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Jack Thorne and Stephen Graham’s four-part drama Adolescence is a marker of uncommon greatness in contemporary television—a work of such technical brilliance and emotional intensity that it demands to be numbered among the decade’s finest series. Seamlessly integrating cinematic innovation with devastating social commentary, Adolescence is a searing exploration of teenage violence, masculinity, and the online world shaping a generation.
The story begins with a gut punch: 14-year-old Jamie Miller is arrested for murdering his classmate Katie. What follows is less a whodunit than an agonizing examination of why in the world a kid would do this. Presenting Jamie’s guilt from the outset is a bold narrative choice that refocuses the spotlight on the social and psychological undercurrents leading up to his act. There is no mystery to be found here, just a moral reckoning.
Each episode unfolds in a single, unbroken take—a directorial feat that contributes to the immediacy of every moment. It’s a visceral approach that entraps the viewer in the emotional claustrophobia of the characters, particularly Eddie (Stephen Graham), Jamie’s father. Graham delivers a performance of stunning restraint and subtlety, capturing a man drowning in grief and confusion.
Ashley Walters is also riveting as DI Luke Bascombe, a detective grappling with the impotence of justice in a world where digital footprints yield more answers than human relationships. The breakthrough comes when his teenage son deciphers the coded emojis on social media posts, revealing a hidden language of misogyny that adults can’t decipher. The programme doesn’t just name-check incel culture and Andrew Tate—it shows how these ideologies seep into adolescence unnoticed.
The standout episode Is the psychological examination of Jamie by Briony (chillingly accurately portrayed by Erin Doherty). It’s a masterclass in writing and acting as Briony peels back the layers of Jamie’s psyche to expose the poisonous narratives young boys are taught. The fact that newcomer Owen Cooper’s first role was this one makes his understated, unnerving performance as Jamie all the more remarkable.
The final episode eschews melodrama for uncomfortable truths. There are no villains in the family, no simple explanations—just the unresolved question of how society is failing its boys. Adolescence offers no easy answers, but it forces us to ask the right questions. And that might be the most powerful thing television can do.
