When Sex Education premiered four years ago, it changed the game for young-adult dramedies—namely, by not skirting around the awkwardness of growing up post-puberty and instead embracing it. And in the process, the show gave us some of the most hysterical, wonderful depictions of figuring out your sexuality (while simultaneously dealing with school and family) that we’ve seen on TV. It introduced us to a myriad of characters we could not only empathize with but learn from, season after remarkable season. But in the final chapter, our favorite characters go through trials and tribulations that feel unnecessary. And in doing so, our ability to empathize and learn from them disappears, leaving us with a show that barely resembles what it looked like when it started.
At the end of last season, Moordale Secondary School was forced to shut down. This means Otis (Asa Butterfield), Eric (Ncuti Gatwa, the next Doctor in Doctor Who), and their pals have to transfer to a new spot to finish their lessons: the insanely progressive Cavendish Sixth Form College, where there are almost no rules, kindness is rewarded, and inclusivity is standard. As our favorite students get used to their new surroundings, they naturally meet new friends. But for some reason, the show decides to focus a lot on them—characters who aren’t given enough screen time to fall in love with over this season—instead of the lead ones we’ve loved for years.
That’s not to say that these new characters are awful. In fact, the addition of Deaf and more trans roles makes this season of Sex Education one of the most inclusive and queer-friendly of the series. Newcomers Abbi (Anthony Lexa), Roman (Felix Mufti), and Aisha (Alexandra James) are all great in their own right. And honestly, we’d probably watch a show dedicated to the trio. Had we gotten a chance to know them sooner, maybe we wouldn’t have minded how much their storylines took away from time spent with the likes of Otis, Eric, and Jean (Gillian Anderson).
Those three aforementioned newbies offer Eric an incredible community of like-minded queer friends—but in doing so, they rip him away from Otis for most of the season, creating a chasm between the two that feels more forced than necessary. It’s a double-edged sword. On one hand, these characters are vibrant, unique, and welcome additions to the cast, which allows the show to explore and normalize trans relationships and sex. But on the other, they distract from a classic dynamic on the show.
Speaking of Eric, his storyline this time around has him facing his community at church, and they struggle to accept his queerness. Luckily, Eric’s new friends help him through this journey instead of Otis, who’s too busy focusing on his own goals. And really, Otis is separated from nearly everyone this season thanks to his concentrated and naive efforts to take over as the school’s only sex counselor. When he finds out the school already has one, O (Thaddea Graham), he immediately wants to replace her. This obsession with O has also gotten in the way of his relationship with Maeve (Emma Mackey), which never really gets a chance to thrive here.
And then there’s Jean. With a new baby, she struggles so much with the responsibilities of motherhood that Otis calls on her younger sister, Joanna (Lisa McGrillis), to help. The problem is that Joanna is so all over the place that she turns out to be a hindrance rather than an aid. She’s financially irresponsible, doesn’t help around the house, and tries sleeping with the same man who fathered Jean’s baby, who, it turns out, is not Jakob (Mikael Persbrandt)! It’s unclear why Jakob didn’t return this season, but his departure means that Jean’s storyline is also filled with new faces: Joanna, her boss (Hannah Gadsby), O, and Dan (Daniel Ings), a.k.a. Motorbike Guy. It was remarkably sad to witness Jean struggle so much with motherhood and mental health, although the story did start a much-needed discussion about postpartum depression.
The onslaught of new characters doesn’t stop there, either: There’s also Viv’s (Chinenye Ezeudu) chaotic love interest, Beau (Reda Elazouar), which takes her away from her friendship with Jackson, as well as Maeve’s wildly unprofessional professor Mr. Malloy (Dan Levy), who proves pointless as far as her writing journey. And even Adam’s brilliant arc taking care of animals is shepherded by a character we barely get to know.
After being recently blessed with Heartstopper’s second season, which explored queer comings of age for its characters without trying to make things dramatic for drama’s sake, Sex Education’s sendoff came off, comparatively, as a bit lackluster. The plots in this last chapter just make it a hard(ish) pill to swallow, especially for a show that we love. In season four, it often felt like the only goal was to drive these characters apart by wedging new ones in between them. In fact, the only folks who thrived here were Amy (Aimee Lou Wood) and Isaac (George Robinson), whose stories were noticeably not interrupted by additions to the series. Let’s hope the next great shows to bow out take note.