It’s tempting to find a larger meaning in the first on-screen nudity in the second season of “Minx.” You’d expect a show about a trailblazing fictional feminist porn mag that centers the female gaze—and the male member—to offer a glimpse at a naked man early in its season two premiere, “The Perils of Being a Wealthy Widow.” And yet, what the viewer gets first is a woman bearing all. Sure, audiences soon see some of the male nudity the series served in spades in its 2022 season, but it’s given less time and attention in the episode directed by Max Winkler than the woman’s T&A minutes earlier. In its eight-episode second season, “Minx” still mixes fun and feminism in equal measure, but it has lost some of the pleasures of its first year.
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Streaming and premium TV have no shortage of female nudity, but “Minx” tried to single-handedly create a bit of gender parity in whose bits were shown when it premiered on HBO Max last year. After a second season was green-lit (and mostly shot), HBO Max canceled the show in a shocker, with Starz soon swooping in to resurrect it, a roller-coaster narrative that feels like it could have been a plot on the series. Starz isn’t afraid of sex (see “Outlander”), but this season feels neutered. There are fewer Minx magazine photo shoots on screen this year, and the ‘70s-set comedy focuses more on personal and professional drama without really going deeper than it had done previously. Nude men still appear, but the show generally treats them as part of the scenery or a joke instead of the sexy set-ups in the first season. Now, there’s less of a female gaze and more of a glazed-over look. 
In a reversal of the series premiere, where Joyce (Ophelia Lovibond) was shopping around her idea for a magazine, the second season’s first episode finds her the one being wooed. Since Doug (Jake Johnson) ceded control of “Minx” to her, she now needs to find a new home for her hit publication. Rooms full of men at Hearst, Condé Nast, and Meredith try to get in bed with “Minx,” but no one immediately wins her over. There’s still some drama amidst the comedy, but the stakes feel lower in season two. The Minx team is less scrappy this season because of their success, with more conflict arising from internal disagreements versus external forces. “Porn’s gone mainstream,” Doug says at the premiere of “Deep Throat,” hosted by Bottom Dollar in the show’s version of 1973. This time around, it’s less a question of if Minx will make it and more of if it will match Joyce’s vision for what it should be.
The show “Minx” smartly recognizes that one of its core strengths (you know, beyond all the hot dudes) is the push and pull between Lovibond’s Joyce and Johnson’s Doug, mirroring the magazine’s strength of combining her feminist insights with his knowledge that sex sells. Even though the nature of their business partnership has changed, season two still manages to pit them against each other in new ways while retaining some of the frissons that made its HBO Max run feel so delightful. 
The show’s other chief asset, its stellar secondary characters, get more of the spotlight this season. Tina (Idara Victor) and Richie (Oscar Montoya) are both hungry for more opportunity in a world that doesn’t want to give it to a Black woman or a gay Latino, even while white women are getting a little bit more power than in decades past. With a similar energy that she brought to “Weeds,” Elizabeth Perkins joins the cast as Constance Papadopoulos, a businesswoman idolized by Joyce who may bring new opportunities for Minx. While Perkins is a welcome addition, two returning characters are the real draw: Jessica Lowe’s Bambi and Lennon Parham’s Shelly. Lowe’s breathy line delivery and comic timing is unmatched, except maybe by Parham’s wit amidst her character’s self-discovery subplot.
Even while the show gives them attention, Joyce is believably unaware or unconcerned with what’s going on in the lives of the people around her. “Minx” is rightly critical of straight white feminists, recognizing the selfishness and shortsightedness of Joyce as she fights for her rights while ignoring those of gays, lesbians, and people of color. She continues pushing for what she wants for the magazine, leaving others behind and thinking that progress for people like her is enough for now. Even though the show is set 50 years ago, it’s still a relevant message about how contemporary white feminists can be equally myopic and exclusionary in their efforts for equality. 
Yet the ‘70s setting isn’t just for illustrating how much (or how little) things have changed. A mini makeover for Joyce means we get to see Lovibond sporting more than just last season’s ubiquitous pussy-bow blouses, and Doug makes the ridiculous polyester suits and loud button-downs look good. The production design remains equally strong, especially in some of this season’s new locations. Icons of the era like Annie Leibowitz, Carl Sagan, Linda Ronstadt, and Joan Didion show up, inciting a lot of Rick Dalton pointing moments in the audience.
By nature, it’s almost impossible for a show that felt so revolutionary in its first season to match those heights in its second. But while the sophomore year of “Minx” isn’t as fresh or as sexy as it was in 2022, this is still a solid comedy, full of smarts and wonderfully silly one-liners, delivered by talented people wearing great clothes in impeccable period sets. It’s worth watching, even if it isn’t — and really couldn’t be — the pleasurable pleasant surprise it was in its first season. [B]