Sex Education Season 4 review: The season veers into new directions and delivers mixed results

3/5

Story: Otis (Asa Butterfield), Eric (Ncuti Gatwa), and a few others from the defunct Moordale Secondary School have joined Cavendish College to complete their high school education. Whereas Maeve (Emma Mackey) moves to America after being accepted for a prestigious literature course. Otis and Maeve’s long-distance relationship is under strain, while Otis’s plans to start a sex therapy clinic at his new school face an obstacle after he discovers that a popular campus figure already runs a similar clinic inside the campus.

Review: Prior to the fourth season’s premiere Netflix confirmed that Sex Education will not return for a fifth season. The decision was made reportedly after lead stars Emma Mackey and Ncuti Gatwa announced their departures after the fourth season. It is unclear whether Netflix decided to end the series during the production of the fourth season because the pacing of season four is erratic, indicating that the writers may have been forced to make adjustments to the original story. Regardless of whether changes had to be made, the final season offers yet another raunchy yet heartwarming story, albeit without gripping character arcs when compared with previous seasons.

The central themes of Sex Education have always been about the exploration of teen angst, sex positivity, and self discovery. The series excelled in the first three seasons because it was able to explore these themes through its compelling subplots and character arcs. There is undoubtedly complexity and nuance in how earlier seasons tackled several social issues, without being shoehorned into the narrative. However, in season four, the themes dictate the subplots and characters, which unfortunately renders the story contrived. Of course, there are moments over the course of the eight episodes in season four where the series does lean into its conventional heartwarming storylines, and they mostly revolve around the Groffs, the Milburns, and the Wileys. The character developments of both Michael (Alistair Petrie) and Adam Groff (Connor Swindells) are unmatched, and they have arguably the best subplot of season four.

Cavendish College itself is a character in the narrative and is depicted as a ‘queer utopia’ – a place overflowing with ‘positivity’, inclusivity, and where everyone is oddly kind. It is ironically a more surreal and queer version of Moordale Secondary, but strangely enough, Moordale was forced to shut down because of its distinctive identity while Cavendish has been empowered to flourish. The college also introduces new characters in the form of Abbi (Anthony Lexa), Roman (Felix Mufti), Aisha (Alexandra James), and Beau (Reda Elazouar). While Aisha and Roman’s characters offer avenues for various compelling plot devices, Abbi and Beau’s characters have been poorly written. Beau essays the role of a stereotypical coercive jealous boyfriend to Viv (Chinenye Ezeudu), while Abbi slips into the role of the manipulative ‘queen bee’ of Cavendish. While Beau is rightfully painted as a negative character towards the end of the season, Abbi on the other hand is constantly glorified throughout the season. Abbi’s questionable actions, which are borderline akin to the ‘thought police’, are merely brushed aside as ‘acceptable behaviour of victims of trauma’ – a dangerous notion to glorify.

Jackson’s (Kedar Williams-Stirling) arc in the new season is underdeveloped and adds very little value to the overall story and Cal’s subplot. The struggles of gender reassignment are explored through Cal (Dua Saleh), and Cal’s arc is pivotal to the final episodes. But the most unnecessary plotline is Eric finding God through random ‘miracles’. It takes away the ‘grounded in realism’ aspect of Sex Education. And the writers appear to be convinced that Christianity, or any religion, and the LGBTQ+ ideology will go hand-in-hand. Unfortunately, at least in 2023, the idea is nothing more than wishful thinking. It can also be construed as the narrative projecting a future where religion will be more inclusive. However, considering the rise of far-right sentiment across the globe in recent years, such notions are borderline fantasy. Eric’s storyline, which has successfully explored several themes such as race and sexuality since season one, has concluded unconvincingly.

The season’s central story about Maeve and Otis does receive a heartfelt conclusion. However, it appears the subplot about Maeve’s time in the US may have been trimmed down. Several new characters are introduced, including Dan Levy’s Dr. Molloy, and they are quickly forgotten until they reappear in the finale. Similarly, Otis’s renewed friendship with Ruby (Mimi Keene) and his rivalry with O (Thaddea Graham) also lose a bit of steam towards the end of the season. Apart from Adam Groff’s subplot, the only other storyline that carries the same level of quality is Jean Milburn’s and her struggles as a single mother of a newborn. Gillian Anderson is yet again extraordinary as Jean, Otis and baby Joy’s mother. However, it is a shame that Jakob (Mikael Persbrandt), Ola (Patricia Allison), and Lily (Tanya Reynolds) did not make an appearance in season four. Whereas Issac and Aimee’s relationship offers the season’s most straightforward yet surprisingly compelling narrative of season four. The season’s biggest surprise is Jack Gleeson, who is best known for playing Joffrey Baratheon in Game of Thrones, makes a cameo as a stoner.

Verdict: Sex Education concludes its run with yet another captivating season. However, despite a few heartwarming subplots and its trademark hilarious cringe-comedy, season four is shackled by inconsistencies and poor character development. While it is certainly far from being considered mediocre, season four is unfortunately the weakest one yet. This is largely due to previous seasons setting a high benchmark, and like several TV shows in the past Sex Education is unable to maintain its lofty standards towards its finale.