The Stripping of Adolescence
Matching his viscous acting talent with his stamp on history is Owen Cooper, a 15-year-old first time actor that has skyrocketed the Emmy’s standards for rising talent. As the youngest-ever Emmy winner for best supporting actor in a limited series, Cooper's first acting gig has thrusted him to the big leagues; a fast pass granted by his chilling portrayal of the corruption of innocence.
Innocence acts as a wall of protection, shielding the young from evils that infiltrate the adult mind. Although, with innocence fractured by the media of today, evils have seeped through the cracks, and the effects are nothing short of terrifying.
Pushing a tidal wave of societal introspection is Netflix’s new hit mini series, Adolescence, released this past March by director Phillip Barantini—a man determined to expose the ugly infestations crawling beneath the surface of modern day child development. The Emmy winning psychological drama spans four episodes, each having taken place in a single shot, challenging its actors to immerse themselves while offering viewers an uncomfortably close look into the judicial process of 13-year-old Jamie, played by Owen Cooper, being accused of murdering a girl from his class.
Amassing an impressive view count of 66.3 million views in just two weeks, the production has more than justified itself. Its allure sparked from a taboo subject being confronted: the rise of toxic masculinity in young men. Unlike typical crime-based ‘entertainment,’ this series does not tackle the question of guilt, but rather the question of why—as such this review contains spoilers.
Glorification of the booking system is often pictured by shows glazing over the sequences that create unwarranted anxiety and outright boredom in viewers. Adolescence brilliantly goes against the grain as each hour long episode unfolds in real time, scenes changing with the entrance of new characters. Silent car rides as Jamie whimpers, his wincing father watching his young son be stripped searched, cell filled solitude, and the eventual reveal of CCTV footage of Jamie stabbing a young girl seven times in a parking lot all uncomfortably taking place in the uninterrupted sequence of one hour.
According to cinematographer, Matthew Lewis, in an article for Variety, “we mapped the area we were using and looked at how the camera would move within it, and we rehearsed it like a dance, between me and the cast.”
Vile revelations are exposed throughout episode three, as forensic psychologist, Briony, peels back layers of Jamie’s psyche. Owen gives a hair raising performance, balancing the innocence of his adolescence with the serpentine attack of anger he laces into the conversation. Despite the female psychologist’s age, Jamie contorts from a young boy to a simmering animal the moment that Briony speaks with authority—effectively establishing the resentment he holds toward women asserting dominance over him.
The intriguingly scripted chess match builds with Jamie being coaxed to confess his advances toward the victim, and the label of ‘incel’ he received following her rejection. Cambridge defines incel as “a member of a group of people on the internet who are unable to find sexual partners despite wanting them, and who express hate toward people whom they blame for this.” At this, the audience begins to understand Jamie, and his poisoned worldview due to his online exposure to the ‘red pill mentality.’
“The red pill functions similarly in the so-called ‘manosphere,’ a vast network of websites and blogs frequented by online misogynist groups…who embrace the idea that men’s unhappiness and lack of sexual success is the fault of women and feminists,” according to Britannica. Testosterone-pumped podcast hosts serve as annoying flies buzzing nonsense into the world, but this series valiantly shines a light into the damage being done to the young boys who are labeling ‘women haters’ as their next idolized superman figures.
Briony’s interview concludes with a casual but deadly confession from Jamie, stating that he was inherently ‘better’ than most boys as he did not sexually assault the young girl upon hearing her rejection—as most boys would have taken advantage. Jamie’s undeniable neurological corruption visually turns the psychologist’s face white, along with the audience’s, as the somber recognition of the detrimental force growing in young men is fully realized.
It takes a great deal of talent for a television production to create a nauseous audience. A stomach wrenching revulsion—not at crafted gore, piercing forehead veins, or physical intimidation—but in response to the horror that has not just creeped its way into our television screens but has grabbed hold of a large part of the upcoming generation. Children are no longer safe alone in their bedrooms—not because of physical threats but because of psychological ones. The neurological possession of a ‘red pill mentality’ is an invasive and predatory intrusion of developing young boys’ view on women and the value their lives hold.
Adolescence does not serve as another true crime drama to captivate audiences. The series is short and hard hitting—a punch in the stomach. The generation that has had iPads thrusted into their hands at the age of three is growing up, and the toxicity that has acted as a virus to the understanding of their patriarchal place in the world is coming to light in the most unsettling of ways. The show is exceptionally real and it forces viewers to confront the consequences of where society is headed.
Serving as an amber alert to all devices with Netflix in reach, Adolescence is sounding the alarm to the stolen innocence of young boys everywhere—a call that should have every head turned toward their television screens and tuning into Owen Cooper’s haunting, award-winning, performance.
Written by Logan Hansen, Design: Aida Packer