Adolescence (Netflix) - Review

Rating: 5 out of 5

STEPHEN Graham has said that he co-created Adolescence with writer Jack Thorne to start a conversation that examined the root causes of the rise in violent crime against women of all ages, as well as masculinity and the role that social media plays in both.

He also takes a look at parenting and education to pose difficult questions for all concerned - in the hope that by looking hard at the subject, we can collectively find some answers.

Adolescence, the four part limited series that resulted, is stunning television. It's a wake up call in the form of a gut punch, exposing the dangers that our children are being exposed to every day as well as the devastating consequences of taking our [collective] eye off the ball.

Split into four parts, all of which are shot in single takes, the first instalment follows the arrest [by armed police] and detention of 13-year-old Jamie Miller (Owen Cooper) for the suspected murder of a female teenage classmate. It follows Jamie as he is booked in for questioning by DI Luke Bascombe (Ashley Walters) and DS Misha Frank (Faye Marsay), while his parents - Eddie and Manda (Stephen Graham and Christine Tremarco) and older sister Lisa (Amelie Pease) - attempt to make sense of what's going on.

The first episode is stark and unflinching in its depiction of how the legal process unfolds, as Jamie - who pleads his innocence throughout - is put through competency tests, has bloods taken and is strip-searched, while taking advice from the officers around him and his appointed lawyer Paul Barlow (Mark Stanley), who is also playing catch-up.

It builds to a first interview between Jamie, the detectives, his father and selected appropriate adult, Eddie, and his lawyer, which culminates in CCTV footage of the crime being shown to Jamie and his 'team'. If you weren't floored by this point already, you will be as you watch events unfold.

Thereafter, the reaction of Eddie encapsulates every parents' worst nightmare - instinctively flinching away from his child's attempt at a desperate embrace, before eventually switching back from shock and anger to confusion and love. But make no mistake, the lives of the Millers have been irrevocably changed.

From this point onwards, the show concerns itself with the 'why' of the crime. Episode two follows Bascombe and Frank into Jamie's school as they attempt to locate the murder weapon and interview selected friends of Jamie and of the victim, in a bid to make sense of the tragedy. Yet it also delves into the harshness of the school environment - the chaos of the playground, the difficulty of controlling a classroom, the tensions that exist between students and teachers (particularly within large, inner city schools).

It's the same school that Bascombe's son, Adam (Amari Bacchus), attends - and it is Adam who eventually 'educates' his father on social media's reach and its negative impact on those it targets. Andrew Tate is mentioned, as is the manosphere and the 80:20 formula. The use of emojis and how they translate (blue pill, red pill, etc) is also exposed - prompting Bascombe to reflect on his own potential shortcomings as a father, whilst realising how far out of touch so many adults are with teenage culture. The final moments between father and son are hopeful, tender and poignant.

But again, the episode grips like a vice. It plays on parental insecurity and teenage confusion while educating and provoking some tough questions.

The third instalment maintains the momentum - unfolding as a two-hander between Jamie and child psychologist Briony (Erin Doherty) during their final session together, as she prepares to write the independent assessment that is required by the court ahead of sentencing.

This hour unfolds like a tense poker game... with Briony again seeking out the elusive 'why' at the core of the drama, and Jamie deflecting and denying at every opportunity. It is a masterclass in acting. Doherty zig zags between calm and vulnerable - her questions exposing a ferocious rage in Jamie that gives rise to some violent explosions. It's here that Cooper, a first-time actor, really comes into his own - his see-sawing between politeness and rage mesmerising in its unpredictability.

Once more, the show manages to pose some tough questions concerning masculinity - how it is defined, how it is 'taught' and practised, what influences and shapes it. There's also questions asked of responsibility and accountability, of bullying, of social media, role models and fake news (or misinformation). 

Yet each time Jamie is drawn closer to accepting and acknowledging the truth of his situation, he pushes back - exposing the radicalised nature of his mind. It's truly terrifying stuff - as evidenced by a final shot of Briony by herself in the room, attempting to compose herself. Again, it's an acting masterclass.

The final episode unfolds 13 months after the crime and focuses on Eddie, Manda and Lisa as they attempt to carry on with their lives, on Eddie's birthday. It's a break away from the somewhat more procedural element of the first three instalments and a little more melodramatic. Yet it is just as effective in showcasing the repercussions of Jamie's actions on those around him. 

It is clear that the Millers are a broken family, torn apart by guilt, grief, despair, confusion and anger. As their day unfolds, the episode (again filmed in one take) comes down to a single moment between Eddie and Manda as they confront their own role in Jamie's crime - whether they were complicit in some way, or powerless by-standers, naive in their belief that their son was safe in his bedroom. It's gut-wrenching stuff, culminating in a tour-de-force personal moment from Graham that is sure to leave every viewer emotionally shattered.

But anyone expecting this to help form some neat conclusion or to be spoon fed soft answers had best think again. Adolescence doesn't seek to provide any. It does bring some form of closure to certain elements of the story, yet refuses to let viewers off the hook. If anything, by the time the credits roll for the final time, the harder work has begun for those watching.

And it's here that the mercurial nature of the show can truly be felt. It does - exactly as it set out to - provoke fierce debate. It does illicit head scratching. It does make you angry, as well as sad. And it does leave you afraid.

Its reach is immense. People from all walks of life, in a lot of different countries, are joining the discourse, for better and for worse.

I've read many opinions - some of which [astonishingly] seek to denigrate the show's creators for making a white boy the focus of the story and defending his actions (describing him as the real victim). I've also read pieces from professionals in psychology and education pointing out the procedural inaccuracies in episodes two and three, while still finding plenty of room to praise the show for its overall intent and reach.

And I've read - most importantly - columns from those offering to dig deeper into the issues and put forward some possible answers - none of which are easy.

Adolescence is a show that expertly captures one of the biggest challenges facing society today: how to parent in the modern age and how to protect young, impressionable yet innocent minds. In doing so, it confronts the current debates surrounding social media and toxic masculinity.

It highlights how places that were once thought of as safe - bedrooms or home environments - can still become breeding grounds for radicalisation because of the reach of modern technology (phones). And it shows how bullying extends beyond the classroom and playground, offering no place to hide.

It shows the devastating consequences of bullying, violence and radicalisation on those that experience it. Everyone is a victim to some degree - none more so than the girl who lost her life. But Jamie is acknowledged as a bright, promising student whose lurch towards extremist, misogynist ideology was swift and a product of many influences (incel culture is also noted).

But while some of these influences are obvious (Tate and the wider manosphere, for example), others are less so and encompass the role that everyone (using the idea behind the phrase 'it takes a village to raise a child') has to play, whether it is how we - as parents - communicate with our children, how schools are educating them, and whether safeguarding in its current form goes far enough.

There is so much to unpick in Adolescence that Graham and Thorne have undoubtedly achieved what they set out to - and then some. It has rightly become a cultural phenomenon, capable of creating positive change.

And that's not even forgetting the technical and acting prowess behind it. The performances, without exception, are top drawer and deserve every award coming to them, while the way it is shot (almost fly-on-the-wall, documentary style at times) merely adds to the sense of realism and immediacy.

Adolescence is, without doubt, one of the most potent, unforgettable and probing television series of all time. Created with the best of intentions, it looks set to become a real force for good and, hopefully, change.