Fluent in therapy-speak and determined to champion inclusivity, the teen characters from Netflix’s Sex Education might, in another series, be the butt of the joke. But the show’s charm has always been its refreshingly unironic celebration of Gen-Z’s earnestness. In an unfortunate development, however, the fourth (and final) season tips into cynicism.
Following the closure of Moordale, the ’80s-inspired secondary school where the first three seasons of Sex Education were set, the new season takes place at the student-led Cavendish College, which is an even bigger haven of progressiveness, as evinced by its daily meditation sessions and “gossip free” policy. This is something of a shock for the former Moordale students, particularly Otis (Asa Butterfield), who discovers to his amazement that Cavendish already has its own student sex therapist, O (Thaddea Graham).
Aside from feeling like a cheap shot at wokeism, which is too obvious by Sex Education’s finely balanced standards, this results in a shortage of problems for the characters to work through, since everyone is seemingly enlightened already. Past seasons have, right off the bat, presented its protagonists with bullies to take down and traumas to navigate. But this season is slow to drum up any real jeopardy and, in that absence, relies too heavily on the students’ minor sexual anxieties, like Otis’s nervousness about sexting Maeve (Emma Mackey).
The intrigue does ramp up as the season progresses, largely thanks to the development of already tried-and-true storylines. The always-ebullient Eric (Ncuti Gatwa) confronts the uncomfortable intersections between his sexuality and his faith, while Cal’s (Dua Saleh) feelings about their gender identity continue to take shape, now complicated by the unavailability of requisite healthcare. Meanwhile, Aimee (Aimee Lou Wood), who’s more Phoebe Buffay-like than ever, processes her sexual assault through artistic expression.
The increased amount of time spent developing the subplots outside the walls of Cavendish—like Otis’s mother, Jean Milburn (Gillian Anderson), being tormented by a perpetually crying newborn and the loss of autonomy the child represents—throws Sex Education’s high school rom-com format out of whack. And yet, it ultimately comes as a relief given the scant characterization that the new Cavendish students have been given.
The beating heart of Sex Education, though, remains its unwavering optimism in human nature, as no character is so bad that they’re denied at least a chance at redemption. Disgraced former headmaster Michael Groff (Alistair Petrie) is seen on a journey of self-improvement that’s simultaneously hilarious and heart-breaking. He tries with childlike sincerity to become a better man, even enrolling in an online course on the subject, and face up to the generational trauma that he’s passed down to his son, Adam (Connor Swindells).
These weighty subjects, softened by moments of gentle humor, provide welcome reminders of what came easier and more often in the previous seasons. Sensitively handled storylines—like the one that depicts wheelchair-user Isaac’s (George Robinson) battles with a faulty school elevator—are let down by overwrought speeches in which the intended takeaways are spelled out too blatantly. This final season of Sex Education may leave viewers feeling nostalgic but, much like high school, ultimately ready to leave it behind.
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