overnights

Sex Education Recap: I’m Not Laughing

Sex Education

Episode 4
Season 4 Episode 4
Editor’s Rating 4 stars

Sex Education

Episode 4
Season 4 Episode 4
Editor’s Rating 4 stars
Photo: Netflix/Samuel Taylor/Netflix

Sex Education is one of the most fun shows on TV, but it has never shied away from tough subjects. Over these four seasons, we’ve witnessed bullying, slut-shaming, sexual assault, and more public humiliation than I can count. But until now, the series has never dived deep into the subjects of death and grieving. So when Erin Wiley dies partway through “Episode Four,” it’s not necessarily a shock — we knew the overdose was serious, and this is the final season — but it does feel like new territory. How do you grieve somebody who was never around as much as she should’ve been? How do you begin to process that complicated medley of emotions?

Maeve Wiley has often been our window into issues the other characters never have to deal with; after her dad left and her mom was arrested for drug dealing, she was raised (on and off) by her older brother, Sean, in a trailer park. While Otis had Jean, Maeve had no one. She always had to fend for herself, especially after Sean left. Maeve loves her mother, but their relationship is more fraught than the typical mother-daughter relationship on this show. It’s hard to put into words exactly what losing Erin means.

So it makes sense that the most refreshing aspect of this episode is the unexpected rhythm of its emotional beats. When Maeve goes to the hospital with Sean and finds out their mother died, her first instinct isn’t to cry, nor is it to fall into Aimee and Otis’s arms just outside. What she chooses, instead, is to take some time, retreating into the crossword-puzzle book she found in the waiting room. She stays there for a long time — long after Sean comes back out to confirm that it is indeed their mom and that she is indeed dead. She’s not ready to leave this room, not ready to truly face reality, because she knows that the moment she sees her friends, it will all be set in stone and nothing will ever be the same. Living for a while in this puzzle allows her a merciful delay of the feelings she’ll eventually need to feel, and it’s therapeutic to have a concrete task in front of her to complete.

I appreciate that “Episode Four” doesn’t completely pause the various ongoing plots of the show, even when it comes to the love triangles. While Otis and Aimee hang out and wait for Maeve, they obliquely discuss her friendship with Isaac, for whom she clearly has feelings. He suggests she tell Maeve how she feels since it’ll be worse if she later finds out something happened between her best friend and her ex. That ties back to Otis’s own concern about what happened with Ruby last night, even if nothing actually happened.

While all this is happening, Ruby is still dealing with her lingering feelings for Otis. Our time at Cavendish is limited to her perspective in this episode, and we see that Otis’s clients are flocking to O’s office in his absence. With a debate coming up, Ruby chews O out a little, promising to make her life a living hell. But O is the one who “wins” the interaction, successfully identifying the exact state of Ruby’s feelings for Otis: “You’re hoping that one day he will see the light and realize that you’re the person who’s always known how special he is, and he’ll turn around and say that he loves you as much as you’ve always loved him.” She points out what Ruby already knows deep down: If someone really likes her, they won’t play games.

But it all comes back to Otis, Maeve, and Aimee, three people who deeply care about one another. I should mention that Emma Mackey kills it this whole episode, letting us see her internal conflict at every moment. The desperate, grateful way she reaches for Otis’s hand after he rubs her arm from the back seat is especially affecting, especially after the feigned casualness of “Mum died, so …” As the three settle down to sleep over at Anna’s house, it’s easy to momentarily pretend that nothing happened; there’s even an amusing exchange about Aimee eating a Peperami before bed. But there’s a deep well of feeling beneath every quiet moment.

There’s a lot of emotion in the story of Michael Groff too, even if his performance-anxiety story line seems more comedic than dramatic at first. Gloria knows exactly what she wants and has no patience at all for his inability to get it up. He tries a Viagra and a pep talk in the mirror to reinvigorate his sexual confidence, but it only briefly works; he loses his erection once again, clearly suffering from something psychological.

When Michael calls into Jean’s show to vent about not feeling like a real man, she and temporary co-host O help him realize the problem: He’s just someone who performs best with a secure emotional connection, something he currently lacks. He still loves his wife, Maureen, and those ties keep him from comfortably having sex with any other woman. We can tell from the look on Maureen’s face as she listens that she misses her husband too, even if those lingering feelings haven’t kept her from pursuing fulfilling sexual relationships elsewhere. Her arrival at his house to kiss him is a beautiful moment, especially placed where it is in the heightened emotional atmosphere of this episode.

It’s also a great choice to bring other established characters into Jean’s story line. For too much of these first three episodes, she’s been stranded in her own world, juggling her baby and her son and her sister and a new job. But it’s tremendously beneficial to finally ground that story in the larger ecosystem of the show, which helps distract from Jakob’s glaring absence. Jean has a long history with Michael, for example, and hearing her give him advice connects back to the advice in season three that helped push Michael along in this self-improvement journey.

Making O part of Jean’s radio show is brilliant too. Not only does their generational divide make for a better program, but it’s a smart idea for the series itself, especially for how it pulls in both Otis’s close relationship with his mom and his rivalry with O. Even Joanna is more enjoyable in “Episode Four,” though I’m still impatient for the inevitable reveal of Joy’s parentage. Joanna’s date with Dan, where he meets the baby, just feels like obvious foreshadowing. He wants to settle down and start a family! That’s his kid! It has to be.

If anyone, it’s Eric whose story feels the most like connective tissue here, an unfinished transition to the next phase of his arc. He seems to be getting messages from God, based on the Bible he finds standing up on the road, the consecutive shots of bird shit to the head, and the homeless woman who roughly demands his help in finding the soup kitchen run by his church. It’s nice to see Abbi reconnect with her faith, joining Eric when his mom requests his help, but the church may be on borrowed time. Will Eric fight to save a community that has caused him so much internal conflict?

“Internal conflict” is present for pretty much everyone at this halfway point in the final season, and with only four episodes to go, we’re really starting to cook with gas.

All the Good Things and the Bad Things That May Be

• “It’s not an appropriate place to whistle.”

• This episode mostly gives us a break from the developing Otis-and-Eric conflict, but I did enjoy Eric flipping off Otis’s house after Otis stood him up.

• It turns out Aisha and PK are ethically non-monogamous, and Aisha does want to go on a date with Cal.

• And speaking of Aisha and PK, it seems like they might have something negative to say about O, based on how quickly Abbi shuts down Ruby’s line of questioning.

• Still waiting for Jackson’s results, but his moment with Viv is really sweet — though Beau’s jealous reaction to their hug seems like a potential red flag.

• Adam’s horror when Michael mentions his performance issues is hilarious, but his advice is actually good: “Thinking doesn’t overcome fear. Action does.”

• And hey, Adam can ride a horse now! Happy for him.

• “Hello, Martin.”

Sex Education Recap: I’m Not Laughing