HBO Max's Minx is smart, fun, breezy and shrewd

The Hollywood Reporter

The 1970s-set drama, created by Ellen Rapoport starring Jake Johnson as an adult magazine publisher and Ophelia Lovibond as a feminist as they team up to launch the first erotic title for women, unfolds in the gap "between lofty ideas and base desires, between firmly held values and sometimes inconvenient lived realities," says Angie Han. "On paper, that might sound as stuffy as, well, a debate over whether erections can be feminist. But in practice, the HBO Max comedy strikes that balance more confidently than any of its characters manage to, serving up a breezy romp that also manages to be shrewd in the ways it interrogates sex." Han adds: "Minx‘s narrative juice may come from the differences between Joyce and Doug, but creator Ellen Rapoport wisely writes them as full, flawed characters rather than stereotypes or talking points. Joyce is a politically progressive liberal, and also a bit of a sheltered prude; she might try to avoid being overly judgmental, but Lovibond expresses her reflexive discomfort with her more sexually liberated coworkers through her fidgety body language. Doug is neither a total sleaze nor a total saint, but a business-savvy charmer who has his own reasons for betting on Joyce. Slick and ambitious, he has little in common with the hangdog slackers Johnson’s perfected in roles like New Girl — but retains just enough of that affability to make Doug hard not to fall for."

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• The thing about Minx that will spark the most chatter is undoubtedly going to be the show’s approach to nudity: "Following the trends established by fellow HBO titles like Euphoria, Minx embraces full frontal male nudity as well as female nudity," says Meghan O'Keefe. "After all, the show is set at a pornography publisher. Female models casually wander in and out of frame half-dressed in costumes and one of the pilot’s best sequences is an exhaustive casting call for male centerfolds. Unlike Euphoria, which uses nudity to be provocative, Minx is using it to defang the insidious shame associated with sexuality in all forms. In the world of Minx, a penis is just a penis and a breast a mere breast."
• Minx delivers a sweet and sexy fix: "With episodes tackling double standards. ego management, and the ethics of respecting unethical authority figures, it would be easy for the half-hour comedy to come across as preachy, or simply slide into the No Man’s Land between drama and comedy, where laughs aren’t as important as saying something," says Ben Travers. "But again, Minx refuses to fit into a preset box. Jokes are plentiful and land with gusto. The cast has an immediate chemistry that feels both natural and well-honed. Johnson, a normcore sex symbol thanks to “New Girl” (back when normcore was still a thing), has an engaged rapport with everyone around him, while Lovibond channels two iconic Dianes — Keaton and Chambers — with an ebullience unique to Joyce."
• Minx is surprisingly timid on both feminism and porn: "The real action... isn’t anywhere near the sex, but the practical realities of getting a new publication off the ground," says Inkoo Kang. "Storylines revolve around wooing advertisers, streamlining distribution and placating puritanical politicians. It feels like a real missed opportunity that Minx is so unwilling to question its own assumptions: that porn is good; that feminism must be fun; and that capturing the White female moneyed gaze is the ultimate marker of the magazine’s success."
• In spite of Minx’s many good features, it cannot quite shake its Joyce problem: Ophelia Lovibond's character "is intended to be flawed, and yet those flaws are drawn in frustrating, contradictory ways," says Kathryn VanArendonk. "She longs for a radical feminist revolution and enthusiastically passes around copies of The Kinsey Report and Our Bodies, Ourselves, yet she can’t connect the dots between her imaginary feminist manifesto and hypothetical sex-positive porn for women. She wants to make magazines for a broad audience but cannot take criticism that would make her work more accessible. She is so totally lacking in self-awareness that she can’t see her enormous blind spots in turning her nose up at sex toys, and for a self-professed radical, she is oddly incurious about her own sexual desires and hang-ups."
• The best part of Minx is its visuals: "Visually, Minx is a hoot — filled with polyester as far as the eye can see — and I was especially taken with the purple-and-green madras plaid maxi dress Joyce wears, going full Breck girl, to mingle among a more conservative set on their hunt for potential advertisers," says Nina Metz. "There are other visual elements worth mentioning. Minx is not coy about nudity when it comes to any gender, but it’s primarily focused on the abundance of male centerfold models who parade through the magazine’s offices to drop trou. The show is downright cheerful about the glories of the male appendage, but only in its relaxed state. It’s a decision you notice precisely because of the modesty exhibited later on, in an entirely different context; during a prelude to sex, the camera suddenly averts its gaze, conspicuously framing things just above the guy’s pelvis. It becomes clear where the show’s comfort level with full-frontal male nudity stops, and it’s at the bedroom door."
• Jake Johnson was born to play a charming, polyester-clad porn publisher: "Johnson, so underutilized since New Girl, commandeers a part like Doug, an unforgettable character capable of charming every woman he comes across, down to a city councilperson’s office staff, while showing a deep masculine sensitivity that’s unusual for the time period but just makes him all the more endearing," says Gwen Ihnat. "And Doug’s jovial response after Joyce corrects his pronunciation of Proust—'Do most people enjoy your company?'—is nothing if not stellar."
• Minx is truly a joy to watch -- it is salacious and flirty, a confection of sex and fun
• There's something revitalizing about a TV show inherently rooted in themes of desire, sexuality, and unapologetic enjoyment of the risqué
• Minx never gets bogged down in lectures -- the whip-smart script and breezy direction keeping things light and bouncy
• Minx's appeal comes chiefly from the charming cast of characters
• Minx zips along so lightly that there isn't time to think too much about anything that could have been a hangup in a less entertaining show
• Minx's penis montage has a purpose beyond shock value
• Presenting the Minx vs. Euphoria penis tracker
• Minx creator Ellen Rapaport underestimated the internet's thirst for Johnson's chest hair: “I did not know that there was so much thirst for Jake Johnson until I started reading Twitter two weeks ago,” she tells Thrillist. “I’m so happy people like his chest hair and open shirts. I would have opened them more if I knew there was such an appetite for them.”
• How Jake Johnson landed on Minx: "In the hands of a less generous actor, Doug would no doubt suffer 'the skeezy used car salesman treatment,' but Johnson plays this raffish hustler with depth, compassion, and infectious charm," says Adrienne Westenfeld. "Kitted out in period-appropriate platform shoes and pastel leisure suits, it’s exactly the kind of tough-talking but tender role that feels written just for him. Minx’s creative team was surprised and delighted to cast him; 'we didn’t even dare to think we could get Jake,' says executive producer Paul Feig. During the casting process, Johnson was starring as a charming ex-con turned bar owner in Stumptown, a beloved but short-lived ABC drama. When Minx showrunner Ellen Rapoport heard the project had been canceled due to pandemic production woes, she raced to offer Johnson the role of Doug that very same afternoon. 'Jake has such likability and vulnerability on camera,' Rapoport says. 'He seems complicated, but he’s so warm and likable that you can’t help but root for him, no matter what he’s doing.'"
• Johnson knew guys like Minx's Doug growing up in Chicago, where he was raised by his mother: "My father was out of the house when I was 2, and he essentially came back when I was 18," he says. "He owned a car dealership on the South Side of Chicago, and he was in commercials with Chicago Bull athletes. He was a drinker, and whenever we would see him, he was loud and funny, and flirted with waitresses, and was sweaty. My Uncle Eddie lived with us because he got arrested in Florida, and they brought him back to Illinois. He hustled me over chess. He got at me to do cons of my little 14-year-old suburban friends. They were these bigger-than-life heroes to me. I knew I was never like these men, but they were so cool."