Sex Education Season 4 Review: A Strong Finish

This piece was written during the 2023 SAG-AFTRA strike. Without the labor of the actors currently on strike, the series being covered here wouldn’t exist.

Note: This review contains spoilers for Sex Education Season 4.

Sex Education finishes strong with its fourth and final season.

This comes as a surprise since Season 3 took such a wild detour in terms of plot and experienced a downtick, as well, in the quality of story structure. While we may be able to write off Sex Education Season 3 as an aberration, it did irreparable damage, some from which the series is unable to recover, even with this extraordinary fourth season.

Although the season does give it the old college try and excels in many areas. Its slew of happy and satisfying endings is almost enough to sweeten any bitterness that transferred over from the previous season.

The Cavendish Way

With the infamous “sex school” closed, students of Moordale Secondary have to finish their final year at a new school, and Cavendish College is quite different from what they know. It’s basically Degrassi on steroids.

First off, the school is run by the students — the principal doesn’t even appear until Sex Education Season 4 Episode 5. There are gender-neutral loos, green initiatives, and a focus on the mental health of the student body.

Otis: It’s like Amsterdam.
Eric: But in space.
Otis: And everyone seems happy.
Eric: And queer.

On the surface, Cavendish is forward-thinking, inclusive, and socially aware. However, it soon becomes clear that the environment is full of toxic positivity. Moordale surely had its share of problems, but this is uncharted territory for the embittered new students. 

There is a clash of problematic behavior that makes for delicious conflict and comedy. The toxicity that the Moordale students bring with them serves to highlight what is toxic about this new school and its so-called progressiveness. 

And that’s none more evident in the storyline of the competing student therapists. 

Student Sex Shrink Showdown

For its final season, Sex Education doubles down on the student sex therapist concept around which the series revolves.

It’s Otis, the “new kid” — Adam was quite clairvoyant calling him that on Season 1 — versus O, Cavendish’s resident counselor, played by Thaddea Graham. 

Otis is in a new environment setting up his clinic by himself without the person that pushed him to do it in the first place. To top it off, he has competition both at school and at home; O creates challenge after challenge for Otis all while he’s dealing with being unseated as shag specialist Dr. Jean Milburn’s only child.

A lot of the drama is interconnected and that is what gives this season a soapy, fun side to go with the sadness and tension.

From Otis’ position, he feels alone with everyone against him. O attacks him on all fronts, his mother sides with his sworn enemy (unintentionally and professionally, that is), his girlfriend is unable to be there for him, and his best friend begins to put distance between them.

O comes across like how Jean was with Otis on Season 1, so it’s even more interesting and entertaining that she teams up with his mother. 

Otis: You get inside people’s brains. You wheedle in like some wheedling brain wheedler!

O makes for a fascinating rival for Otis, and even more fascinating in the context of this strange new school where public opinion changes like the tides. It takes us in so many different directions, often unexpected ones, that lead to well-told stories. 

Like Ruby’s.

One thing Sex Education Season 3 had on the pro side was giving Mimi Keene more screen time as the legendary Ruby Matthews. On the con side, her story needed more time to develop, and, as a result, her third season-ending felt rushed and inadequate.

Season 4 ups the Ruby factor, rightfully, and it allows Keene to showcase her range — I’m still thinking of her delivery of “I would rather wear synthetic wool.”

Ruby’s story of being bullied in her past directly connects to O while her present is very much tied to Otis, which brings her into the middle of the complicated web that is the Sex Education universe.

Ruby: Hello, I’m Ruby Matthews. The bed-wetter. I released that video because I wanted to destroy O like she destroyed me, and I thought it was going to feel very good, and it didn’t, which is very annoying because it made me realize that this stupid college is starting to make me have the… the feelings or something. And I honestly thought this whole “being kind” thing was a load of crap. Nobody can be that perfect. And you’re certainly not. But I’ve realized that you’re trying to make the world a better place. And that makes me want to be better. I think the Cavendish thing to do would be to give her a second chance.

Again, Keene’s delivery is spectacular. Absolutely no notes. 

Bully Redemption

I love that Ruby gets to have this hero moment in front of the whole college, which follows another win when she gets access to the mall security tape due to her icon status — “She’s kind of a big deal.”

