The post Why Adolescence’s Long Takes Aren’t a Gimmick: Number 1 on Netflix appeared first on Consequence.
Number One on Netflix is a weekly spotlight on whatever is currently the most popular thing on the world’s most popular streaming service. Sometimes it’ll be a movie. Sometimes it’ll be a TV show. Whatever it is, a lot of people are clearly watching, and we’ll try to understand why with a quick review. Today, we’re looking at the stunning British crime drama Adolescence.
In terms of this year’s Emmys, Netflix may have this year’s Baby Reindeer figured out, as the new four-part British drama Adolescence has captivated the streaming platform’s global audience for two weeks now. Key to the show’s power, beyond standout performances from its ensemble (including Stephen Graham, Ashley Walters, Erin Doherty, and Owen Cooper), is its format: Each episode is told in real-time, with director Philip Barantini capturing the action in a single take — otherwise known as a one-shot, a one-er, or a long take.
Long takes, whether feature-length or just long enough to get our attention, are a proud film tradition, made iconic by greats like Alfred Hitchcock and Martin Scorsese. And as television has become more cinematic, frequent examples pop up there — as far back as 1998, Chris Carter was experimenting with the idea on The X-Files, and in the 2010s shows like True Detective and Mr. Robot also drew from their power.
One-ers can be seen as a bit gimmicky, an Everest for ambitious directors and cinematographers that doesn’t necessarily always add something to the story. However, in the case of Adolescence, it’s an approach that works brilliantly to elevate creators Jack Thorne and star Stephen Graham’s grim look at the aftermath of a 13-year-old girl’s murder — specifically, the impact it has on the community, the boy accused of murdering her, and his family.
There are two types of one-take projects: The kind which fully admit that the shot was not actually filmed in one go, and was stitched together during the post-production process — and the kind which do claim to be one continuous take. The longer the shot, of course, the more impressive the achievement.
In some ways, a well-executed one-er is a magic trick, the director-as-magician doing his or her best to preserve the secret of how it was done… at least on screen. After the fact, they’re usually quite excited to explain how they did it. In the case of Adolescence, this involved months of intensive rehearsal, up to 16 takes per episode, and some shenanigans involving the camera and drones that frankly break the brain a little.
Adolescence Number 1 on Netflix
Screenshot via X
The effort was really worth it in this case, because what’s so powerful about Adolescence‘s use of the device is the way it amplifies the deeply felt emotions of the story. In the first episode, the viewer is just as stunned as the Miller family by the cops invading their home and the crime being discussed, and because the characters and the audience all realizing what’s going on at the same time, there’s an instant connection made. Everyone involved just wants to understand what’s going on. Even if the truth ends up being quite horrible.
Another way where the format really elevates Adolescence is in the emphasis on details. This is especially prominent in the first and third episodes, which end up highlighting the kinds of legal procedures in place to protect minors accused of a horrific crime: Were this an episode of Law & Order, we’d skip right past the booking process to the interrogation room, but here we get the very grounded absurdity of a 13-year-old boy being torn from his bed, taken to the station, where he is… repeatedly offered a breakfast of corn flakes. It’s the sort of element that a more traditional crime drama would gloss over, but adds freshness to this story.
However they’re executed, what the long shot brings to the screen is something that can be hard to capture: Immediacy. And there’s something profound about the impact that has on Adolescence, specifically, due to its structure: The story of young Jamie and his family is told across four separate days, across a long period of time — slivers of these lives that combine to paint a full portrait.
Because of the stretches of time between each episode (from days to months) the real-time immediacy proves grounding, yet also contributes to a more epic feeling than anticipated. Details in the writing fill in just enough information to catch the audience up on what’s happened between installments… to the point where by the end, you feel the weight of these events as they stretch across time.
By depicting this story this way, Adolescence offers no easy answers, no confessions on the stand. As with so many awful things that happen in life, the Millers just have to deal with what’s happened. And here’s why it all matters: By being so deeply embedded with these characters, we see how it’s possible to keep living.
Adolescence is streaming now on Netflix.
Why Adolescence’s Long Takes Aren’t a Gimmick: Number 1 on Netflix
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