At the beginning of this year, I found myself suckered into watching a TV show I wasn’t exactly expecting to enjoy – I can’t say a teenage comedy drama about the sex lives of students in a very Americanised and politically correct take on a British school seemed like my cup of tea – but at the behest of my nagging friends I decided to give it a shot, and boy was I taken by surprise. Sex Education proved to be effortlessly hilarious, consistently engaging and uniquely moving all at the same time, so to close out the year I thought I’d shine a light on this underrated little surprise.

Spoilers ahead!

Taking place in the fictional Moordale Secondary School, right away you’ll notice that Sex Education‘s take on British schooling doesn’t exactly adhere to the norm – it’d be hard not to mistake the series as being set in the United States, but the characters and the setting is explicitly 100% British, in spite of the many American cultural staples weaved into the aesthetic of the series. I’m not entirely sure to what end this was done, but it gives the series an unmistakable sense of identity when paired with its vibrant colours, fantastic cinematography and hit soundtrack. The show primarily follows the day to day life of Otis Milburn (Asa Butterfield), an awkward sixth form student who struggles with romantic and sexual relationships, in spite of his mother, Jean (Gillian Anderson) being a sex and relationship therapist. At the beginning of the season, Otis is practically inseparable from his best friend Eric Effiong (Ncuti Gatwa), the gay son of devoutly Christian Nigerian immigrants, as they both lament their lack of sexual experience at an age where many of their peers are seemingly flourishing in their sexual relationships. That is, until Otis discovers his inherited talent for sex therapy, and goes into business with Maeve Wiley (Emma Mackey), a quick-thinking loner from a disadvantaged background, as the pair offer sex and relationship advice to their peers in exchange for money.

The therapy plotlines are ultimately the heart of Sex Education, offering hilariously awkward insights into the sex lives of teenagers (that at my age, feel all too real), but also proving to be the best examinations of its many fantastically written characters – all with their own insecurities that really serve to bring them to life. I don’t think it’d be amiss to say that this is a “woke” series, with explorations of many types of people, cultures and relationships, and while it can play into and exaggerate some stereotypes, Sex Education actually manages to maintain a sense of authenticity to it, which can be very rare for media that touches on these issues. Otis’ exploration of others’ hang-ups also helps him to understand his own aversion to intimacy, caused by the nonchalant attitude of his parents towards sex, and he also navigates his first experiences with romance as he falls for Maeve; causing strife in his friendship with Eric and raising questions of his morality when he offers relationship advice to Maeve’s love interest behind her back. The plot is ceaselessly enjoyable and the characters really do make the show – not just the teenagers, but their equally inimitable parents and teachers too – which is only aided by the all around incredible performances of the show’s cast.

As you can probably tell, this is a little more concise than my usual review format, and as such I won’t be giving Sex Education‘s premiere season a score, but as a little something to close out the year, I wholeheartedly recommend you watch it! It’ll make you laugh, it might even make you cry, and at times it will most certainly make you blush, and if you still find yourself unsure of whether or not it’s the kind of thing you’d like, from one doubter to another – I promise you won’t regret. With all that said, I’ll end this off with a goodbye and a Happy New Year from me, and I only hope you’ll join me as I step up my writing going into 2020.