Mahdi Ahmed

Watching Adolescence as a parent feels like having your heart ripped out, examined under a harsh light, and then handed back with a quiet reminder of how fragile youth really is. The series throws us into the nightmare of the Miller family, whose 13-year-old son, Jamie, is arrested for the unthinkable—murdering a classmate. From the moment the police arrive, there’s no escape. It’s raw, relentless, and terrifying in its realism, a reminder that no family is immune to tragedy.

The choice to shoot each episode in a single continuous take is nothing short of brilliant. It pulls us deep into the chaos, refusing to let us look away. Every moment feels unfiltered, immediate, and painfully real. Stephen Graham delivers a devastating performance as Eddie Miller, a father drowning in confusion, rage, and unbearable grief.

But the real revelation here is Owen Cooper. In his first-ever role, the young actor carries the weight of the entire series on his small shoulders—and he does it masterfully. His Jamie is unsettlingly complex: one moment just a scared boy, the next an unreadable enigma. There are scenes where he barely speaks, yet his silence is deafening. His blank stares, sudden shifts in emotion, and the terrifying emptiness in his eyes make it impossible to look away. It’s a performance that feels so natural, so lived-in, that it’s hard to believe this is his debut. Cooper doesn’t just act—he inhabits Jamie in a way that makes the story feel disturbingly real.

And then there’s Episode Three. The moment Jamie meets his clinical psychologist, Briony Aniston. I was completely frozen. It’s the kind of scene that burrows into your chest and refuses to leave. Briony, played with unsettling brilliance by Erin Doherty, an actress whose name I immediately had to look up, is not what I expected. She’s not afraid of Jamie. She doesn’t treat him like a monster. Instead, there’s an eerie, almost hypnotic connection between them—one that feels dangerous and inevitable. Their conversation is quiet, measured, yet charged with an intensity that makes every second unbearable. It’s in this moment that I realized Adolescence isn’t just a story about crime or guilt—it’s about the terrifying unpredictability of young minds, the way connections can form in the most unexpected places, and how sometimes, the scariest thing isn’t the crime itself, but what lingers in its aftermath.

But Adolescence isn’t just about one family’s nightmare—it’s a wake-up call. Jamie’s slow descent into online radicalization is a stark reminder that the dangers we fear for our children aren’t just in the streets or at school. They lurk behind screens, in algorithms, in the quiet corners of the internet where kids seek meaning and end up lost. It forces parents to face a brutal truth: our protection can’t stop at the front door—we have to be present in the digital world too.

This series isn’t entertainment. It’s a gut punch. A plea. A brutal but necessary confrontation with the reality of modern parenting. It makes you question everything—how well you really know your child, whether you’re asking the right questions, whether you’re paying enough attention. And the scariest part? Even when you do everything right, it might not be enough.

Adolescence is the kind of show that lingers long after the credits roll. It breaks you, but it also forces you to see what’s at stake. And as parents, that’s something we can’t afford to ignore.

Adolescence is an unflinching, gut-wrenching experience that every parent must watch.

P.S. Actor Stephen Graham’s personal investment in the project stemmed from a deep concern about the hidden struggles of modern teenagers, making the series not just a performance but a passion project driven by real-life fears and experiences.