’ lives. One of the most remarked-upon aspects of bonkbusters by those we spoke to was not just the explicit sex, but that the sex depicted was overwhelmingly positive for the women involved – and it was men who had to work at it.

For example, when Rupert and Cameron (Nafessa Williams) have sex for the first time, she “ordered him around like a sergeant-major”. This is reflected in the TV adaptation, where, when Cameron demands more clitoral stimulation, Rupert’s reply – taken directly from the book – is to say “I am, after all, a member of the Cli-Tory Party,” and obliges.

While Rupert is sleeping with Cameron under sinister pretences (corporate espionage), she still benefits in short-term sexual pleasure. Good sex in the bonkbuster tends to happen because men are willing to put in an effort to make it good for women.

Sex adaptation – nostalgia v discomfort

However, bonkbuster sex is not always pleasurable, and Cooper has an eye for the unsexy, darker side of the 1980s. Many such details have been included in the TV adaptation. For example, several female characters in Rivals are assaulted, but in the first season, none of the male perpetrators are held accountable – something which many of our readers also found disquieting in the book.

The TV adaptation, though, has taken the opportunity to redress some of the imbalances from the original text.

In the novel, Cameron requires stitches after being badly beaten by Tony (David Tennant). But in the TV adaptation finale of season one, it is Cameron who strikes Tony. The first season ends unclear as to whether Tony is alive or dead (although Tennant’s presence in the trailer for season two is a bit of a giveaway).

And while Cooper’s novel mentions HIV/AIDS in passing, the TV adaptation places more emphasis on the discrimination against gay men at the time, and introduces a new relationship between two gay characters – Charles (Gary Lamont) and Gerald (Hubert Burton).

The second season has taken this even further. Even Rupert – who got away with everything short of murder in Cooper’s books – has to face the consequences of his past bad behaviour.

These changes are indicative of the different climate of 2026. While some aspects of the 1980s bonkbuster are clearly still important and pleasurable for readers and viewers – the nostalgia, the sex positivity – some things are best left in the 1980s.