“There's a pandemic of knife crime in our country. And it just really hurt my heart.”
This was what seasoned British actor Stephen Graham said, almost on the verge of tears, in an interview where he talked about his new Netflix project in which he didn't take on the role of director, but of the absolute creative mind behind this more than interesting audiovisual work I will comment on further below. A work in which the object of analysis is clearly and specifically human nature, an appealing topic that exudes an almost inherent magnetism that draws us since it addresses the senseless actions we carry out, as it surely happens to almost all of us, on a daily basis. Nonetheless, there isn't an accurate definition for what exactly it is either.
The thing is, there's something in our nature I dare to categorize as "impossible to decipher". Something beyond genetics, social parameters or any other factor that may be adjudicated to our most erratic, dissociated or peculiar behavior. I know it seems vague to express it in this way, but this is what I have believed since I can remember. I don't exactly know why we act the way we do and, even though there are academic disciplines specialized in studying human behavior, the mystery many times lies underneath every understanding, hiding, waiting to attack us or, more precisely, shock us.
Apparently, this is how Graham (Snatch, The Irishman) understood it in his intense, reflective exploration of the truth titled Adolescence. This is—I can't believe I'm repeating it—a great four-episode Netflix miniseries presented as four long takes, each approximately an hour long. Through them, we witness an exploration of the moral consequences of a whole community after Katie Leonard's murder, a 13-year-old girl, in a modest middle-class English neighborhood. The interesting part is that the main and sole suspect is Jamie Miller, a boy the same age as Katie who initially doesn't show any sign of being the murderer. With this premise, the overwhelming first episode hits us with everything it's got without even giving us time to process the events.
This beginning functions as an intriguing introduction to what's coming: we witness how detective Bascombe is assigned to the case and how he, together with a team, enters the Miller's house as if the devil itself were inside when the murderer's identity is confirmed. But it's Jamie, who is peacefully sleeping in his bedroom. The police procedure, like everything that follows episode after episode, is narrated in real-time. No cuts. No possibility to escape a mistake. The mise-en-scène is claustrophobic: we see a child being transported to a police station while his parents follow him; the distress is endless, like the wait for the verdict or resolution of this "misunderstanding," as the father describes it.
This wise decision of not introducing the characters may be frustrating for many. Why aren't we allowed to know them even a bit? Unlike what happens during the first minutes of Monsters season two, based on the Menéndez brothers' case, this story is fictional, so certain information is withheld from us. How would you feel if your teen son were taken to a police station for a crime that you firmly believe he didn't commit? I can't say I know what it feels like to experience a moment as stressful as devastating like this one, nor can I relate to it as a father, because I'm not one. But Adolescence produces a sensation of endless effectiveness within its complex emotional machinery of putting oneself in the shoes of others, I would literally say, of everyone involved.
Let's think about a story of such magnitude in which the uneasiness of a detective who doesn't know how to address the case, the shock a beloved, respected family feels in its heart and the mental strength of a psychologist to try to understand the young protagonist work as the driving force to look for answers. Why did he do it? His father, Eddie—Graham as a co-protagonist, but also as the scriptwriter and creator of this shocking story—looks for comfort in his son's past together with his wife and daughter. Meanwhile, Bascombe conducts a routinary raid because he's missing the murder weapon and the motives—blindly believing he will find both—and the psychologist faces a child who sees himself as ugly and unpopular. "Did we raise him wrong?" the mother wonders.
Conversely, Jamie chooses his father as his "appropriate adult," meaning any person over 18 years old who the child feels comfortable with during the infernal interrogation process. "I want my dad," Jamie determines. The first person that comes to his mind is him. Not his mother nor any other family member; him and only him. In a given moment of the third episode, we see Jamie—while he talks to his assigned psychologist—constantly mention the relationship he had with his paternal grandfather and his father. This is a sign that masculinity may have caused certain issues in a vulnerable teenager, as almost all of us were. Jamie chooses to follow a road of bad influences, without taking into consideration the consequences, as we all could have done.
Nonetheless, Adolescence doesn't focus on exploring the banality of evil for the sake of increasing the morbidity of certain spectators. That may have been the most convenient and appealing path, but where does this leave the "what could we have done better" the parents ask in the end? The answers, once again, may never be disclosed.
Posted on MARCH 22, 2025, 13:38 PM | UTC-GMT -3
If you liked this article remember to give it a 👉 LIKE, put it in your FAVORITES, COMMENT 🗣️ , and FOLLOW ME for more movie and series content 📽
View replies 1