9/12 ForReel Score | 4/5 Stars

The objectification of the female body has always been prevalent in the media. Studios have never been shy when it comes to female nudity, finding any reason to show breasts with the guise of boosting ratings - a situation that hasn’t always been the case for men. However within the past few years, the male genitalia has been receiving a similar treatment. Shows like Pam & Tommy, Euphoria, and The Deuce, have been pushing the envelope when it comes to gender equality nudity on screens. HBO Max drives it even further with their newly released comedy Minx.

The show follows the launch of a feminist erotica magazine in 1972. Within the first two episodes, the show addresses catcalling, eating disorders, the dumbing down of housewives, and the idea of women being subservient to men - issues women still face today, 50 years later. Minx’s main focus, behind all the 70s glamor and boundless amount of male nudity, is that women’s sexualty is not shameful, embarrassing, nor delicate.

Inspired by Gloria Steinem, Joyce (Ophelia Lovibonda) feels obligated to document and share her views on the misdeeds of society against women. She pitches her idea as an opposition to beauty magazines, labeling it The Matriarchy Awakens. Trying to set herself apart too much, the pitch is unable to catch on with any publishers other than one. A pornorgaphy publisher Doug (Jake Johnson, New Girl) suggests they use male nudity to disguise the message. So desperate to get the magazine off the ground, Joyce realizes the only way to do so is to compromise, even if that means her material neighbors male genitalia.

The character of Joyce seems to be modeled physically after Diana Keaton and psychologically after Jane Fonda. Consistently being caught in pantsuits, she flaunts a modest and masculine approach to fashion in hopes of being viewed more earnestly by male executives. Joyce is excruciatingly uptight and sexually frustrated. She starves herself of any form of eroticism in order to be taken seriously. Along the way, she realizes sexual empowerment is also a big part of women’s liberation. Intellect and sexiness don't have to be two separate things. Discovering she can be both. Lovibonda hones in on her character’s prude mindset, but leaves room for her much needed growth.

The Smut magazine publisher, Doug, is a jerk, but a lovable jerk - a character Johnson is very familiar with. After meeting Joyce, he sees the dollar signs, but is still respectful of her mind and the movement. Doug is ready to corner the market before anyone else and isn’t afraid to push Joyce out of her comfort zone to get there. At his core he is an entrepreneur trying to climb the ladder in society.

The side characters hold the true comedy gold. Previously one of Doug’s models, Bambi (Jessica Lowe) is now the self-proclaimed centerfold coordinator. She is a cult survivor, easily persuadable, and desperate to find her voice. Working on the magazine helps her develop a new way of thinking. Bambi begins to realize that her worth is more than her physical appearance. She then in turn takes that knowledge her porn sets and helps radicalize other models. Doug’s assistant Tina (Idara Victor) has been very comfortable for the past decade. Working on the magazine begins to radicalize her as well. She begins to question her role below Doug and the value she brings with her. Tina is ready to be accurately compensated for her wit.

Creator and writer, Ellen Rapoport, was inspired to conceive this story due to magazines of the time like Playgirl. Discovering how they were originally intended to be feminist magazine and the staff was populated with feminists and pornogaphers. Rapoport creates an original, spunky workplace comedy aimed to reiterate the fact that feminism was never about women being better than men, but finding equality within the sexes. If the need for men to get off can be exploited and advertised, why can’t it be done for women as well? It also generates conversation around the pay gap, abortion, sexual harrasment, and female masturbation, cleverly using the 70s to expose how these issues have yet to be resolved.

With these first two episodes, Minx is a joy to watch so far. However, it seems to gloss over the severity of many of the issues it's trying to critique. For being an infamous smut publisher, Doug surrounds himself with a very progressive group. His sets are free of misogyny, racism, homophobia, and the models are treated with the utmost respect - other than equal pay. It seems the show wants to solely focus on a specific brand of white feminism in order to remain a feel good comedy. An understandable angle, but it needs to be addressed that it puts shade on many other evils opposed to progression. Maybe if the episodes had more runtime they could delve a little deeper.

Nonetheless, Ellen Rapoport’s Minx takes risks with its subject matter, leveling the playing field in talks of eroticism and showcasing a large amount of male nudity while still remaining relevant and on topic with issues of social justice. Like the industry these characters are a part of, Minx leaves the audience craving more.

EPISODIC REVIEW: "Minx" Episode 1 & 2; A Different Side To the Women's Liberation Movement