Sex Education’s third season picks up a few months after season two left off, with Otis (Asa Butterfield) and Maeve (Emma Mackey) separated and heartbroken, Jean (Gillian Anderson) unexpectedly becoming pregnant with Jakob’s (Mikael Persbrandt) baby, Eric (Ncuti Gatwa) and Adam (Connor Swindells) in the beginning stages of a relationship, Mr. Groff (Alistair Petrie) had been ousted from his position as Head Teacher and replaced by Hope Haddon (Jemima Kirke) and Aimee (Aimee Lou Wood) still coping from last season’s trauma. Needless to say, there’s a lot going on and a lot of people to keep track of, just like a real high school.
This review will contain minor spoilers for the third season of Sex Education. So, if you’re avoiding anything and everything plot-related, go watch the show and come back. You won’t regret it. That being said, this review will be as light on plot details as possible.
Objectively, it’s easy to write Sex Education off as just another teen comedy show; it’s raunchy and often inappropriate, but beneath all that, it is a series with something to say. Following last season, it wasn’t clear where the story was heading and what real-world sex and social issues they had left to cover. Thankfully, the third season solidifies itself as necessary, both as a continuation of the series’ story and for its social commentary. It’s rare that a series feels so important, not only for the teens it’s aimed at, but for parents to watch as well. Sure, it may be awkward to watch with your family, but the dialogues the series can open up are necessary. This is how sex education should be taught. This is how you get kids’ attention — not through half-hearted assemblies and uneven curriculums, but with an honest and open dialogue about what matters most to modern young adults still finding themselves spiritually, mentally and of course, sexually.
Whether it’s gender identity, sex for disabled people, gender roles, finding oneself after trauma or the role of education in children’s lives, so much is tackled here, and it’s all done beautifully. Sex Education is, most-likely, the best Netflix Original still running. It’s hard to name another one of Netflix’s shows that even comes close to Sex Education’s level of quality.
This season may be the best of the series so far, and hopefully it’s not the last, though it may be the case. Netflix tends to cancel its original series following its third season; its data shows most people stop watching after three seasons. So, it’s probably for the best that even if another season is planned, that this season could easily function as a proper send off. Sure, there’s narrative threads left hanging, but nothing so major that another season is needed ASAP. As a fan, I could live with the show ending here: ending strong, but with enough to discuss to keep it alive in people’s minds.
If there’s one word this season could be described as, it’s brave. Not necessarily because it’s saying or doing anything groundbreaking, but because it dares to double down where many lesser shows would just let things be. One example is Aimee’s story, which had a satisfying and beautiful resolution last season. Instead of keeping that resolution, the writers choose to push it even further, exploring her trauma’s impact on other aspects of her life, apart from just the bus or contact with her boyfriend. It’s a risk that pays off in the end, rounding out Aimee’s character even more and giving a voice to even more survivors of sexual assault. It’s truly powerful, standing out not because of its inclusion, but because of how easy it would be to not include that subplot at all.
Choosing the hard path is something this season does frequently, which is almost always painful to watch and experience, especially since these moments feel so grounded and relatable as opposed to the sillier and more fun aspects that can take up a lot of runtime. It’s surely a great thing that the series somehow beautifully marries those two tones together without a hitch. This season of the series more than its others reminds me of the infamous British series Skins. Though, admittedly, it is much less dark than that series often gets. Skins was also able to jump the line between hilarity and heartbreak as flawlessly as Sex Education’s third season does.
The cast is the main reason for the series’ success and also its often superb writing. Asa Butterfield and Emma Mackey are both fantastic in their leading roles. Their chemistry is palpable, making their seemingly impossible romantic connection even more painful this go-around. Butterfield is also given a lot to handle emotionally this season; he handles all of it very well. His acting goes to another level anytime he shares the screen with either his mother or love interest, so those are the scenes to really look out for.
Ncuti Gatwa is great as Eric, a character that could easily become annoying with a lesser actor in the role. His relationship with Connor Swindells’ Adam is also much less problematic than expected, especially as the show addresses the issues with it and then justifies its position. It’s one of the only things I wasn’t excited to see going into this season, and yet it somehow became one of my favorite aspects.
Gillian Anderson and Mikael Persbrandt also absolutely nail every one of their scenes together and with the other cast members. Anderson, at this point, feels like the only actress who could play Jean Milburn, and the same goes for Persbrandt’s Jakob. Persbrandt brings a level of warmth to every scene he inhabits, becoming a father figure for both the characters and audience alike.
The rest of the ensemble cast — from top to bottom — is also consistently incredible, regardless of their characters’ overall importance. It’s just insane how the show juggles so many characters and gives them all something to do that only on rare occasions feels forced or unnatural. The series has the blessing and curse of having such defined characters that the audience completely understands them, but that also means when their characterization is off in any way that it’s extremely noticeable. Again, these issues are rare (appearing in only one episode) and seemingly inevitable for a series with such a large cast. Regardless, Sex Education has one of the best ensembles in all of TV, an impressive feat for what is just a teen sex comedy on the surface level.
Sex Education’s third season also happens to have some of the best cinematography on TV right now, with a visual style similar to that of the most recent season of Master of None mixed with John Hughes-esque sensibilities and a fair bit of chromatic aberration for good measure. It gives the series a distinctly 80s aesthetic despite it taking place in the present. The series looks cinematic from beginning to end, a feat many others fail to live up to, even those with much bigger budgets. This is also helped by the excellent color grading that make the series look like it was shot on actual film, despite being shot digitally. Simply, all of this makes the series feel more tangible, real and exceptionally unique.
All in all, Sex Education is a fantastic series that deserves to be seen by all of those with even the slightest interest in it. It’s consistently great, and even when it has its issues, they’re small and mostly negligible. While this may possibly be the end for the series, a truly sad occurrence, that just means it will end at its peak of quality, something many series can’t claim to have done. If this isn’t the end, another term at Moordale Secondary, aka “Sex School,“ will always be greatly appreciated, especially if it’s anywhere near as memorable as this one.
