Adolescence – A Stunning, Gut-Wrenching Portrait of Modern Parenthood

Rating: 10/10 ⭐️

I checked out Adolescence after seeing all the hype, and honestly, I was hooked within minutes. The show follows the shocking arrest of 13-year-old Jamie Miller for the murder of his classmate Katie Leonard, and it dives deep into the emotional, psychological, and social fallout that follows. There was something incredibly immersive about the way the show was filmed, especially the one-shot technique that immediately stood out to me. It felt like the camera was a silent observer, gliding around the characters, pulling me right into their world. The storytelling was tighter because of it—more intense, more personal. One of the first things that caught me off guard was how polite the police officers were, which is not something you often see in shows like this. That subtle difference set the tone for a series that doesn’t go for cheap dramatics but instead aims for a kind of raw realism that hits much harder.

As the first episode unfolded, I found myself questioning Jamie—did he really kill Katie? The uncertainty made it all the more gripping, and by the end, watching Eddie, Jamie's father, break down while clinging to the belief that his son couldn’t have done it, only to see the CCTV footage suggest otherwise, was devastating. That emotional tension kept building in episode two. The focus shifted to the school, where detectives tried to untangle what led Jamie to do what he did. It made me uncomfortably aware of how little we know about what kids are actually consuming on social media these days. That realization lingered with me, especially as a new father.

Episode three completely floored me with its intensity and emotional weight. The interview between Jamie and the psychologist, Briony, was some of the tensest television I've seen in a long time. Owen Cooper, who plays Jamie, was phenomenal. This was the point where I began to truly see the signs of a developing psychopath. The way he switched tones—polite one moment, sarcastic the next, then angry or seemingly genuine—was chilling. Erin Doherty, as Briony, held her own masterfully. She brought this calm, assertive energy to the scene that made their back-and-forth so thrilling to watch. You could feel her trying to maintain control even as Jamie chipped away at her composure. The moment she broke down after the interview said everything.

The final episode takes place thirteen months after Jamie’s arrest and shifts focus to the emotional aftermath, especially within his family. Watching Eddie grapple with the weight of everything that had happened—the arrest, the media frenzy, the painful isolation, the realization that he might have missed signs—walking through Jamie’s empty room, kissing the doll left on his bed, and whispering that he should have done better—it gutted me. As someone who’s just beginning his own journey as a father to a brilliant eight-month-old son, this episode hit me hard. It made me think deeply about the kind of world my child will grow up in and how I need to be more vigilant, especially when it comes to the digital spaces he’ll inhabit.

Adolescence isn’t just a show—it’s a punch to the gut, a quiet scream, and a mirror. It doesn’t wrap things up neatly, and it doesn’t offer easy answers—just like parenting, where you’re constantly navigating uncertainty and doing your best without a clear roadmap. But what it does do is linger. Long after the final credits rolled, I was still thinking about Jamie, about Eddie, about the nuances of parenting, trauma, and the unknown territory of raising children in a hyper-connected world. It’s a show I’ll recommend to everyone, but especially to parents. Because beyond the impeccable direction and haunting performances, Adolescence is a warning, a conversation starter, and maybe even a small wake-up call. For me, it was a 10/10—no question.