Warning: Major spoilers for the show ahead.
“We made him,” the mother in Netflix’s gripping crime drama Adolescence tells her husband, her crushing guilt, and the burden of responsibility, apparent in her words.
Months after their 13-year-old son was arrested for the murder of his classmate, the couple are in a state of disbelief, struggling with the horrific realisation that their child is capable of such fatal cruelty. In a poignant scene in the fourth and final episode of the series, Eddie Miller (Stephen Graham) and his wife Manda (Christine Tremarco) collapse in each other’s arms, grappling with the painful question of why their son, Jamie (a riveting debut by Owen Cooper), decided to walk down this path.
Jamie’s dramatic arrest in the first episode, even as it shatters his family’s world, sets the stage for a story that moves with the intensity and tension of a theatre performance. There is no quick resolution, no tidy answers. Under director Philip Barantini’s unrelenting lens, the crime drama develops as a chilling examination of how an ordinary family is forced to confront the unthinkable.
At the outset of the series, Jamie’s crime comes across as a senseless act of violence. The officers processing his arrest repeatedly remark that he is a “bright” boy. His social and family background does not fit the stereotypical profile of a juvenile offender. So why, then, did he stab Katie Leonard to death? His motivations are as murky as the events surrounding them.
Even as the investigation unfolds, viewers are not offered easy answers. Instead, they are led deeper into the complexities of Jamie’s internal world, where pressures from society, the internet, and his peers collide with horrid consequences.
The concept for the series was reportedly inspired by a series of violent incidents that left a lasting impact on Stephen Graham, who co-created the show with the brilliant Jack Thorne. Graham also stars in the series, delivering a phenomenal turn as Jamie’s father, Eddie.
At the show’s premiere, Graham recalled the two incidents that fuelled the creation of the series—the tragic stabbing of 12-year-old Ava White by a 14-year-old boy in Graham’s hometown of Liverpool in 2021, and the 2023 attack on 15-year-old Elianne Andam by 17-year-old Hassan Sentamu, which took place in Croydon, UK. Figures from the Office for National Statistics in the UK suggest that in the past decade alone, the number of teenagers killed with a knife or sharp object has increased by 240%, from 22 to 53.
Adolescence, however, isn’t just about a single violent act. While tackling the rise of knife crime, it also delves into global issues such as cyberbullying, the harmful influence of social media, and the pressures young boys face today. Toxic masculinity, male rage, and online misogyny aren’t just plot devices. They are unsettlingly real issues.
Central to the series is its critique of the digital landscape that shapes modern youth. It sheds light, rather subtly, on how social media—and in particular the influence of online “manosphere” groups—distorts the minds of vulnerable young men.
“It’s the Andrew Tate shite,” one of the investigating officers, DS Misha Frank (Faye Marsay), says in the second episode, referring to the British-American influencer infamous for his extreme misogyny. Tate is now the poster boy of the manosphere, one of the many problematic ‘manfluencers’ in a large online world that profits from young men’s insecurities.
Curiously, Adolescence released just as news surfaced that Kyle Clifford—who committed the triple murder that would leave his ex-girlfriend, Louise Hunt, her sister and mother dead—had been searching for misogynistic podcasts and watching Tate’s videos hours before the crime.
The manosphere and the 80-20 rule
For those unfamiliar with this internet terminology, the ‘manosphere’ refers to an online network of forums, blogs, and communities centred on men’s issues, often promoting misogynistic views, toxic masculinity, and anti-feminist rhetoric. The content within the manosphere ranges from extreme misogyny found in ‘incel’ (involuntarily celibate) forums to more mainstream sexist content, such as dating advice videos that reinforce traditional gender roles for men and women.
But one might wonder, isn’t it all happening out there in the Western countries?
On the contrary, it is a story that could happen to anyone, and that is what makes it so terrifying.
This rise of online misogyny is very much a concern in India, where the manosphere has found its footing long back, luring many young men and boys into its toxic grasp.
In February, TNM published a deep dive into this digital ecosystem, looking into subreddits, 4chan forums, and X (formerly Twitter) profiles and talking to several self-identified misogynists and ‘incels’ across India. We spoke to boys and young men who are yet to realise they are starting to hate women, others who have moved past these harmful beliefs, and parents, teachers, and experts across India who are confused by the sudden rise of strong misogynistic views in young boys.
Adolescence’s Jamie, like many boys his age, spends hours in the online world, where toxic ideologies such as incel culture take root. These communities promote misogyny and resentment, and Jamie’s engagement with these ideas becomes a key factor in the unravelling of his mental state.
At one point, Jamie’s mother, Manda, recalls with regret how Jamie “never left his room.” “He’d come home, slam the door, straight up the stairs on the computer,” she recounts, stating how the light in his room would stay on very late into the night.
