Television Review: “Sex Education,” Season 3 – Growing Up Grand

Amid the political point-scoring, Netflix’s Sex Education remains effervescently charming.

Sex Education, now in its third season, has always been a show that kicks at boundaries, so it should surprise no one that the third season starts off with some bangs (literally — the first episode opens with a montage of people engaged in sexual acts). The series has always been risqué, but season three takes it even further. The upside is that this move toward the more explicit comes with heartfelt, humorous and, at times, informative storytelling.

Season three starts with a new school year at Moordale High. Otis (Asa Butterfield) is having casual sex with the most popular girl in school, Ruby (Mimi Keene), while Eric (Ncuti Gatwa, always a standout) and Adam (Connor Swindells) have become an official couple. Meanwhile, trouble is a-brewing at Moordale, fallout from the staging of a raunchy musical — a reimagined version of Romeo and Juliet (complete with tentacles). The original headmaster of Moordale, Adam’s father, Mr. Groff (Alistair Petrie), has been fired, so a new headmaster is brought in, Ms. Hope Haddon, played by Girls’ Jemima Kirke.

It’s fascinating to see Kirke in such a different role, a complete contrast to her free-spirited character in Girls. The actress is downright frightening here; Kirke plays Hope to snarky perfection, pettily micromanaging and sneering with aplomb. At first, she manages to win over the student body with a song and dance routine, but quickly we see that she has troubling plans for the school. Hope is far more focused on building up Moordale’s brand than on what her students and staff actually need. She quickly introduces uniforms as well as a homophobic and abstinence-only sex education course that denies resources to nonbinary students. A powerful political message is being delivered here, one that demands that secondary schools refuse reactionary policies. The ironically named Hope reflects the cultural dangers posed by sexism, transphobia, and homophobia, prejudices that, unfortunately, still run rampant in America’s schools. (The satire could be seen as part of the growing pushback to the demonization of Critical Race Theory, the near ban on abortion in Texas, and the continued lack of proper sex education given to high school students.)

Even worse, Hope pits Head Boy Jackson (Kedar Williams-Stirling) against Head Girl Vivienne (Chinenye Ezeudu). It’s very frustrating to watch Hope attempt to tear apart what had become a moving friendship, one that blossomed over the course of the last season. Hope also instills fear into her teachers, who are now terrified to answer their students questions about their sexuality. Thankfully, a few teachers rebel and recommend that students go to a local health clinic with their concerns — but it’s absurd that would need to be done in the first place. Real life students, trapped in abstinence-only programs, may find it worth tuning into Sex Education because the series will honestly and accurately answer some of their own burning questions about sex and relationships.

Much of what makes Sex Education distinctive as a series drama is its ability to subvert its viewers’ expectations. Ruby was introduced as a stereotypical mean girl, but she turns out to be vulnerable and caring in her relationship with Otis. Aimee (Aimee Lou Wood), who started off as Maeve’s rather vapid-brained friend, seeks therapy from Otis’s mother, the enchanting Jean (played by the equally enchanting Gillian Anderson), regarding a sexual assault she experienced in the previous season. The sessions encourage Aimee to embrace who she truly is and she learns to become more independent. Adam, who began as the bully of the series, has become more comfortable with his own sexuality and even pursues additional help to improve his academics. As the episodes go on, each of the characters is becoming increasingly complex, which makes the world of Sex Education more involving. Even Jean, who is now pregnant with her former boyfriend’s child, grows substantially in the third season.

Despite moving into more melodramatic plot realms, Sex Education remains as funny as it was in its first season. There are plenty of amusing moments: Aimee and her boyfriend procure a goat and bring said animal to school; Eric dancing and singing when he learns that he is about to have sex with his boyfriend. Amid the political point-scoring, Sex Education remains effervescently charming, an appeal that will continue, even deepen, with the hoped-for arrival of a fourth season.


