Adolescence

“Every generation finds a new thing to blame for the same misogyny that has existed since the Bronze Age.”

Title: Adolescence
Episodes Reviewed: Season 1 (Limited series)
Creators: Jack Thorne 👨🏼🇬🇧 and Stephen Graham 👨🏼🇬🇧
Writers: Jack Thorne 👨🏼🇬🇧 (4 eps) and Stephen Graham 👨🏼🇬🇧 (4 eps)

Reviewed by Ishmeet Nagpal 👩🏽🇮🇳🌈♿

—SPOILERS AHEAD—

Technical: 4/5

Adolescence is a mini-series about a 13-year-old boy named Jamie (Owen Cooper) who is accused of killing his classmate, Katie (Emilia Holliday). It explores the role of social media and the “manosphere” in leading young boys to gendered violence. All four episodes are shot as single takes, giving the story a sense of urgency and quietly approaching doom. You find your eyes glued to each frame, and in the age of second screening, that’s a technical feat in itself.

From the first episode, where Jamie is arrested and charged, creators Jack Thorne and Stephen Graham give audiences the chance to observe and draw their own conclusions. It is “show, don’t tell” taken to the extreme. When this scared little boy wets himself out of fear and is then subjected to a strip search (off-camera), our hearts go out to him. When he tells his father, Eddie (played by co-creator Graham), that he is innocent, we want to believe him like his father does. But then we slowly confront the truth as the third episode reveals his innermost thoughts. Shot as a back-and-forth between a psychoanalyst, Briony (Erin Doherty), and Jamie, this deeply unsettling hour won’t soon be forgotten. The series reaches its high point with a horrifying realization that we all know sensitive boys like Jamie, yet they’re each capable of being twisted into something violent that women of all ages can be terrified of.

However, this “show, don’t tell” approach also leaves loose ends. As his family reels from Jamie’s crime and the community’s retaliation—vandalism, social ostracization—his parents have a heart-to-heart about what they could have done differently. But they don’t reach a consensus, left wallowing in guilt and confusion. This could have been an excellent opportunity to address the underlying issue of patriarchy and the resulting gender roles that damage boys and girls alike. Instead, we get the same old conclusion—it’s the new thing that’s “bad.” It’s TV, the latest pop star, the fashion, the phones, the freedom, the feminism, the influencers, and now, it’s the manosphere. Every generation finds a new thing to blame for the same misogyny that has existed since the Bronze Age. What we need is a clear call to action that does not shy away from placing blame where it belongs. Adolescence fails to do this when it leaves accountability open-ended and vague.

Gender: 3/5
Does it pass the Bechdel Test? NOPE

In the second episode, DS Misha Frank (Faye Marsay) points out to her superior DI Luke Bascombe (Ashley Walters), “Do you know what I don’t like about all this? The perpetrator always gets the front [head]line … Katie isn’t important. Jamie is. Everyone will remember Jamie. No one will remember her.”

It’s a meta moment because this is exactly what Adolescence gets wrong. We never see two women or girls discuss anything that doesn’t include Jamie, or boys in general. Other than a 30-second exchange between Katie’s bereaved friend Jade (Fatima Bojang) and her teacher Mrs. Bailey (Hannah Walters), where they talk about Katie’s passing, we never see how this little girl’s family and friends are affected. In fact, we know almost nothing about Katie. So when the cops and Jamie label her a bully (for calling Jamie an incel), it simply comes off as victim blaming.

On the other hand, the show does paint an accurate picture of gender dynamics within typical nuclear families. Jamie’s mother, Manda (Christine Tremarco), regulates the entire family’s emotions when her husband bursts into rage around her and their daughter, Lisa (Amelie Pease). Eddie has a hard time managing anger, and he projects his feelings onto Manda by repeatedly telling her to calm down when he is the one being chaotic, not her. When Eddie angrily fills a bucket with soapy water, sloshing it all over the kitchen, Manda quietly cleans the mess. When Lisa is upset after another one of Eddie’s outbursts, it’s Manda who goes to her room to check on her. Adolescence viscerally shows how much emotional labour women take on for their families.

The series also demonstrates how violence doesn’t have to be directed at you to feel its effects. During his interview with Briony, Jamie recalls how his father had torn down a shed in one of his rages and how even the notion of his dad being “loving” is weird to him. As for Eddie, he feels confused because he’s nothing like his own father, who had been physically abusive, and he cannot fathom how his behavior might be damaging when he’s never laid a hand on his family. But ultimately, he does impact them, and it is his wife who nudges him to the realization that they could have done better as parents. Yet again, she is the one who carries the heavier emotional burden.

Race: 3/5

The cast is predominantly white, and most characters of colour have minor roles, such as schoolteacher Mr. Malik (Faraz Ayub, who is British Pakistani) or unnamed guards. However, Ashley Walters (who is Black) shines in his role as DI Bascombe. For the first two episodes, Bascombe drives the narrative and becomes a stand-in for the audience as he interrogates Jamie and investigates at Jamie’s school. When Bascombe’s son, Adam (Amari Bacchus, also Black), tries to coach him on Instagram lingo and emojis, we see tension in their relationship. Unlike his dad, who his classmate describes as “handsome” and likely to have been “popular in high school,” Adam is bullied by other children and has trouble opening up to his father about it. Towards the end of Episode 2, Bascombe comes to understand his son a little better and tries to bond with him, inviting him out for chips after school. This evolving dynamic between Black male characters serves as the one ray of hope Adolescence leaves us with: Bascombe and Adam driving off together, haltingly but genuinely connecting as they joke about barbecue sauce.

The sole woman of colour to have a significant role is Jade, who’s also Black. She is Katie’s friend and our only window into Katie’s life. However, when she starts kicking and slapping a character whom she (correctly) suspects of being involved in her friend’s killing, writers veer dangerously close to employing the angry Black woman stereotype. As a saving grace, though, we get a heart-wrenching scene of Jade where she tries to process her loss.

Disability: 2.5/5

Melissa Johns, a disabled actor with limb difference, plays Nurse Carla in the second episode. It’s a brief appearance, but she leaves an impact.

Bonus for LGBTQ: +0.00

When Briony asks Jamie during their interview why he doesn’t have friends who are girls or women, he gets visibly uncomfortable and emphasizes that he isn’t gay. But any references to sexuality end there, and for the rest of the series, there’s no mention of any LGBTQ characters or storylines.

Mediaversity Grade: C 3.13/5

Adolescence demonstrates technical prowess and strong storytelling. It has also started a lot of conversations about toxic masculinity and the role of manosphere influencers like Andrew Tate. The UK government has gone as far as to screen it in secondary schools. Viewers—especially men and boys—may learn something from it. However, it would be a stretch to hail it as a feminist show. It’s all about Jamie and the terrifying rise of misogyny among young boys. It tells us nothing about building a better world beyond, if rightfully, pointing fingers at technology and the role of social media in raising our kids and teens. But for women like Katie, who are at the receiving end of male violence, intent does not matter. Nor should the onus be on girls to learn it.

Like Adolescence? Try these other titles examining young people in crisis.

Grade: CLiJune 24, 2025