Sex Education: Season 4 Review IGN

The following is a non-spoiler review for all eight episodes of Sex Education Season 4, which streams on Netflix beginning September 21.

The Sex Education gang returns – well, most of them – for a bittersweet, rewarding fourth and final season filled with farce, folly, empathy, and poignancy. Of course, if you've followed Netflix’s teen sex romp this entire time you know the drill: Just about everyone is going to be the stupidest and most stubborn version of themselves until they learn a lesson, at which point the show, shucking its own tone, will make you cry.

Everyone has a cellphone but plot will dictate that they don't know how to use them to communicate properly, providing us with mass misunderstandings and ample aggravation. But – hang on! – the ensemble is so lovable that you’ll overlook the frustrating parts and stick with it until the series leaves you with, more often than not, glowing, beautiful closure. The small miracle of Sex Education is that it can be a cringe-comedy circus until it levels you with its pureness of heart and thoughtful inclusivity. The root of the series is people dealing with trauma and loneliness so whenever the dust settles on the absurdity – of which there is plenty – you'll always find a deeper, compassionate resolution.

Getting this out of the way up top: Patricia Allison, Mikael Persbrandt, and Tanya Reynolds aren't back for season 4. That's Ola, her father Jakob, and Lily. Which is both easily explainable given how season 3 ended, with the question of baby Joy's paternity, but also a bit of a bummer since it was interesting to explore Otis (Asa Butterfield) and Ola's burgeoning step-sibling relationship. What this means though is Gillian Anderson's Jean has very different, newborn-driven story avenues to explore, including a big one with her flightier younger sister Joanna (Lisa McGrillis). It all works and it actually explores some darker stuff from Jean's past that we may not have gotten otherwise.

Sex Education Final Season Gallery

Given the large cast and our own personal hopes and dreams as fans for their future, there's no way the ending of this series will satisfy all our whims. (It didn't for me, that much I'll admit.) But what is here, both expected and unexpected, is still pretty damn great. Otis and Ola may not to remain as quirky kin but Jean's storyline – being an overwhelmed single mother starting a new radio sex therapist gig – helps enrich Otis' final-season stretch. Sure, he's got tons of Maeve (Emma Mackey) drama, with her being overseas in a writing program and him making every mistake you can make with a long-distance relationship, but just about every aspect of his life is under strain as we learn a lot more about how Jean's nature, and mental instability, has effected Otis' views on relationships. Remember, everything that starts as a teen-movie cliché wraps itself up nicely with a bow of admittance, acceptance, and healing.

Since the show never abandons its original premise even when the characters undergo significant changes, Otis, Eric (future Doctor Who star Ncuti Gatwa) and other notable Moordale students all start at Cavendish College, a student-led higher-learning facility that's free and unprejudiced in all the ways their other (now closed) school was stifling. It comes as a huge shock to the system for our regulars to see everyone be kind, open, and progressive – and Otis gets delivered a second jolt when he discovers Cavendish already has an in-house student sex counselor, O (Thaddea Graham), who's aggressively good at her "job." Meanwhile Eric finds himself in paradise, in a school where he feels supported and emboldened. So much so that he finds his way into the popular clique and begins to have less in common with Otis.

That's only one aspect of Eric's final season growth though. The other half of it is more compelling, as he struggles to truly be himself and true to his soul within his own church community. This is one of the best character stories in season 4 – along with Adam's (Connor Swindells) arc, which is separate from everyone else’s since he chooses not to return to school – because they both deal, as a gay man and a bi man, with self-love and finding a calling that meshes with their heart and mind. If any of the principal characters are given a gratifying wrap-up, it's these two. And with Adam comes his father Michael (Alistair Petrie) as well, as each are crucial to the others' evolution and the breaking of cycles.

There are almost too many characters to get into here, but Aimee (Aimee Lou Wood), Isaac (George Robinson), Jackson (Kedar Williams-Stirling), Viv (Chinenye Ezeudu), Cal (Dua Saleh), and Ruby (Mimi Keene) are also all back and in the mix, each with very different, but also compelling, stories dealing with everything from the serious struggles of a transitioning teen and the manipulation behind abusive relationships to something seemingly more trite and soapy like "Oh, no I've fallen for my best friends' ex!” Everyone is allowed to take their own roads while never feeling like they're off the freeway. Sex Education still cultivates a camaraderie, despite characters not getting along or traveling along separate journeys. There are two big moments, in particular, that act as a "call to arms" of sorts, bringing the ensemble together organically and constructively.

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It's only natural, given the nature of will they/won't they storytelling, for some viewers to be against Otis and Maeve ending up together. Especially when other romantic pairings have been introduced along the way – like Ruby, who's undergone a particularly vulnerable unraveling on the show, and continues to do so this final season. Suffice to say, Sex Education deals with all this and concludes things in a heartfelt manner, though not one that will please all. But also not in a way that will make anyone truly upset. It's a lovely middle ground that feels nice after four seasons of ribald high jinks and carnal bloopers. Schitt's Creek's Dan Levy gets some good recurring moments here as Maeve's writing professor, who acts as both an ally and obstacle to her dreams.

Given that this is the show's last run, it's sort of imperative that we're left being able to imagine, even in a vague sense, everyone's future. Sometimes that means career path, sometimes emotional health, and often times both. As we bid farewell to these quirky kids (and grown-ups) the series does a fine job of imparting that everyone will be okay, even those who remain momentarily unfulfilled. This also includes late-comers Anthony Lexa, Alexandra James, Felix Mufti, and comedian Hannah Gadsby (who plays Jean's new radio station boss). Sex Education maintains both its mirth and wamrth for these final eight episodes, juggling this luminous large cast and, now, spinning them all off into the great unknown.