In the powerful third episode, where child psychologist Briony Ariston (Erin Doherty) goes head-to-head with a turbulent Jamie, the boy claims that he had a look at “the incel stuff” but didn’t like it. He, however, adds that he thinks “they are right about the 80-20 thing.”
For the uninitiated, the 80-20 rule is the pseudoscientific idea that 80% of women are attracted to only 20% of men. It suggests that women tend to prefer men with higher social or financial status and that a small group of men, called ‘alpha males,’ are the most desired. Incels, meanwhile, are men who believe they can’t form romantic or sexual relationships because of this perceived inequality.
Although Jamie insists he doesn’t “like the incel stuff,” certain remarks during his psychologist session reveal that he has absorbed more toxic values from the manosphere than he cares to admit.
In a chilling moment, Jamie recalls his attempt to ask Katie out after a topless photo of her is shared in a Snapchat group. He tells Briony that he thought Katie might be “weak” due to the online abuse she faced and that she would agree to go out with him because she was weak. This moment encapsulates the perverse logic of incel ideology, which teaches boys that they are entitled to female affection, that rejection is a matter of personal betrayal.
As the police investigate, they uncover a history of cyberbullying, including derogatory emojis and accusations of being an “incel” that only serve to deepen Jamie’s sense of rejection. All of this sheds light on the double-edged nature of the digital age. Yes, it offers unprecedented potential for human connection, but at the same time, it also provides an easy platform for cruelty.
A particularly disturbing scene unfolds as Jamie suddenly lashes out at the “dead pretty” psychologist, reflecting the explosive anger that simmers beneath the surface of his interactions. His outburst is followed by an unsettling apology—one that highlights his confusion and inability to process his emotions.
This is the horror that Adolescence projects. It doesn’t shy away from depicting the twisted mental state of a young man radicalised by toxic internet subcultures. It also does not offer easy answers about why young people commit such acts of violence. Instead, it paints a portrait of a broken society, where children like Jamie are left to grapple with their confusion and rage alone.
The series also explores, in painstaking detail, the emotional impact of the crime on those around Jamie. Katie’s friend Jade (Fatima Bojang) struggles to process their grief, while Jamie’s parents are left torn without answers, further deepening their sorrow.
Perhaps the most tragic element of Adolescence is the generational disconnect between parents and their teenage children. Jamie’s parents, like many adults, are bewildered by the forces that seem to have shaped their son. Eddie, in particular, seems to represent the confusion that many parents experience in today’s world, where traditional forms of communication and understanding no longer seem to work.
“Look at that fella that popped up on my phone, going on about how to treat women, how men should be men, and all that shit. I was only looking for something for the gym, weren’t I?” an exasperated Eddie says to his wife Manda at one point, wondering how they would have possibly kept an eye on their son all the time.
We see them ponder if they could have done anything to steer their son away from a path that led him to choose senseless violence over a promising future. They agonise over the computer they bought him, which he used late into the night. Should they have taken it away—or at the very least, checked on him more often?
The show suggests that the widening chasm between parents and children is a result of the digital age’s pressures. In a world where children are often online for hours, exposed to the chaos of the internet, adults are left to play catch-up. This is reflected in a scene in the second episode, where the DI Luke Bascombe’s (Ashley Walters) son Adam (Amari Bacchus) explains to his baffled father the meaning behind the various emojis posted on Jamie’s Instagram. The conversation serves as a reminder of how little many parents know about the digital spaces their children occupy and how essential it is to engage with them to better understand the influences shaping their beliefs.
A technical marvel
Perhaps the most striking feature of Adolescence is its technical achievement: each of the series’ four episodes is filmed in one continuous take. The effect is that it plunges the viewer directly into the chaos, forcing them to experience the characters’ discomfort, confusion, and dread in real time. There are no cuts to offer relief and no opportunity for the viewer to step away from the story. It traps us in the same spiral of emotions that the characters are experiencing.
As the series moves forth, it becomes clear that Adolescence is less a story about a crime than about the complex forces at play in the lives of young people today.
It is also a subtle commentary on the systemic failure that allows young people like Jamie to fall through the cracks. From the school and family units to even the justice system, every institution seems ill-equipped to address the deeper issues that contribute to his violence.
As the series comes to a close, it refuses to offer us closure. There is no neat resolution or cathartic moment where everything makes sense.
Instead, the show leaves viewers with a haunting question: How did we get here, and what can we do to prevent it from happening again?
Watch TNM’s Dhanya Rajendran and Lakshmi Priya sit down with two teenagers who share their firsthand experiences with peers exposed to manosphere content, shedding light on how they navigate this toxic and polarised world: