Jack Whitehall

Classroom antics were too frantic for its own good

The second episode of Jack Whitehall's comedy Bad Education tackled the thorny issue of sex education classes - with decidedly mixed results.

No school comedy would be complete without an excruciating sex education class and Jack Whitehall doesn't disappoint. As hapless history teacher Mr Wickers he wriggles and squirms and clearly yearns to crawl under a desk away from the pitying gaze of his worldly-wise pupils. The only person more immature is the head (Mathew Horne in a hilariously hideous wig) who befuddles his staff and enrages parents with his senseless slang. There hasn't been a sitcom this masterfully puerile since The Inbetweeners.

It's not just the presence of (the slightly underused) Michelle Gomez that has us thinking of Green Wing in relation to this very funny school sitcom. People with serious jobs behaving in ridiculous and irresponsible ways is a comedy staple. And Jack Whitehall and, particularly, the revelatory Mathew Horne have struck gold here. Tonight, sex education is on the agenda as the impending arrival of a horde of carnally voracious French exchange students concentrates the minds of staff and parents alike. But is self-styled 'Sex Yoda' Alfie (Whitehall) quite the man for the job? 'I've been sitting in my room, getting to know my penis,' he announces to a roomful of horrified students. If it didn't feel like damning with faint praise, we'd call this one of the best comedies BBC3 has ever screened.

Two episodes in and already this Green Wing-esque school comedy starring Jack Whitehall as a posh slacker (what else?) is dipping its wick into sex education. The subject is handled amusingly and imaginatively enough - though we still can't decide if we love or hate Mathew Horne's right-on headmaster and his 'groovy banter'.

It's a shame that Jack Whitehall has thrown everything at his own character in Bad Education (BBC3), and more or less forgotten about everyone else. Michelle Gomez, star of Green Wing and such a hilarious physical comic actor, is unforgivably underused. I'd also like to see more of some of the kids who are brilliant - Chantelle the slag, camp Stephen, Grayson the bully (love the way he says "shut up"). That would give it more layers, more depth. It's all Jack's Alfie though. I guess that's what happens when the writer is also the star. Me me me me me.

BUT - and it's a big, upper-case but - Bad Education is still fabulous, a very silly half-hour of anarchic inappropriate joy. With some lovely situations, and some lovely lines. "Make a noise, like a girl having a crap," teacher Alfie orders pupil Joe, cowering in the girls' toilets, when the deputy goes into the next cubicle to empty a confiscated bottle of cider.

Crucially, and probably because it's the creation of one guy, Bad Education has heaps of personality. It may be a flawed baby, but it's Whitehall's baby.

Jack Whitehall interview

"I remember stealing my sister's Spice Girls Club membership card because I thought it was a club you could go to and they'd be there".

Following on from the surprise that Jack Whitehall can actually act (Fresh Meat), we now get the chance to see if he can write in this new BBC Three sitcom, Bad Education. Judging by this opening episode, the jury's out.

Whitehall also stars in Bad Education, as a feckless secondary school teacher, surrounded by a mixture of odd staff and bosses, as well as somewhat cliché students. You can't help but think that Whitehall is trying to cram every minority and stereotypical student into his classroom, ranging from camp, bullies, unfit fat kids, wheelchair-bound, flirtatious, and intellectual oriental.

He seems to have fallen into the trap of making his own character the number one priority, while almost forgetting to flesh out all the others. The headmaster, played by Mathew Horne, comes across as an over-progressive idiot; Whitehall's love intereste (Sarah Solemani) is a bit too innocent; and the stern and frightening deputy head (Michelle Gomez) is like a less surreal - and less funny - version of Sue White from Green Wing.

There were odd moments of mirth, like Whitehall's Pearl Harbour history lesson, but I think the only reason this could possibly get a second series is because of the star name attached to it.

After becoming, for many, an industrial irritant with his standup and presenting, Jack Whitehall is finding things work better when he sticks to his strengths. Like Jude Law before him, Whitehall only really excels when playing an upper class twit and here he gives it his all. This week, sex ed rears its head when the Mumsnet-obsessed parents find the school is running several pretty offensive and inappropriate activities - the faculty's insistence that their Next Top Model competition is open to even "Dove advert-y" types does little to placate matters.

After the first five minutes of Bad Education, right after the ­Abbey Grove School sexpot started flirting with useless teacher Alfie Wickers, I stopped this Jack Whitehall comedy to dig out my DVD of Please Sir!, the 1960s classic where such a scene was played out weekly involving John ­Alderton and Penny Spencer. Sharon Eversleigh! You were ever-present in my double-physics daydreams with your Cremola Foam pout and your wet-look boots. So the rest of Bad Education was going to have to be good, and mostly 
it was.

Mr Wickers is the kind of teacher who gets his trainers nicked by the school bully, forcing him to continue lessons in purple Crocs retrieved from Lost & Found. He'll say things like "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder - that's Shakespeare, Chantelle" and the super-intel­ligent Chinese girl will have to correct him: "It's actually from the Bible, you idiot."

Mathew Horne's headmaster will chime with anyone who ever had to endure a teacher trying to be "down with the kids"; Michelle Gomez is the soor-ploom-faced deputy who's got it in for Mr Wickers. Their scenes together are the best thing about Bad Education. When she burst in on his classroom, everyone asleep including our hero, he desperately tried to rescue the situation thus: 
"...and that is how quiet Anne Frank and her family had to be to evade capture by the Nazis."

Whitehall plays a posh balloon - the kids nickname him 'Downton Abbey' - not unlike 
his character in Fresh Meat. He may only have one trick but it's a good one.