It’s important to show these victories, but this season doesn’t let Ruby off the hook completely, and that’s important, too. She and Maeve have one interaction, which occurs on Sex Education Season 4 Episode 7, and it reminds us that while Ruby has been a victim of bullying, she has also been the bully.

Ruby: I’m sorry about your mum.
Maeve: Oh, do cock biters get a free pass when they’ve got a dead mum? How gracious.

The bully redemption trope can be a tough one to sell, and audiences aren’t always buying. Sex Education does it well many times over within this season, but it also plays the long game with stories that began at the start of Season 1.

That’s right, I am talking about the Groff men.

Michael Groff — called “the most repressed man I’ve ever encountered” by Dr. Milburn — bullied his son relentlessly, and Adam, in turn, became a bully as well. This harmful pattern is shown in a story arc that spans all four seasons, and, thankfully, it ends happily for all involved. 

The Ruby/O storyline is quite similar in message, just abbreviated, but it plays out in an organic way that really works for the fourth season. There’s even a scene that intercuts Mr. Groff and Ruby eating their lunches alone in the bathroom stalls. 

I appreciate the lengthy development of Michael and Adam’s relationship throughout the series because it shows just how damaging that behavior is and how difficult it can be to repair that damage.

Adam: You don’t like me
Michael: No. Adam, I do like you very much. I love you. You’re my son. I just don’t like myself. And I’ve made you feel small because of that, and I deeply regret it. I know we can never get that time back, but I am trying to change.

Sex Education Season 3 focused a lot on Michael Groff’s personal growth — too much in my opinion — but now, in hindsight, I see how it’s beneficial to the storytelling of this arc. 

AP Sex Ed

The theme of bullying is portrayed in a plethora of ways on Sex Education in order to represent the many different experiences people can have in an aggressor/victim situation. Since one of the series’ strongest aspects is doling out actual advice on sex and relationships to the viewer in an engaging manner, repeated topics never feel like a rehashing or like they’re overdone.

While the subject matter can be recurrent at times, there is a lot more to explore on most of the topics that the series touches on, such as non-binary and trans advocacy, ace awareness, as well as issues of accessibility and ableism.

When the character of Isaac was introduced on Sex Education Season 2, his disability was addressed but wasn’t the focus of his story. On Season 4, it becomes the focus of an entire accessibility plotline that includes Isaac yet doesn’t define his whole character arc. 

There are so many experiences disabled people have that are underrepresented in media, and I am happy that the series decided to add more stories — and intersectional stories — to its farewell season. 

Aisha, portrayed by deaf actor Alexandra James, is a great example of this on Season 4. Her disability is not the sole purpose of her character, but it does, naturally, play a significant part in her story. She is a young, queer, disabled Black woman, a part of the popular Coven on campus, and a love interest for Cal.

Isaac and Aisha unintentionally team up to spark a much-needed protest of the school’s lack of accessibility in a powerful scene where they are able to voice the injustices that they face on a constant. 

Isaac: I’ve got other things I need to be worried about. Whether I’m gonna get a good result on my exam. What I’m gonna have for dinner tonight. Normal everyday shit. But instead, I’m here wasting my time explaining why accessibility is a big deal when it should be a given.
Aisha: It’s not a misunderstanding, it’s an afterthought. Lip reading, having people speak for me, no notetaker in class. It’s so draining.
New Student: I wish people understood that our problems come from barriers in society, not from our disabilities.

The inclusion of the new student here is random and made comical, but that doesn’t lessen the weight of his words. Not only is this a message audiences need to hear, but it also speaks to the power of protest. The students’ spontaneous sit-in is inspiring and it starts the real conversation with faculty so that improvements can actually be made going forward.

And how adorable is Aimee being excited about participating in her first protest, “like the famous naked people in the ’60s with the funny little bums.”

Similar to the character of Isaac, Cal began their journey on the series in Season 3 bringing attention to non-binary and trans issues, such as respect to pronouns, the difficulty of gendered facilities, and the use of compression binders. But, there are so many more facets to these identities that are on a wide spectrum. Season 4 explores, in-depth, Cal’s mental health struggles related to body dysmorphia, use of testosterone, and poor access to transgender care.

Another example is the addition of O, which not only serves as conflict for Otis but elaborates on the Season 2 advice Jean gives to Florence about asexuality. It’s nice to revisit that topic and get another perspective through the telling of O’s story.