Sarah Mina Osman is a writer residing in Wilmington, North Carolina. In addition to writing for The Arts Fuse, she has written for Watercooler HQThe Huffington PostHelloGigglesYoung Hollywood, and Matador Network, among other sites. Her work was included in the anthology Fury: Women’s Lived Experiences in the Trump Era. She is currently a first year fiction MFA candidate at the University of North Carolina Wilmington. When she’s not writing, she’s dancing, watching movies, traveling, or eating. She has a deep appreciation for sloths and tacos. You can keep up with her on Twitter and Instagram: @SarahMinaOsman

Source: Television Review: “Sex Education,” Season 3 – Growing Up Grand – The Arts Fuse

Sex Education: Otis’ New Season 3 Look Hints At His Maeve Issue

BY ANA DUMARAOG

Otis’ (Asa Butterfield) new look in Sex Education season 3 hints at his ongoing problems with Maeve (Emma Mackey). Netflix’s British coming-of-age story is nearing its return [September 17]  with fresh episodes. To drive-up hype, the streaming giant has released promotional stills from the show — some of them offering clues as to what to expect from Sex Education season 3. 

Debuting in 2019, Sex Education quickly became one of the biggest shows for the streaming service based on reports. So, it’s not surprising when it didn’t take long before it returned for its sophomore year in 2020. Chronicling the lives of the students and staff at Moordale Secondary School, the series’ primary focus has always been on its main lead, Otis, and his relationships, particularly with his best friend, Eric (Ncuti Gatwa) and his crush, Maeve. The trio first got together after deciding to run an underground sex therapy business at school. As the storytelling progressed, each of them started exploring their respective and collective arcs. For Otis, that meant navigating his own sexual issues, not to mention his growing attraction to Maeve.

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How ‘Sex Education’ Star Asa Butterfield’s Therapist Mom Helped Him Prepare for His Role

For his role as amateur sex therapist, the charming star of Netflix’s hit teen sex comedy found a valuable resource close to home.

When it premiered on Netflix in 2018, “Sex Education” immediately resonated with audiences for its clever comedy, sex positive message, heart-wrenching romance, and exceedingly likable and relatable characters. While the show’s second season expanded the ensemble to ever more colorful characters, the heart and soul of “Sex Education” will always be fumblingly sweet, sometimes self-involved, but generally kindhearted Otis Milburn. Played to charismatic teenage boy perfection by Asa Butterfield, Otis is the epitome of boy next door charm coursing with a gentle current of hormonal teenage angst. There’s no question why both Maeve (Emma Mackey) and Ola (Patricia Allison) are in love with him, and why he has the coolest best friend in town (Ncuti Gatwa’s Eric) — Otis is, to put it plainly, a total peach.

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How Netflix’s ‘Sex Education’ Subverts Teen-Movie Tropes

Netflix' Sex Education
Netflix’ Sex Education

Late in the second season of Netflix’s Sex Education comes a scene familiar from multiple teen movies: the ritualistic dissemination of a person’s private notebook, weaponized to cause maximum chaos. You might remember this exact scenario from Mean Girls, when Regina George papered her high school with xeroxed pages of the same Burn Book she’d helped create, sparking a fracas of hysteria and recrimination. Or from the end of Cruel Intentions, when a journal is handed out in bound copies at Kathryn Merteuil’s brother’s funeral, sealing her downfall.

The setup is enough of a trope to feel hackneyed, until you realize how Sex Education is subverting it. The person doling out secrets in hope of causing chaos isn’t a teenage girl looking for revenge, but a middle-aged man grasping at the last vestiges of his waning power.

When Sex Education debuted early in 2019, it felt like a delightfully earnest (and anglicized) patchwork of teen classics: the raunch comedy of American Pie, the small-town romanticism of Stranger Things, and the British oddball kids of Skins and The End of the F***ing World, with the sweet sex-positivity of Big Mouth thrown in for good measure.

The show seems to exist in a parallel universe that’s both our own (there are cellphones and STI outbreaks and horny teenagers) and entirely alien (no one ever goes on social media, every store in the mall is a small business, the action takes place in an idyllic English community where it never, ever rains).

Source: How Netflix’s ‘Sex Education’ Subverts Teen-Movie Tropes – The Atlantic