Sex Education season 4 review: A fine, if overstuffed, sendoff
The Netflix series bows out, reminding us that there's simply no other show like it on TV

Set against a wildly colorful vision of high school, Sex Education has long anchored its storytelling on a simple yet powerful dictum: Sex and its attendant anxieties are central to every teenager’s own budding sense of self. With anxious yet wisened student sex therapist Otis Milburn (Asa Butterfield) at its helm, the series has tackled increasingly thorny issues surrounding everything from performance anxiety to gender dysphoria and quite literally all that’s in between. Riffing off (style-wise) 1980s Hollywood high-school-set comedies—both the raunchy and the romantic—the Netflix series, which drops its fourth and final season September 21, staked a claim for itself early on by unabashedly embracing the didactic potential of its premise. Its title served as a provocative promise: Not an episode goes by without the series teaching its viewers a thing or two about sex, intimacy, sexuality, gender, relationships, and even the benefits of therapy itself.
What began as a relatively modest proposition with Otis’ irreverent and underground school-set sex therapy staged in an abandoned restroom at Moordale Secondary, with every new client/patient of his structuring every new episode, has now, in its last season, ballooned into a sprawling ensemble-driven show that uses Otis less as an anchor than as a provisional (and almost immaterial) center of gravity for its many-pronged subplots. In a way, season four of the show feels at once like a much-needed reboot of the series while necessarily serving as a table-setting ending for it.
Long gone is Moordale Secondary, and that means that a new school year brings with it a new school altogether. Enter: the pastel-colored and student-driven utopia of Cavendish Sixth Form College. With its sound bowls, slides for stairs, bee-keeping classes, and personal tablets for all students involved—not to mention a kindness-first sensibility impressed upon at every turn by the ever effervescent queer group of kids that welcome Otis & Co. into their orbit—Cavendish proves a perfect space for Sex Education to try and reset itself. Otis is once again keen on starting up his practice at school all while the likes of Eric (Ncuti Gatwa, still the show’s MVP), Aimee (much-deserved BAFTA winner Aimee Lou Woods), Ruby (Mimi Keene), Jackson (Kedar Williams-Stirling), Cal (Dua Saleh), and Viv (Chinenye Ezeudu) struggle to navigate this new environment, which brings in a bright-eyed cast of characters, including rival student sex therapist O (Thaddea Graham) and happy-go-lucky couple Abbi and Roman (Anthony Lexa and Felix Mufti). Add in Maeve (Emma Mackey) adjusting to a semester abroad in the U.S., Jean (Gillian Anderson) learning to be a single working mother once more with a newborn in tow, Isaac (George Robinson) bridging new friendships at Cavendish, and Adam (Connor Swindells) deciding to follow his own path away from school altogether, and you’d be forgiven for thinking the series has bitten off more than it can chew.
To be sure, there are moments when this final season feels overstuffed. Ostensibly framed by Otis’ newfound rivalry with O (which leads to a school-wide election that devolves into an Alexander Payne-esque subplot), this eight-episode sendoff often struggles to balance the many (oh so many!) storylines it sets up. In trying to create a welcome mosaic of Cavendish’s many students (not to mention the various characters outside of its school like, say, Jean’s wilder younger sister who comes to help her with the baby), Sex Education often fails to really flesh out its otherwise keenly observed plots. This is particularly the case with the season’s better-known guest stars: Dan Levy as Maeve’s writing teacher in the U.S. and Hannah Gadsby as Jean’s new boss at a local radio station are given so little to play with that it’s no surprise to find both merely offering up versions of their offscreen personas.