In the moments after 13 year-old Jamie Miller is taken from his home by police on suspicion of murder, he travels with authorities and a solitor to the station. As they rattle off standard police lingo, Jamie buries his face in his hand as he looks out the window. We barely see his expression for the duration of his ride as he sees the neighborhood scenery whisk by him, almost like he can’t believe that he is being pulled away from his home. It’s not unlike how a young kid hides their face behind the skirt of their mother or the pant leg of a father’s trousers when they are too embarrassed and they are clinging to any ounce of security. Are legions of young men being taught “the wrong way” to behave or have their precious masculinity stunted and tested before they have real-life experiences? Netflix’s Adolescence begins as an police drama but then transforms into something much more dangerous, disturbing and concerning.
Communication between adults and their children is a heavy theme throughout these tightly directed four episodes, as is the notion that parents and their kids stop speaking the same language as they get older. Maybe we abandon these simpaticoes without realizing it, or maybe we never share the same foothold. Social media alienates adults and children have a tendency to act without knowing how badly they want and need their parents at their side when things get tough and serious. Most concerning is that we never realize these things until after something serious, perhaps deadly, squares us in the proper perspective.
This is not a procedural, and this is not a whodunnit. Co-creators Jack Thorne and Stephen Graham (shatteringly good as Jamie’s father, Eddie) are here to explore the ripples of a violent act rather than the act itself. Is anger hereditary? Is this kind of violence inevitable. Is there a silent sickness alienating young men, and, maybe most terrifying, can it be stopped?
Jamie Miller stands accused of stabbing a classmate, Katie Leonard, to death. With his father by his side during an initial interrogation, Jamie insists that he and Katie had limited contact even though he knew who she was. DI Luke Bascome (a steady Ashley Walters), who has a son that goes to the same school, discusses Instagram interactions between the teens and plants the seed of where the show is going in terms of dissecting the how and why. Episode two shows Bascombe, with his partner DS Misha Frank (Faye Marsay), going classroom to classroom to talk to students who may have known both the accused and the victim. Even though some students try to have a laugh, there is remarkable tension and anger hanging in every scene of every episode. The emotions run high.
We will be talking about Owen Cooper’s performance for years to come. In his first acting role, his Jamie is slippery, immature, and boyish, and he seems like he is always trying to play the version of himself that other people expect from him. In the masterful third episode, Jamie is being interviewed by child psychologist Briony Ariston, played with arresting sturdiness by Erin Doherty. As the episode begins, he flirts with her as she brings him half of a sandwich and a hot chocolate with contraband marshmallows. He slouches in his chair to seem cool–maybe another boy inspired him or gave him pointers on how to talk to girls. Jamie teases Briony about “being posh” before she launches into questions about Jamie’s perceptions of masculinity and what he thinks about women. She is there to get an “understanding of his understanding,” and she sees his anger in full-force when he gets frustrated several times in their last meeting. What’s truly unsettling is how we grip onto Jamie’s isolation and confusion. We don’t forgive him or grant him permission for what he may or may not have done, but Cooper telegraphs to us reminders of Jamie’s age before he morphs back into a cocky, hurt monster. Doherty, with her back straight and her eyes focused, never lets us see Briony react to Jamie’s behavior, because she knows what’s on the line.
In the final, gut-wrenching episode, Graham and Thorne turn back our attention to the family affected by Jamie’s actions. Amanda, Eddie’s wife, is trying to keep the mood festive and light for Eddie’s fiftieth birthday (13 months after Jamie is arrested), but events derail the day even as Eddie tries to keep his head on straight for his family. Eddie is a man’s man, his voice gruff and his posture masculine. Graham binds together a thoughtfulness with Eddie’s tough demeanor, and we learn things about his past that inform him on how he wanted to be as a dad. Eddie and Amanda think that they have failed, and we feel how the weight is suffocating this family. How do you get out from under that? Graham delivers one of the most heartbreaking performances you will see this year.
Adolescence begins with a criminal interrogation, but it ends as a wake for innocence lost. Once we have abandoned childhood, or had it ripped away from us, you can never get it back. These kids are not all right.
Adolescence is streaming now on Netflix.
