Adolescence. Has growing up ever been this perilous?
This four-episode British miniseries, released on Netflix last April, has garnered considerable attention and success. It tells the story of Jamie Miller, a 13-year-old boy who is arrested on charges of murdering a schoolmate, Katie. At first glance it may seem like yet another crime series, but the investigative plot is soon set aside because the goal of the show is not to solve a case—the culprit is known from the very beginning—but to examine the reasons behind an adolescent’s action and to situate them within the social and cultural context in which he lives. In which we live.
Creators Jack Thorne and Stephen Graham organize and divide the narrative material into four distinct spaces: the first episode takes place mostly at the police station; the second at school, where students refuse to cooperate with the investigation or are simply uninterested, and where investigators and teachers alike seem unable to control the dynamics at play; the third, set in the psychiatric detention center where Jamie awaits trial, unfolds entirely during a session with a psychologist; the fourth takes place in the Millers’ home and van on the day of Jamie’s father’s fiftieth birthday. This choice to segment the story so sharply in space and time complicates any attempt at genre classification: the series is, at once, many things. A police procedural, a teen drama, a psychological thriller, a sociological account of gender-based violence, male rage, cyberbullying, and the British school system (though we might ask: isn’t this model applicable elsewhere too? In Italy, for instance?).
The show is filmed using the long take technique, meaning each episode is shot in one continuous sequence, with no visible cuts between shots. This is a deliberate and effective choice—not sterile virtuosity—meant to glue the viewer to the characters, immersing them in the narrative and subjecting them to the same emotional input—sometimes frantic, sometimes painfully intimate—that the protagonists experience, dictated by the pacing of the events. What we see happens exactly in real time, as it unfolds for the characters being portrayed. Thus, within the pact of verisimilitude that always underlies fiction, the viewer finds themselves very close to the characters’ lived experience.
Adolescence is therefore a series built to engage viewers and confront them with uncomfortable questions, supported by strong writing and excellent performances—first and foremost that of young lead actor Owen Cooper. His portrayal successfully oscillates between that of a sweet, introverted child (he wets himself when the police burst in, he cries as they take him to the station) and that of a violent, manipulative subject, voicing extreme ideas reminiscent of an adult misogynist.
These are questions to which the miniseries does not offer precise answers, because its aim is above all to point directly at the issues and provoke reflection. Some have criticized it as a thesis-driven narrative, forcing a demonstration of the enormous yet still underestimated risks inherent in social media and the widening gap between parents and children, who seem to live in parallel worlds. We appreciated it instead for the force with which it manages to hold attention on timely and relevant themes. There are a few naïve moments and some slightly didactic passages, but they serve to clarify certain points while keeping the narrative flowing.
Yes, the crime Jamie commits reveals how present gender-based violence—both verbal and physical—has become among adolescents today, and it serves as a pretext for exploring themes such as bullying, toxic masculinity, and incel subculture. Yes, the series clearly shows the challenges of parenthood and the failures of the school system; the school-based episode is, to us, the most powerful, capable of rendering palpable the violent chaos of that environment and the surrender of teachers and parents to educational entropy. Yes, Adolescence makes explicit how sexuality and affectivity among young teens go hand in hand with self-esteem and the formation of identity, both individually and socially.
Such emphases are welcome in a television product aimed at a broad audience, because perhaps they will prompt viewers to question the senselessness of the current ban in our country on educational activities and projects dealing with sexuality in nursery, primary, and middle schools.