Paternity Problems

We knew Season 4 would have a plot around paternity, but what’s unexpected are the parallels between baby Joy’s and Jackson’s birth story. The latter has the weightiness that the former lacks. 

Sex Education dug itself into a deep hole with Jakob not being Joy’s father. This cliffhanger bit soured the conclusion of Season 3 for me and I had my doubts that it would be handled well on Season 4 — its last chance to make things right.

Jean’s postpartum arc this season is the series making lemonade out of the third season lemons. Her story isn’t overpowered by baby daddy drama, rather it focuses on Jean’s journey in motherhood, thus giving Gillian Anderson loads to work with — lucky for us.

I am grateful for her portrayal of postnatal depression and her struggle to ask for or accept help from others. Scenes between Jean and her sister Joanna (Lisa McGrillis) give us backstory and context that is invaluable, allowing us to get to know her on a deeper level.

The sex therapist has had it rough during her time on Sex Education, and, really, the one thing I wanted going into Season 4 was justice for Jean Milburn. I’m not sure what we end up getting is justice exactly, but I do know that I am happy to have every second of screen time we get with her.

Even when it’s making Joy’s paternity out to be the punchline. 

I mean, Dan the motorbike man? The dude with the Oedipal complex who keeps calling Jean “mum?” That guy? It’s so silly. 

The hints dropped along the way while Dan (Daniel Ings) and Joanna begin to see each other are obvious and comical. He’s the oldest sibling of a large family who loves babies and is ready to settle down. And the fact that Joanna likes him causes conflict between the sisters.

This one-dimensional, throwaway character becomes a large role in the lives of these people who feel like family to us. Thankfully on Season 4, Dan comes across as a decent bloke, albeit a dorky one, which makes me not totally mad that he’s the father. At least he’s not a bonafide boneheaded meninist like Remi.

Sorry, Otis.

The final scene of Jean on Sex Education has her sitting down with Dan to give him the news. I actually think he’ll be thrilled… after the shock wears off, of course.

So, yes, Jean’s baby daddy ends up being a punchline to a joke none of us were privy to. And it so easily could’ve been a bad joke if it wasn’t for Jean’s character development throughout the season and the attention and seriousness given to Jackson’s story.

I wish Jackson had a better outcome in finding his father, but it’s nice to know Joy won’t have to go through something similar.

Rest in Peace

For a “comedy,” Sex Education packs a powerful emotional punch, and this season, the drama is unrelenting with heavy plotlines about abuse and depression, and the one that hits the hardest is Maeve’s. 

Tragedy strikes on Sex Education Season 4 Episode 4 when it’s learned that Maeve’s mum has died, and it upsets the trajectory of several storylines, leading to even more drama. Honestly, the waterworks start here for me and don’t let up until the end credits roll on the final episode.

And that’s due, in large part, to Emma Mackey’s incredible performance of Maeve dealing with the death of her mother. It gives her a lot to work with and not one choice is wasted. The range of emotions Maeve goes through, the highs and lows, her erratic response to grief, are so compelling to watch through Mackey’s brilliant portrayal. 

I can’t believe it takes until the penultimate episode of the series to get Maeve and Jean in a proper scene together — and we thought Otis and Maeve was a slow burn — but it is worth the wait. 

Theirs is a beautifully moving scene and one of the best of the whole series. Jean gives Maeve maternal support that she’s never had just when she needs it the most. Both Maeve’s vulnerability and Jean’s tenderness is felt through the screen in such a palpable way that I feel a little bit healed by the end of it, too.

Aimee’s Healing Journey

When talking about moving emotional arcs on Sex Education, one cannot leave out Aimee Gibbs, played by the boldly talented Aimee Lou Wood. This precious sunbeam of a character has grown so much and her Season 4 story honors that journey remarkably well.  

With help from Isaac, Aimee continues to work through her trauma from the assault on Season 2 via art therapy. I absolutely love everything about this development from her early attempts — “Melon,” you will always be famous — to finding her voice through self-portraiture. 

Isaac’s encouragement and support is so utterly heartwarming, and in sharp contrast to the prickly approach Maeve’s professor (Daniel Levy) uses.

Aimee: I still don’t know what I want to say with my photos.
Isaac: Aimee, you literally never stop talking, so you’ve got plenty to say. Stop underestimating yourself.

