Speak with anyone about Adolescence, and chances are the first thing you'll talk about are the staggering one-take episodes — dizzying hour-long shots that find the camera moving through windows, riding on the hood of a van, and even flying off via drone, all of which happen seamlessly. On a technical level, it's a stunning feat that's guaranteed to inspire many a "How did they do that?!"
Such flashy camerawork could easily become a gimmick, but in the hands of director Philip Barantini (who also directed the one-shot film Boiling Point), as well as writers and creators Stephen Graham and Jack Thorne, the style only serves to emphasize the churning tension of Adolescence's disturbing, fraught depiction of a boy in Northern England arrested for the murder of a girl at his school.
In the opening moments of Episode 1, 13-year-old Jamie Miller (Owen Cooper) is arrested at gunpoint and whisked off to a police station, with the camera along for the chaotic and upsetting ride. It seems impossible that such a young boy could have committed the terrible crime he's accused of, with the up-close camerawork placing the viewer in the scene like a member of his family, horrified yet unable to help.
But as Adolescence carries on, it becomes clear that Jamie isn't as naïve as he initially seems. The show offers a canny commentary on the disconnect between parents and children, and the dangers that await kids on the internet — including cyberbullying and the toxic manosphere. Repulsive misogynist influencer Andrew Tate is name-checked directly, and the plot touches on revenge porn and incels, showing how even young kids can be exposed to violent ideologies. The fact that billionaire super-villain Elon Musk helped spread false theories about the show's supposed anti-white agenda only serves to prove the efficacy of its cultural commentary.
Adolescence's four hour-long episodes are set days or even months apart, with the entire series spanning about two years after the initial incident. It's a series of snapshots rather than a complete story: we see police officers (Ashley Walters and Faye Marsay) searching for answers within the chaos of a high school, a forensic psychologist (Erin Doherty) interviewing Jamie, and the lingering pain felt by Jamie's family members (Stephen Graham, Christine Tremarco and Amélie Pease).
This structure means we're completely missing parts of the story — notably, we learn almost nothing about the victim or her family — which means Adolescence isn't fully satisfying. But rather than being a flaw, the lack of a clean or clear resolution adds the realism of the series, which, brilliant as it is, is so emotionally draining that I was frankly relieved for it to be over after just four episodes. It points viewers toward urgent social issues without being didactic or too clear-cut.
While the camerawork might be the show's hook, the devastating performances are what allow for the creators to pull off such long, uninterrupted takes. Stephen Graham is devastating as the brusque yet loving dad who wonders if he could have done more to help Jamie, while Owen Cooper carries the series in its most challenging role: a boy young enough to inspire sympathy and protectiveness in viewers, yet old enough to have also been capable of terrible things. Episode 3, nearly all of which consists of an hour-long interview with a psychologist, is a dialogue-driven tour de force, as Cooper adeptly cycles through childlike innocence, smirking charm and alarming outbursts of rage.
It's not an easy watch, but Adolescence has harrowing substance to match its dazzling style.