On the surface, Hulu’s new eight-episode series “Rivals” is a salacious “frenzy” about a fight between two overprivileged (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 quipped in the series’ opening minutes, “the most beautiful prison I’ve ever seen.”

While “prison” is probably too strong a word to describe the privileged lives of Britain’s posh upper crust, it reflects the lack of representation felt by women around the world. Adapted from Jilly Cooper’s 1988 bestselling novel of the same name, the story follows Lord Tony Baddingham (David Tennant) as he struggles to renew the contract of the UK commercial television network Corinium. He turns out to be Rupert Campbell-Black (Alex Hassell), the Tory Cabinet sports minister and womanizing broker who is periodically confused by his hatred of the former Olympic show jumping champion. But this is actually a series about how women struggle to find power in the world of powerful men.

And sex. There’s so much sex in the show that “Bridgerton” almost seems puritanical. As the frame fills with a woman grabbing a man’s bare ass, she claims the title of “crazy” in the opening seconds as her hands (and the camera) slide up the man’s back to reveal the always charismatic and tragically handsome Rupert fucking a gossip columnist. The bathroom of a plane about to “go supersonic”.

From the first episode’s unforgettable moment involving naked tennis (and full frontal) to nearly every scene involving talk of an extramarital affair or sleeping with someone, the series is both scandalous and entertaining, just like Cooper’s source material.

But viewers shouldn’t let the show’s exciting trappings fool them into believing that’s all there is to the story. While “Rivals” is about “sex-hungry” people, it’s about more than just their kinkiest moments. Cooper’s raunchy novels are also known for their wry social commentary, and this adaptation maintains that perspective.

“Beneath the fun, the froth and the silliness, there’s a very sharp social satire about British class,” said showrunner Dominic Treadwell-Collins. he told the New York Times. He believes this makes the show relevant. “Everyone in Britain is still obsessed with class,” he said. “And Americans are obsessed with our obsession with class.”

Personally, I’m obsessed with the way the show brings together class, gender, and race. Tensions between the three begin to mount when the BBC’s star TV correspondent Declan O’Hara (Aidan Turner) accepts Tony’s offer to move to the Cotswolds and interview people live on air at the Corinium.

Declan accepts the offer because he sees financial gain and creative freedom. But like everything in life and “Rivals,” the truth is much more complicated, and Declan and his family’s move to the Cotswolds will immediately shake things up. His career decision forces his wife Maud (Victoria Smurfit) and their daughter to move elsewhere, and his 20-year-old daughter Taggie (Bella MacLean) quickly attracts the attention of middle-aged Rupert, whose mother is still married. she is also trying to seduce (like every woman, apparently).

The challenges mount as the narrative explores equally intriguing stories about other members of Britain’s upper echelon. Lizzie Vereker (Katherine Parkinson) is a romance novelist working on a steamy new novel to escape her loveless marriage to vapid Corinium TV presenter James Vereker (Oliver Chris), while also finding herself falling for married businessman Freddie Jones (Danny Dyer). It does.

There’s a strained workplace relationship between Tony and Cameron Cook (Nafessa Williams), the Black American TV producer he’s enlisted to elevate Corinium’s vision and direct Declan’s new show. Beyond these two characters, the world continues to expand, adding layers of complexity to the relationships between other neighbors, co-workers, teenage children, and enemies.

It would be easy for a series with so many subplots to lose the main story arc, but that’s not the case with “Rivals.” Instead, each character and their each interaction adds layers of meaning and complexity to the world.

This success is a testament to the careful crafting of a show that could easily be dismissed as a “guilty pleasure.” Every part of the show seems deliberate and purposeful, from the playful, dryly humorous dialogue to the expressive facial expressions the camera focuses on in a scene. This is especially true of sex scenes, where nudity is used to reveal more about men than women, both literally and emotionally.

Overall, I was repeatedly impressed with the way “Rivals” created a female perspective on a male-focused world. Viewed from this perspective, the men and their political ambitions and intrigues look increasingly ridiculous. The foundation of this stupid, privileged world is women and the way they carve out space for themselves when they should be devoted wives, mothers, daughters, and employees.

As Taggie tells Rupert at one point, “Maybe I’m just tired of sitting around waiting for my life to happen.” Like Taggie, all the women are becoming increasingly fed up with the men in their lives. As the series progresses, it explores small ways of seeking autonomy in a society and time period that attempts to limit their agency. The specific gender roles they inhabit and the blatant sexism they experience are both 1980s and timeless.

What’s most impressive is that the show accomplishes this feat in a fun, bubbly way that’s fun to watch. My only complaint by the end of the last episode was that I wanted more.

“Rivals” is the second of 11 novels in Cooper’s “Rutshire Chronicles” series, so there is plenty of source material to build on if the series is renewed for a second season. And judging by the multiple cliffhangers at the end, it should be.

“Rivals” is available to stream on Hulu.