‘Sex Education’ Is Primed to be the Surprise Streaming Hit of 2019

I watch a ton of TV. Most of it’s good, some of it’s bad. Last year, I covered The Kominsky Method, and I enjoyed it, but it didn’t compel me to text my friends and be like, “You gotta watch this new show! Michael Douglas has done it again!” Those streaming surprises, the ones that engender genuine excitement and make you remember why the hell you enjoy TV so much in the first place, are few and far between. In 2018, YouTube Premium’s Cobra Kai absolutely swept me off my feet. I wouldn’t shut the hell up about how much I loved the show. This year, that honor goes to Laurie Nunn’s contagiously charming new coming-of-age teen comedy Sex Education.

Premiering tomorrow (January 11) on Netflix, Sex Education isn’t just good; it’s “cancel your weekend plans” good. A joyous mix of Veronica Mars and 10 Things I Hate About You enveloped in a John Hughes sensibility, the series follows plucky underdog Otis Milburn (Asa Butterfield), a sexually repressed teen virgin who lives with his sex therapist mother (Gillian Anderson). While Otis doesn’t possess the requisite first-hand knowledge of sex, a childhood spent covertly listening to his mom’s therapy sessions has made him wise beyond his years when it comes to sensual savviness. Otis’s gift catches the eye of Maeve Wiley (Emma Mackey), the secretly brilliant school outcast in desperate need of cash after being abandoned by her parents. Maeve’s financial desperation breeds entrepreneurial innovation as she convinces a reluctant Otis to partner with her and set up an underground sex therapy clinic for their classmates.

Sex Education is a teen comedy heavy on sex, but heavier on heart. It embraces the clumsy ridiculousness of adolescence by normalizing the inherent awkwardness surrounding sex. Your teen years are filled with uncertainty, self-doubt, and the feeling of isolation. Sex Education is a snuggly reminder that you’re not alone and those feelings are perfectly normal.

Sex Education is the most entertaining teen series since Season 1 of The O.C. The show’s affinity for the coming-of-age genre is obvious. In a recent interview with Vulture, Gillian Anderson revealed that Ben Taylor, who directed four episodes, was a fan of John Hughes, and the series seems to be influenced by genre staples like Can’t Buy Me Love, The Breakfast Club, and Heathers. So what exactly makes Sex Education so damn good? It starts with the cast.

Asa Butterfield brings an earnest vulnerability to the role that belies his age, and the relationship between Otis and his best friend Eric, played with pitch-perfect aplomb by Ncuti Gatwa, is the backbone of the series. Eric portrays one of the two openly gay men at his high school, and watching this brave character find his voice is so compelling that you almost wish for an Eric-centered spinoff, which is the hallmark of a good show. Every member of the ensemble should feel like they could be the lead of their own series. This also happens to be the case with Kedar Williams-Stirling’s character Jackson.

Much of Sex Education’s allure derives from the “underdogs with good intentions, ‘Goonies never say die!'” spirit of Otis, Eric, and Maeve, but what sets it apart from similar shows is creator Laurie Nunn’s ability to go the extra mile. Many teen comedies are good, but the upper echelon of TV excellence is reserved for shows that give the extra 5% needed to reach that rarified strata. On the surface, Jackson portrays the golden boy of Moordale High. He’s a star athlete destined for greatness and, narratively, serves as the obstacle between the central couple, Otis and Maeve.

In a mediocre series, Jackson would be a one-dimensional jerk, a poorly-formed hurdle our hero would inevitably conquer on the way to a happily ever after. One of the reasons I enjoyed Sex Education so much is because Otis isn’t the only hero of the story. Jackson’s a hero; Eric’s a hero; Maeve is certainly a hero. You can tell how much a writer cares about their story by looking at the central love triangle. Jackson is ostensibly a beacon of teenage perfection. Everyone went to school with a Jackson; he’s the student we all aspire to be. But Sex Eduction’s deft narrative touch slowly pulls back the curtain to show that his life is far from perfect. Even someone who seemingly has it all isn’t immune to adolescent angst.

Last year, I lavished praise on the surgical precision of the screenplay from the movie Game Night, and I feel similarly about the writing for Sex Education. Nothing is wasted. Every line, joke, and visual bit is payed off at some point. Successful television shows tell simple, relatable stories featuring complex characters. That’s easy in theory but immensely difficult to pull off in reality. Sex Education does it and does it well. You empathize with each and every character, but the one that’ll tug on your heartstrings the most is Maeve Wiley.

To know Maeve Wiley is to love Maeve Wiley. “Hot tubs aren’t really my thing,” Maeve says during an early episode. “What is your thing then?” Jackson asks. “Complex female characters,” Maeve snaps back. On paper, this could fall flat or be a little too on the nose; Maeve could come off as a knockoff Peyton Sawyer or beta Laney Boggs, but newcomer Emma Mackey completely subsumes this character. On a show where you could make a case for almost any actor being labeled the “breakout star,” Mackey shines by truly encapsulating the never-ending upheaval of growing up.

Sex Education is a show that’ll make you smile. At its core, it’s an earnest, hilarious teen comedy that cares about all the little things that go into making an exceptional TV series. Exemplary writing, engaging performances, and an absolute banger of a soundtrack combine to make Sex Education an instant classic.

All eight Season 1 episodes of Sex Education hit Netflix on Friday, January 11.

Where to stream Sex Education