A 13-year-old boy trying to dominate or overpower an adult woman twice his age—can we even imagine this? The answer, disturbingly, is yes, particularly in an era where social media dictates the upbringing of children more than parents or teachers do.

Social media’s influence on young minds is undeniable. Regardless of what we actively seek, algorithms ensure that certain content keeps appearing on our timelines, whether organically or inorganically. A single click, a single view, or even just a moment’s curiosity is enough to flood our feeds with similar content. There is no real regulation in place to control what children are exposed to, as long as money is involved. The series Adolescence on Netflix tackles this disturbing reality head-on.

The limited series consists of four one-hour episodes, each presenting a raw and unfiltered look at the consequences of social media exposure on young minds. What sets Adolescence apart is its groundbreaking approach to cinematography. The series is filmed in long, uninterrupted takes, with the first episode executed in a single take and the subsequent three episodes shot with minimal cuts. The absence of traditional editing creates an immersive, almost suffocating realism, requiring the actors to perform with extraordinary precision and emotional depth. Extensive rehearsals ensured that they didn’t break character, and the results are truly astonishing.

The series begins with Ashley Walters as a detective investigating a shocking case involving a teenage boy, Jamie Miller, played masterfully by Owen Cooper. Each episode unfolds in a different setting—his home, the police station, a juvenile correction centre, and a shopping mall—giving the audience an intimate look at the different facets of his life and the repercussions of his actions.

Stephen Graham, the creator and writer of the series, has delivered an unsettling and necessary critique of modern adolescence. The show exposes the dangers of unfiltered social media content and its impact on young minds. In today’s world, children grow up with smartphones in their hands, often absorbing toxic ideologies that distort their perception of adulthood, gender roles, and power dynamics. Adolescence is already a confusing period—children are not yet adults, but they are no longer mere children either. The overexposure to harmful content only exacerbates this confusion, leading to alarming behavioural changes, as seen in Jamie’s character.

At the heart of Adolescence is Owen Cooper’s hauntingly brilliant performance as Jamie Miller. With his innocent, almost angelic face, he initially appears incapable of any wrongdoing. The audience, much like the characters in the show, finds it difficult to believe that such a young boy could commit a heinous crime. When Jamie is first arrested, he wets himself in fear—a stark reminder of his age and vulnerability. Yet, as the series progresses, we witness his terrifying transformation. In one particularly unsettling scene, Jamie’s interactions with Briony Ariston (played by Erin Doherty) shift disturbingly from aggression to flirtation, exposing his warped perception of relationships, fuelled by the content he consumes online.

The third episode is particularly powerful, showcasing Jamie’s emotional range as he swings between aggression, manipulation, and remorse. His ability to switch from a frightened child to a domineering presence is unsettling, and Cooper’s performance ensures that we feel every ounce of that discomfort. By the time the truth is fully revealed, the audience is left questioning everything they initially believed.

The final episode takes a hard look at the aftermath of Jamie’s actions, focusing not just on the victim’s family but also on his own. Stephen Graham himself portrays Jamie’s father, delivering an emotionally charged performance that highlights the struggles of parenting in a digital age. The series doesn’t just explore the failings of one child but rather questions how society, schools, and parents have allowed such toxic influences to shape young minds. A particularly poignant moment comes from a teacher who exclaims in frustration, “These kids are impossible!” But are they truly impossible, or has society failed them?

Beyond the psychological depth, Adolescence also touches on the very real issue of bullying and its tragic consequences. The severe bullying is the issue occuring all over, for references the real-life case of a bullied student in Kerala, India, who was driven to suicide after being tortured by his classmates.

The series asks an uncomfortable yet crucial question—when did inflicting pain on others become entertainment?

Ultimately, Adolescence is not just a drama; it is a chilling social commentary on the unchecked power of digital content. It forces us to confront the role of parents, educators, and tech companies in shaping the next generation. With its one-take cinematography, harrowing performances, and unflinching narrative, Adolescence is a must-watch. It is a wake-up call to the dangers lurking in the digital age, a stark reminder that children are not just growing up—they are being shaped, often by forces beyond our control.

A masterpiece of modern storytelling, Adolescence is as disturbing as it is essential. It leaves us with an unsettling thought—if we continue down this path, what kind of adults will today’s adolescents become?

Each episode is one single take

The cinematography of Adolescence is nothing short of a technical marvel, pushing the boundaries of immersive storytelling. Each of its four hour-long episodes is executed in a single continuous take, an audacious feat that amplifies the raw, unfiltered nature of the narrative. This approach eliminates the comfort of cuts, forcing the audience to experience every tense moment in real-time, as if they are trapped within the digital turmoil alongside the characters. The fluid camera work seamlessly weaves through chaotic online interactions, emotional breakdowns, and unrelenting social scrutiny, creating an almost voyeuristic sense of involvement. By opting for this ambitious one-take format, Adolescence transforms its cinematography into an extension of its social critique—unyielding, relentless, and disturbingly intimate.