Sex Education’s third season is a mixed bag; it brings the series to new heights with deep re-examinations of its existing characters and its ever-concentrated efforts in pushing the envelope for sex jokes, but it also hits new lows with a noticeable decline in writing across the board. Many characters are left feeling directionless, and the hard-earned charm of the show begins to rub off as it dips into the more exaggerated facets of an insulated liberal worldview.

If you’ve been following my page, you’ll probably know by now I’ve been quite the fan of Netflix’s Sex Education (and if not, you can read my Season 2 review here!); a brilliant comedy surrounding the relationships and sex lives of teenage sixth form students and their eccentric teachers and parents, fit with heaps of heart to it too. Its first two seasons tackled a plethora of complex issues in a surprisingly mature fashion – wholly unbecoming of the modern entertainment industry, and a big reason as to why it felt like such a breath of fresh air. After over a year off the air, Sex Education‘s third season arrived on Netflix yesterday, and I could only hope it would maintain that level of quality I had come to enjoy from the show so far.

Spoilers ahead!

Well, it was certainly off to a good start with Season 3’s purely brilliant opening montage; a laughably dirty affair that also served as an excellent visual aide in reminding us where we left our characters at the end of the last season. Its not hard to tell that Sex Education is built on the back of its eclectic cast, chief among them being our loveably awkward protagonist Otis Milburn (Asa Butterfield), who now enjoys an active sex life, and much like last season, continues to explore the complex world of relationships. However, with a noticeable turn away from the sex therapy storylines, he starts to feel a little underutilised and it reflects poorly on the overall appeal of the show to see it neglect what was once one of its defining storytelling techniques. That said, Otis’ initially secret beau, popular girl Ruby Matthews (Mimi Keene), is finally given a chance to shine this season. There’s more time given to her textbook elitist hilarity, yes, but the addition of a moving backstory and an engaging character arc that sees her overcome her biases and slowly fall for Otis makes her one of Season 3’s standout characters.

The same can be said of Moordale’s former headmaster, Michael Groff (Alistair Petrie), who once the show’s one-note, prudish quasi-antagonist, now receives more of a focus in the story and a more sympathetic characterisation as he is set on a redemption arc that sees him trying to get back in touch with his emotions and reconnect with his family. His son, Adam (Connor Swindells), has had a more drawn out progression in his character than most others throughout the show, but as the conclusion to his arc starts to take shape in Season 3, it becomes one of the most satisfying and effective storylines the series has to offer, as he learns to embrace life on his own terms. Another character who’s development becomes clearer is that of the series co-lead; the rebellious Maeve Wiley (Emma Mackey). Feeling spread a little thin last season, I can’t say that feeling didn’t spill over into Season 3 somewhat, but as the story continues the writers trim the fat and it reaches a bittersweet conclusion that sees her chasing her academic aspirations at the cost of becoming continentally separated from Otis right as their feelings for one another come out into the open.

There’s no question that Sex Education Season 3 has a lot of solid story material to offer, but that’s not to say it’s perfect – far from it, in fact. Many of the characters from previous seasons have clearly been left with little else to do, and as such the writers decided to try their best to bundle them into an absurd storyline that sees the school’s students facing off against their stern new headmistress, Hope Haddon (Jemima Kirke), who has been brought in to try and turn around the school’s reputation for poor sexual health. She strips away the school’s identity piece by piece (funnily enough making it look more like an actual British school), and it culminates in the students banding together and embracing the “Sex School” moniker in an eyewateringly cringe penultimate episode centred on this ridiculous “uprising” subplot. It’s not as if the writers didn’t have it in them to utilise plot to accommodate for the more sidelined characters either – the France trip is one of the series’ best storylines yet; re-evaluating many of the existing dynamics and relationships as characters are forced into unexpected pairings and gives the lesser-explored characters more of a spotlight too – not to mention it’s ceaselessly hilarious throughout!

One of my biggest praises for Sex Education‘s previous seasons was in how it tackled social and identity-based issues with a surprisingly level head, but I’m sad to say that this ethos has clearly gone out the window come Season 3. This is perhaps manifested entirely in the addition of new character Cal Bowman (Dua Saleh), a rebellious, non-binary, black teenager from Minneapolis, USA (I wonder what current day events may have brought about that idea), who proves to be instrumental in challenging the authority and biases of Headmistress Haddon. The writing across the season is dripping in a political slant as it rams full throttle into the world of left-wing stereotypes and strawmen, and it becomes just as tiring to endure as the million other lectures dressed in the guise of entertainment you can find being released these days. It even purveys the existing material of the show, in one case reimagining the once friendly and helpful Jakob (Mikael Persbrandt) as some kind of walking stereotype of toxic masculinity; pitting him against Jean (Gillian Anderson) as they prepare for the arrival of their child together.

I can’t deny that the quality of writing this season has taken a noticeable decline; chipped away by small little nags like clunky dialogue and underappreciated characters, and then cut down to a not-insignificant low by some of the most egregious issues in the script too. With that said however, just enough of that Sex Education magic remains to keep it above the water, thanks in large part to some elements of this season that bordered on exceptional. The ending somewhat conspicuously leaves it at a point that could be considered a definitive conclusion if needs be, but the door is certainly left open for more of Otis and his peers, and assuming the show remains as popular as it is, I’m sure this isn’t the last we’ve seen of Sex Education.

5/10