The Tartan

Spoilers for Netflix’s “Adolescence.” 

“Adolescence” is a four-part Netflix miniseries that was released on March 13. The show is a British crime drama that explores the stabbing of a young girl, the prime suspect being 13 year-old schoolmate Jamie Miller. Although I will spoil plot details in this review, I feel this should not impact your enjoyment of the show — the meat of this series lies more in theme rather than in any sense of mystery. 

That being said, it is not much of a spoiler to say that Jamie Miller did commit the crime, motivated in part by the incel culture and the online “manosphere” community. Rather than focusing on plot, the show is a deeply profound work of character study and an apt look into the toxic motivations being instilled into young boys in the current age of Andrew Tate and other toxic male influencers.

The most novel stylistic choice taken directorially in the show was to shoot each episode in one take. From what I’ve gathered from behind-the-scenes details online, this was truly one take — unlike most other attempts of this style, which blend takes together through hidden cuts or CGI (the film “1917” being one such example). 

This style of camerawork is often derided as a gimmick, but I think “Adolescence” fully justifies it. Getting rid of cuts creates a sense of momentum and dread, which builds over time. It also helps ground this case as something that affects actual people. 

Take, for example, the first episode. When Jamie is first arrested and taken to the station, the camera is situated within the police car, and we stay with these characters for the entire ride. It’s hard to explain, but this choice makes the case feel so grounded — we get an actual sense of the home and the station existing within the same 3D space, free from the sort of detachments in world-building that cuts implicitly create. Therefore, we get a better sense of how this case affects a real, tight-knit community.

Or take the third episode, which tells the limited story of a pre-trial psychological report of Jamie Miller in a youth detention facility. If you’ve seen anything from “Adolescence,” it is likely a clip from this episode. As Jamie is interviewed by psychologist Briony, the tone veers swiftly from light and cordial to uncomfortable to dangerous at a steady pace. Jamie, despite inhabiting the body of a 13-year-old, grows increasingly threatening, throwing chairs, yelling at Briony, and challenging her authority. Because this is all shot in one take, we have nowhere to hide — not even the editing of a cut can turn us away. We come to feel exactly like Briony: claustrophobic, trapped in this small room with this unpredictable boy.

On the surface, this characterization of Jamie is a far cry from where we meet him in the first episode — a small, vulnerable boy who wets the bed when he is first arrested and is sobbing through the entire process of being taken into custody at the station. I’d say vulnerability is the prime theme of this episode. An especially heartbreaking scene occurs when Jamie must be strip-searched, and the camera turns away to linger on Jamie’s dad’s face as he watches this go down. Written down, this may sound overly provocative, but is done exceptionally well in the show, and grounds us fully in the father’s emotions as he sees his boy, who he believes to be innocent, accosted and treated like 

a criminal.

When initially viewing the first episode, I had seen clips from the third episode, and had reservations about whether this show could justify such a transition in character from scared boy to dangerous psychopath. But what the show demonstrates exceptionally is that Jamie is a dangerous criminal AND a vulnerable boy. Arguably, he wouldn’t have committed such a heinous act were he not so vulnerable to the toxic messaging of the internet and the shame and anger accidentally imparted to him by his father. This show argues that these two modes of being — dangerous incel murderer and innocent young boy — are not as contradictory as they seem. Even when he’s at his most intimidating, he is still hungry for approval. His psychological evaluation ultimately ends with him asking Briony repeatedly, “Do you like me?”

Owen Cooper, the 14 year-old actor portraying Jamie Miller, does a truly spectacular job in the role, despite this being his first ever acting role. Another star performance is that of Stephen Graham, who plays Jamie’s father Eddie (and also produced and wrote the show). He plays some truly heartbreaking scenes of a man coming to terms with the denial that his son could do such a thing, and with his own responsibility in imparting dangerous demonstrations of anger onto him. I would say that these are the two most fleshed-out characters, the latter precisely because his development is tied so closely to that of the former. 

And this is where the critiques come in, for me. All other characters, while acted perfectly, feel less developed and, frankly, less interesting. That is perhaps why the second and fourth episodes, in which Jamie appears very little or not at all, have noticeably weaker writing. The second episode follows the lead inspector Bascombe and his sergeant Frank as they interview students at the school in an attempt to ascertain a motive for the stabbing. Again, the one-take shooting style adds wonderful momentum, as fire alarms are pulled, fights break out, and students are corralled hectically from class to class, building an atmosphere of stress that you could cut with a knife. 

But when it comes to character work, this episode is lacking. Two major character threads that are pulled are 1) the frayed relationship between Bascombe and his son Adam another student at the school, and 2) the best friend of the victim, Jade, and her intense sense of loss and refusal to receive therapy. Adam ultimately helps Bascombe understand the relevance of incel culture in the case, and the episode ends with Bascombe taking Adam out to eat. This is where we are left with them. So, I guess Bascombe and Adam will be fine now because they got food together? 

And with Jade, her character doesn’t develop at all — she ends the episode exactly where she started. Most of this episode was spent nudging at certain themes and character arcs without taking the time to develop them fully. If this were a longer series where these arcs could be fully developed, I would have no issue, but, ultimately, I am left feeling like they probably shouldn’t have set up these character dilemmas in the first place. 

The same problem exists in the fourth episode, which follows Eddie’s birthday. Set 13 months after the trial, the family members are now local pariahs, suffering vandalism and judgment from the neighborhood. Eddie tries to ignore the effects this judgment is having on him, but it ultimately ends in him having an outburst of rage in public. The episode ends with a long discussion between him and his wife about their culpability in why Jamie turned out the way he did. The stellar acting and directorial choices are still on display, but, again, I am left feeling that some of the ideas feel underdeveloped. It feels harder to justify why in this case, since a lot of time is spent with the parents in this episode. All in all, it feels starkly static and vague. The main substantial we learn is that the parents feel some level of responsibility for their son being the way he is, which we could have assumed from the get-go.

With all that negativity being said, I would still say that “Adolescence” is one of the best shows I’ve seen in recent years. There is so much more to unpack than what I’ve said here, so again, don’t let plot spoilers turn you away. Not only is it artistically excellent, but it is also necessary and instructive in this modern internet age. Recently, the show’s writers were invited to the UK’s Parliament to discuss the show’s themes with its members. I hope this show’s influence continues to spread and urges people to have these difficult conversations, both inside and outside of the home.