How had I not heard of this show? Had I heard of it, then forgotten? Questions plagued me as I caught up on two series of this week’s underrated gem. In my defence, G’wed is an esoteric title. I assumed it was the name of a person, place or ancient story, possibly borrowed from Celtic mythology. Turns out it’s scouse for “go ahead”.

Reviewers that saw previous series of the adolescent comedy noted its similarities to The Inbetweeners. A middle-class boy, Christopher, is forced to “slum it” with working-class lads, including his nemesis neighbour, Reece, at a new secondary school in Liverpool. Immature antics ensue, alongside merciless teasing and finally acceptance. Hearts are warmed, knob jokes hammered. The difference was, this show kept talking about grief, and had more to say about class than does your average fish-out-of-water premise.

Unlike The Inbetweeners, the central friendship group is comfortably mixed in gender, race and sexuality. Yet the show has an allergy to woke pieties or patronising assumptions. Instead, we got storylines about PIP assessments, male anorexia and, in this new series, the corporate suffocation of the Premier League. There were swings into subjects a 30-minute broad comedy can’t comfortably hold, such as grey areas around consent, harm-related OCD and a mask-wearing digital vigilante known as “Ye Ma”. One had to admire the intent, even when storylines were quickly dropped so wank gags could recommence.

In its third season, the show expands its palette again. This time around, there is a Mamma Mia-style paternity mystery (but lap dance-based), an adulterous bedroom farce in a hotel and a pastiche of reality dance shows that will genuinely have you weeping. That’s before a series finale that raises the bar like Sylvester Stallone.

There are strong actors in the G’wed mix – particularly Leanne Best as Reece’s single mum, Jodie. In a previous series, we were able to infer her entire relationship with an off-screen sister from a single phone call regarding her nephew and his “bad influence, scumbag, thieving, feral, awful, dirty mates”. Best puts so much extra sauce on this litany of pejoratives, Burger King would raise an eyebrow. She’s a bracingly sarcastic parent, roasting Reece and his peers – but there’s no doubting the strength of their bond, and their scenes together are almost unbearably lovely.

Newcomer Jake Kenny-Byrne, as orphaned “posh muppet” Christopher, brings out much of the show’s heart. His sensitive performance accesses a deeper register, one of loneliness and fragile hope. He has a compelling face, a cross between Miles Teller and Benny Safdie. (I kept wondering if Josh Safdie might pop by, perhaps to direct an episode subplot about a school badminton tournament that would spike my cortisol for three days.)

The new series enjoys subverting “lost daddy” tropes. A former one-night stand of Jodie’s, Disneyland Darren, returns to their lives, determined to be the father figure Reece lacks. He’s an intense, over-sexualised Mancunian, whose driving lessons amount to maintaining the beginnings of an erection, in case an opportunity for intercourse presents itself on the journey. “You don’t drive and you’re not my dad. You’re just some little weirdo who won’t piss off,” Reece responds, possibly deflating it.

G’wed is not perfect. It leans on “only kidding” punchlines and there are some tonal lurches. But you know what? I watch a lot of TV. I know how much effort goes into unifying the tone of a show so that each episode feels part of the whole, unlikely to trip up an audience. And while smoothness is comforting, a lot of TV is also … a bit boring. I’ll take ideas over polish. If ambition outreaches achievement, it has still taken us further.

Those wanting a re-heated Inbetweeners will be disappointed: this show is its own beast. Expect inconsistency. Expect tears to come more reliably than laughs. The laughs are there. Expect filth. If that sounds like I’m telling you not to watch it, the opposite is true. At the risk of sounding like a copywriter for a brand of breakfast bar: why not break your routine with a shot of real energy? Go ahead!