How often do you truly see great drama on Netflix? I’m talking about shake-you-to-your-core telly, that leaves you with more questions than answers.
It’s true that there have been some memorable water cooler moments; Tiger King springs to mind (although to be fair, nobody was at the literal water cooler because it aired during lockdown) but Stranger Things had a similar effect, and 2021’s Squid Game, also caused a furore. “Red light, green light!”
But Adolescence is something else. For me, this four-parter, which is astonishingly shot in single takes, is up there with Our Friends in the North and that’s saying something because the 1996 drama is sublime.
People are currently enamoured of Apple’s Severance but while it throws a spotlight on the purgatory of corporate culture, and has a sideways Twin Peaks sensibility, it’s nowhere near the same level.
Severance reminds me in many ways of Lost; an Easter-egg riddled drama featuring mind-bending story knots that leave you sitting there as the credits roll, thinking: “What am I missing?” And not always in a good way.
Don’t get me wrong, Severance has built an immersive world but the episode I enjoyed most, the one that gave us Harmony Cobel’s backstory, seems to be the one the hardcore fans most dislike. Being out of step with the Severance is as uncool as a Boomer using the ‘thumbs up’ emoji but it’s a shoulder shrug from me because 2025 has already been won by Adolescence.
Jack Thorne and Stephen Graham’s staggering mini-series sets a new benchmark for scripted drama. Shot, as I mentioned before but is worth repeating, in single takes, its technical brilliance is matched by a sparse and naturalistic script, partnered with astounding performances.
The story begins with 14-year-old Jamie Miller, played by the bafflingly brilliant newcomer Owen Cooper, who is arrested for the murder of his classmate, Katie.
His dad Eddie, played by newly-minted national treasure Stephen Graham, serves as his appropriate adult during the police grilling, and over the following 13 months, we watch Eddie swivel from disbelief, to a gnarly realisation of the truth and ultimately, guilt and then, grief.
Part of the genius of the show is that it isn’t a whodunnit, it’s a ‘whydunnit’.
We know early on that Jamie is guilty thanks to CCTV evidence but the drama looks at his motivation, and by doing so, draws us masterfully, and terrifyingly, into a teenage world that has been poisoned by social media and ‘podcast bros’ (in the mould of fragile man-baby Andrew Tate), who have more influence than their own parents.
The lead detective, DI Luke Bascombe, is played by Top Boy’s Ashley Walters, in a performance that will no doubt push him further towards mainstream leading man status. (Some of you will remember him as Asher D but we’re a long way from So Solid Crew now, Toto).
However, the absolute standout is the two-handed episode between Jamie and child psychologist Briony, played by Erin Doherty. Watching all hope drain from her being as Jamie reveals himself to be a sociopath, lurching between a kid who craves love and validation, to an angry and volatile teen, who has been shaped by insidious incel culture, is just breath-taking.
Like Briony, by the end of that episode, I too, I had to regulate my breathing. To see her slump at the table, in the knowledge that he did in fact, with intent, kill Katie, and isn’t just a sweet boy who took a wrong turn, was heartbreaking.
Stephen Graham has talked about the origins of the drama, and how a real life news report of a boy stabbing a young girl, made him think about what would provoke someone so young to murder.
Co-writer Jack Thorne, who wrote the This Is England movies, His Dark Materials, Enola Holmes, and Harry Potter and the Cursed Child (and is also writing the Lord of the Flies remake and the new Tron movie), has said he was partially inspired by the book, Cries Unheard: The Story of Mary Bell, by Gitta Sereny, about the murders committed by an 11-year-old called Mary Bell.
The book focuses both on her crimes, which occurred in the late Sixties, and also the events that led her to commit murder in the first place. Today, in a world where digital gods rule and knife crime is on the rise, both men were keen to explore the societal factors behind the crimes.
Jack has talked about how the one-shot format imposed a structure on his writing, pulling focus on the theatrical unities - time, place and action. He said: “You are constantly asking where the energy is”. The second thing that excited him, is that by shooting in single takes, it transformed the process, giving power to the actor.
I can almost taste the thrill of knowing that he had to write something that was built on logical momentum but that became another thing entirely once the actors worked their magic.
Few shows come close to Adolescence in terms of emotional depth and cultural relevance. It is television at its most powerful; devastating, necessary, and unforgettable. You know something’s right when that’s all you’re talking about with your friends in person and on Whatsapp. I’ve never received so many messages about a show. Some gushing, some pleading; “How will I ever write anything this good?”, or others that asked, simply: “Have you seen it yet?”
Well, I’ve seen it and I’m most certainly going to watch it again. It’s a masterclass.
This was more than water cooler, this was the world congregating around Niagara Falls (and that clunky metaphor, folks, is why no-one’s calling upon me to write scripts for TV).
The genius also lies in the production. If you’re like one of my friends who pressed pause every few minutes to try to work out how they shot it, here’s an explanation of how director, Philip Barantini, and his crew, pulled it off.
And, just for the hell of it, here’s an interview with Stephen Graham, with Emily Zemler, of the LA Times, who further explains the show’s origins. I didn’t realise that this was his first writing credit. Top that, Stevo!
Shows like this make a difference. Because of it, there’s much discussion now about how corrupting the internet has become and how much of a heinous influence it is on impressionable minds. It doesn’t bear thinking about, and yet we must.
The conversation has been well and truly started, let’s hope it doesn’t stop.
Lisa
As someone who works in public education, surrounded by the reality of how social media and our society impacts adolescents in the US, I am actually terrified to watch this show. I struggle with dark narratives as entertainment as it is right now, but this topic is particularly difficult. Maybe I’ll get there. I’ll let you know as soon as I do.
Watched Adolescence last night, Lisa, all of it! Blown away. Agree about episode 3 – I could scarcely breathe. I'll look at the links you've included, as I'm fascinated to know more about how it was filmed.
I've stuck with Severance but am really losing patience this time around, it's so slow. The direction seems to be: Can… you… just… speak… weirdly?