When Netflix released “Sex Education” almost a year ago there was little fanfare beforehand. Sure, critics had gone gaga over Laurie Nunn‘s showrunning debut, but from the outset, it was a bit hard to differentiate from all the other teen programs populating the streaming service. The concept was cute though. A British teenage boy, Otis (Asa Butterfield), becomes the de facto sex education counselor for his classmates at a rural England secondary school (high school in North America). But compared to another recent Netflix series released around the same time, “The End of the F**king World,” every other teen show seemed frighteningly familiar. Except, it turned out “Sex Education” had a rather unique voice. The characters had depth, Gillian Anderson stole every scene she was in as Otis’ sex therapist mother and despite the often over-the-top moments it all felt rather, well, grounded. We’re happy to report, Nunn and her almost entirely female writing staff have somehow topped themselves with the show’s second eight-episode season.
The series returns with Otis still dating Ola (Patricia Allison) and the awkwardness of both their respective parents, Dr. Jean Milburn (Anderson) and Jakob (Mikael Persbrandt), also seeing each other. Maeve (Emma Mackey) still has unrequited feelings for Otis and his best friend, Eric (Ncuti Gatwa) might not be over his unexpected fling with Adam (Connor Swindells), who was shipped off to military school against his wishes. Oh, but there is an orgy full of new obstacles and characters to come.
The first episode begins with Otis uncontrollably, um, masturbating in a montage set to a wonderfully on-point choir version of The Divinyls’ “I Touch My Self”. Almost everything he encounters makes him get aroused, but when he wants to hook up with Ola, he shockingly can’t perform. The latter is a narrative beat you see coming a mile away, but the series constantly surprises with how far it’s willing to go in dealing with sexuality. And, comedically, boy does it goes there. From a Chlamydia outbreak scare to gay boyfriends learning how to douche to an alien-themed musical version of “Romeo and Juliet” that is so outrageous you wish you could see the full production, this show simply has no fear. And that includes how it tackles the real-life drama as well.
One of the most impressive storylines involves Aimee (Aimee Lou Wood), a former member of the “popular” girls clique who realized she needed real friends like the socially shafted Maeve in the series’ first go around. Early on in the second season, she is sexually assaulted in a public setting. How the show depicts Aimee reacting to the event when it first takes place and in the weeks (episodes) that follow is simply superb. There is a sensitivity and intelligence in how the show tackles her violation that still fits in the world Nunn and her cohorts have crafted. The writers clearly care about the show’s characters and treat them with respect, not just as a means to further the narrative. In that context, the marvel of “Sex Education” isn’t just how well Nunn and her team balance the often outrageous comedy and drama, but how they juggle so many compelling storylines at once. Take for instance a seemingly minor character last season, Adam.
The son of the school’s cold-hearted headmaster (Alistair Petrie), Adam has gone from bullying douchebag to having, arguably the most transformative arc of the new season. It’s a heartbreaker and Swindells’ masterfully subtle performance deserves immense praise for taking the show to another level. Emotional highs and lows are commonplace on “Sex Education,” but Swindells finds a way for you to be empathetic to Adam’s immense pain even if you detested him in the first season.
Nunn and her writing team also provide more depth and nuance to a number of other characters including Eric who has a new boyfriend in French transfer student Rahim (Sami Outalbali), champion swimmer Jackson (Kedar Williams-Stirling) who finds an unexpected new passion and newcomer Vivian (Chinenye Ezeudu) who comes out of a not-so unbreakable shell. The centerpiece of the series, of course, are still Otis and Maeve and remarkably, their seemingly inevitable but oh, so far away romance doesn’t feel played out (not yet anyway).
Otis is much more confident this season. He was serious about ditching the underground sex counselor gig but when his mother is recruited for a position on campus his competitive nature kicks in and he’s back at it. Partnering with Maeve once more he counsels his peers and even one of his teachers. That being said, that particular aspect of the show feels more secondary this time around. This year Otis is forced to deal with his feelings about his divorced parents and a love triangle we’re not sure he ever realized existed.
Maeve, on the other hand, has much more serious problems in front of her. She’s confronted with the return of her mother, who abandoned her for a recovery program the year prior, and a now toddler age half-sister. Maeve is now skeptically looking out for her mother and often at the expense of herself (including her commitment to the school debate club team). Other complications include a new meddling neighbor, Isaac (George Robinson), who, despite his witty demeanor, may not have the most sincere intentions.
Beyond the cast’s fantastic chemistry and scripts sharp as a tack, “Sex Education” benefits from some wonderful direction from regulars Ben Taylor, Sophie Goodhart, and Alice Seabright. Sure, the series never met a dutch angle it didn’t love, but the perspective is always spot-on and more often than not, beautifully shot. A wide range of pre-1990 tracks such as Salt-N-Pepa’s “Push It” or the school’s acapella club covering Jermaine Stewart’s “We Don’t Have to Take Our Clothes Off” often give the show an ’80s teen movie vibe at times, but somehow the mix works.
Like most teen genre shows, however, the parent’s problems feel minor to those of their offspring and their storylines can be a bit too drawn out. “Sex Education” easily overcomes that minor quibble because Nunn and her cast have created a universe of characters that you inherently want to root for. And it’s so entertaining that after eight almost-hour long episodes it somehow feels like a quickie. And, yes, that’s a compliment. [A-]
