Review: Sex Education Season 3 – Raunchy Moordale Reprises its Beloved Role
Sex Education is back. In the truly horny, ridiculous, style which we know and love. Mere seconds into the first episode we are thrown into the classic sex-montage that we’ve grown alarmingly accustomed to…and all I can do, as I sit there watching with none other than my mother, ladies and gentlemen, is breathe a sigh of relief. Eighteen months is too long to go without visiting the timeless, legendary town that is Moordale.
I’ve missed Eric Effiong. I’ve missed Lily and her aliens. Much has changed: Jean Milburn is pregnant, Otis is having casual sex with Ruby, the most popular girl in school (as Eric squeals upon hearing the news- “I’m so proud of you!”), and Moordale has a new headteacher, who simply goes by “Hope” (how very modern eh?). At the end of the first episode when we witness the iconic derelict toilets that originally housed the sex-clinic, dramatically demolished by a bulldozer; we know it’s going to be a bumpy ride.
The absurdity is certainly ramped up this season, with flying faeces catapulting from one vehicle to another as goats provide modesty for naked students cavorting around the school grounds. However, the writers on Sex Education are excellent – there’s no denying it; the characters develop like a sourdough starter in a jar (I can only apologise for the lockdown reference), and it’s an utter joy to watch the growth, most notably this season, of Adam and Michael Groff.
The intense masculinity of the uncannily similar looking father and son duo is stretched, warmed, and diluted, as their characters grow and flourish, at their own pace. Despite a fracture in their relationship caused by past disagreements and exacerbated by divorce, there is hope that in the recently confirmed season 4, they will continue to open up and grow as a pair.
Michael Groff’s storyline is particularly heart-breaking, pretending to go to work every day, while living with his rich, successful, and judgemental brother (a glorious cameo from Jason Isaacs). Despite my blurry vision caused by Michael Groff related tears, his plotline highlights the show’s ability to interrogate what we don’t often see on screen, including masculine humiliation and the intense vulnerability that comes with that.
The show continues to be “one of the gayest shows” on Netflix, its representation ever-expanding, with non-binary student Cal (portrayed by Dua Saleh) entering the ensemble cast, bringing overdue and much needed representation to the non-binary community. The focus of the plot has moved away from Otis and his tight-knit crew, the writers breathing life into the ensemble cast, fleshing out their characters, which other high school films and TV shows often struggle to do. The show is hyper-aware of, and pokes fun at high school movie tropes, while simultaneously flipping these stereotypes on their head (much like Olivia Wilde’s Booksmart). We glimpse the tricky home-life of ‘queen bee’ Ruby and delve further into the intricacies of Eric’s inner conflict regarding his heritage and sexuality, further distancing him from the two-dimensional “gay best friend” stereotype we so often see.
While the voicemail saga between Otis and Maeve is slightly drawn out and contrived, Season 3 excels in showcasing what the show does best, shining light on stigmatised topics surrounding adolescent sex and identity in a jovial way, while expanding its representation. It remains one of the most heartfelt ‘teen’ shows on tv at the moment. Finally, let’s give it up for Mr Hendricks – a standout character, who deserves more love. Roll on season 4!
(Image Credit: Netflix/Games Radar)