The two bond as friends first and it develops into something more — into the sweetest love story the series has seen in all four seasons. Aimee and Isaac become my favorite couple on Sex Education in the final hour, surpassing even the main ship of Otis and Maeve.

To see Aimee heal and thrive would’ve been enough for me, but her finding love in Isaac as well is icing on the cake. Or the squirrel cupcake, I should say. 

Embracing art therapy leads to Aimee learning a lot about abuse and trauma, and she is able to use that knowledge to help others. She recognizes that Beau’s behavior with Viv is abusive, and is able to help her through it.

Aimee: Love should make you feel safe. It should make you feel braver because you can be totally yourself around that person. It shouldn’t be confusing, and it shouldn’t be scary. 

This is A+ advice, and Aimee imparts it to Viv empathetically and eloquently. Maybe she could be an art therapist because she would be excellent at it and would help so many people. 

In Eric We Trust

Eric’s Season 4 journey is truly enlightening. He’s coming further and further into his own and it is a joy to watch.

However, it is heavily focused on faith. As someone who is anti-religion, it comes as a pleasant shock that I can actually get behind the message. It’s a testament to the crafting of Eric Effiong by the writers, and especially Ncuti Gatwa, who brings the character so vibrantly to life.

On Sex Education Season 1, Eric is assaulted and his bright light is dimmed. Thankfully, he gets it back and is shining once again by the end of the season. In that context, Eric’s arc on Season 4 makes even more sense.

He’s so conflicted about how he fits into his church community — how can he be true to God when he has to hide his true self in the process? This is a devastating predicament for many queer people who have grown up with religious faith, like Eric’s new Cavendish bestie, Abbi (Anthony Lexa).

It’s amazing that these two find each other, fated even. Eric saves Abbi from getting run over by Ruby and she starts to call him “Savior.” Then when these dreams and signs send him into an existential crisis, Abbi is there to help him sort through it.

That light that we saw within Season 1 Eric is bursting at the seams now, he just isn’t sure what to do with it or where to direct it.

Enter God. 

The path laid out before him hinted at along the way by this glorious Nigerian goddess, played by Jodie Turner-Smith, is yet another unexpected storyline that ends up working profoundly well. The signs connect him to the soup kitchen, to Adam who has learned to accept himself because of his relationship with Eric, and, most importantly, to Cal. 

What a wonderful turn of events to go from Eric having doubts about being baptized, to the soup kitchen losing funding and then not accepting Cavendish’s charity, to the school raising money for Cal’s top surgery. Eric being the one to find Cal and knowing instinctively how to help them is extremely moving. 

God: I made you this bright so that others would see in the darkness. 

This whole arc and Gatwa’s tremendous embodiment of Eric Effiong really does feel like a religious experience, which says a lot coming from an atheist who did nine years of Catholic school. I’m one hundred percent behind Pastor Effiong. God is right, he will change hearts and minds and make the world a better place. 

It’s hard to say goodbye to characters as epic as Eric, as iconic as Jean Milburn, and as precious as Aimee, but this farewell season leaves us with good feelings all around. These characters will go on to do amazing things and it has been such a pleasure to watch them grow, heal, succeed, and support each other through challenges and triumphs. 

Extra Credit:

• I love all the references to past seasons: Remi’s toxic book, the Groff men and Viagra, and Aimee’s ham. Even Harriet Anders (Hannah Boyce) reappears and has a positive interaction with the reformed mean girl. 
• Ruby really called into Sexology and was like, “That’s not the truth, Ellen.” Love it.
• Hannah freaking Waddingham!
• Hannah freaking Gadsby!
• Every scene with Gillian Anderson and Hannah Gadsby is absolute gold. What a fantastic casting addition for Season 4.
• I need to know why Celia always refers to “Terry” in quotations. It’s such a funny little throwaway bit. 
• Joy’s future eyebrows are already on fleek but she’ll probably also be plagued with toes that are all the same length.
• Low key needing a spin off of the celebrant. 
• It does not go unnoticed that the horn dog art teacher has number 69 at the auction.
• Glad they took my suggestion and made the finale episode 85 minutes instead of rushing to wrap up poorly structured plots like on Season 3.

What did you think of Sex Education Season 4? Share your thoughts in the comments below!

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Sex Education Seasons 1-4 are now streaming on Netflix.

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