Adolescence: A Web of Wounds

The Netflix short series Adolescence (2025), featuring the debut of 15-year-old Owen Cooper alongside Stephen Graham, unsettles audiences in ways few shows dare to. Unsurprisingly, it has become a global talking point and the most-watched show since its release on March 13th, 2025.

Adolescence draws heavily from the British audiovisual tradition of Social Realism, both in its socio-political themes and storytelling approach. It reflects pressing issues of the past decade, particularly the rise in knife crime among UK youth and the negative impact of social media. It doesn't just depict these crises—it forces the viewer to sit with their uncomfortable truths.

By keeping the cast’s original accents and filming in real-life locations, the miniseries adds a layer of authenticity. Though the characters are from Northern England, they represent everyday people, especially given that nearly half of Britons identify as working class. The actors’ natural performances enhance emotional depth, making it easier for the audience to connect with them. The setting is firmly rooted in a local community, with dialogue highlighting the close-knit geography of the locations, visually emphasized by aerial shots in the second episode’s finale. For those familiar with these settings, it becomes all the more relatable.

Not only that, but the Netflix series also incorporates documentary techniques. Its opening sequence, featuring real photos of the child actors, evokes the style of popular true-crime documentaries. Beyond this, the series employs a fly-on-the-wall approach, positioning the audience as silent, unfiltered witnesses, drawing them into the story naturally. A deliberately detached camera style amplifies the sense of helplessness, forcing the audience to witness rather than intervene. The use of CCTV footage shapes the audience’s perception, reinforcing themes of surveillance, truth, and denial. The grainy, distant perspective contrasts sharply with the series’ intimate close-ups, forcing viewers to confront an unfiltered reality.

Beyond the narrative, casting choices also shape audience perception. The presence of a Black police officer arresting a white working-class boy subtly challenges dominant media portrayals of crime and authority. While the series does not explicitly explore race, this imagery carries weight—particularly in societies where policing disproportionately targets marginalized groups.

Adolescence deliberately employs extreme close-ups and narrow angles to immerse the viewer. While close-ups forge a deep connection with the character’s emotions, heightening tension and discomfort, tight framing creates a sense of claustrophobia, anxiety, and entrapment—whether within the characters themselves or the challenges they face. The tracking camera sometimes mirrors their psychological state, using intentional silence and muffled sounds to intensify their internal struggles.

One of the most talked-about aspects of Adolescence is its use of the one-take technique. By eliminating dramatic irony, the audience experiences events in real time, with the same level of understanding as the characters. This technique traps viewers in the immediacy of the moment, stripping away the comfort of omniscience. Technically, this approach reinforces immersion, realism, tension, and suspense, drawing viewers deeper into the unfolding narrative.

Throughout the miniseries, there are direct references to Andrew Tate, the manosphere, the incel community, the 80:20 rule, and the red pill/blue pill trend. These elements are deliberately woven into the narrative to raise awareness of these growing and concerning off-screen issues. Subtle visual cues further reinforce these themes, intertwining them with Freudian concepts to explore the psychological underpinnings of such beliefs.

During the early police station scenes, the mother and son wearing matching colours may symbolize their bond while foreshadowing the Oedipus complex explored in Episode 2 through Jamie’s relationships with the male figures in his family. His weapon, a knife, carries phallic connotations, which, within the context of his maternal bond, reflects both identification and rivalry. These generational cycles are reinforced cinematographically, particularly in the visual parallel between Jamie and his father from Episode 1 to Episode 4. Jamie's oldest sister, dressed in blue—similar to DI Luke Bascombe—could represent justice or objectivity, suggesting she aligns more with external authority than with family emotions. Meanwhile, their father’s uniform visually ties him to systems of authority and punishment, emphasizing his role in Jamie’s world.

Jamie is frequently framed from a low angle, visually positioning him as powerful or dominant—particularly in moments where he asserts control over his narrative, such as during his psychological evaluation. However, this dominance is undercut by moments of vulnerability, where shifts in framing expose his fragility, such as in his hesitant, discomforted discussion of male figures in his family. The cinematography mirrors his internal conflict, oscillating between power and powerlessness, manipulation and fragility.

Unlike many child-centred narratives, which are often warm and nostalgic, Adolescence is raw, dominated by cold colour tones that enhance its unfiltered realism. Whether they want to or not, the audience is compelled to immerse themselves in the weight of the story and its painful truth. The use of a fragmented narrative mirrors the disjointed and often frustrating reality of such cases, offering only glimpses of the many complex layers involved. The audience is not positioned as a police officer interrogating, a family member sympathizing, or a community member passing judgment—but rather as an individual confronted with the story, urged to engage with its pressing off-screen issues.

The opening scene, in which Jamie wets his pants during the police approach, connects thematically with the final scene in his bedroom. Through its mise-en-scène, it encapsulates how, despite everything, Jamie remains just a child. In an era where screens have become dominant and often manipulative forms of literacy for young people—shaping their perceptions and influencing their realities—Jamie’s story reflects a generation caught in forces beyond their control.

Cinematographically, Adolescence entangles the audience just as much as its protagonist. Its lens captures a tangled web—both the suffocating social structures that ensnare young people and the tightening digital net that shapes their reality.

Caught between these forces, Jamie’s story is not just his own; it mirrors an entire generation—wired, watched, and warped in ways they barely understand. And as the audience, we too become entangled—not just as passive viewers, but as participants, caught in a web of cinematography that refuses to let us look away. More than a show, it is a mirror, a narrative with loose edges—an urgent reflection before the slaughter. It embodies the active engagement demanded by British drama, where the lines between observer and participant blur.