“Adolescence,” a four-part series on Netflix has been controversial among some commentators because one of the things it explores is masculinity. The show does delve into one 13-year-old boy’s attitude toward women. That’s because the boy committed the murder of a female schoolmate, somethin g that is pretty much known from the beginning of the series created and written by Jack Thorne and one of the show’s co-stars, Stephen Graham. The boy is questioned about his attitude towards women. Popular influencers like Andrew Tate, who takes a dim look towards women are mentioned in the script. The boy also speaks about how he thinks women look at him. There’s a lot of probing about masculinity, but none of it seems to have the judgmental or political slant found on several series. In “Adolescence,” ideas about masculinity, femininity, attraction between people, how one views himself and others, the way people behave towards each other, and how what children think, feel, or are influenced by may need more monitoring and discussion are all integral to a story that makes one think and consider what Thorne and Graham are bringing to their attention. “Adolescence” is unique among television series, streaming or otherwise because it explores so many angles and takes in account so many points of views. Each scene is searing in the information and insight it provides and the thoughts it provokes. The show does nothing less than explore a contemporary teenage world in which emojis, phrases, overt and bashful behavior, and reputation on social media have their own language and meaning. Everyone depicted in the series is affected by codes they must not understand, not even well enough for them to misinterpret them. Arriving March 12 at the special screening for “Adolescence” in London are cast members, from left, Jo Hartley, Amelie Pease, Owen Cooper and Ashley Walters. (AP Photo/Kin Cheung) Police, psychologists, teachers, parents may miss them altogether. But kids know what various symbols, phrases, buzzwords and codes mean. Some use such material meanly and nefariously, and others takes what is related among them via social media to heart. “Adolescence” excuses nothing. Rather, it surgically depicts what goes at one school in one English community that becomes a microcosm for teen existence around the world. Thorne, Graham and director Philip Barantini take their camera into many settings — police stations, schools, a juvenile detention center, a neighborhood, a family’s home — and reveal the intensity of situations by focusing carefully on the people who work in, inhabit, or are confined in those places. Every sequence of “Adolescence” is a mini-revelation about how people treat each other, how people respond to the difficult, how people internalize what they’re seeing and hearing, and how all of the above affects their attitudes, sensibilities and action. “Adolescence” is not so much a whodunnit or howdunnit, so much as close, personal examination of a horrible crime and how what led to the crime radiates to society in general. It indicts nothing, including masculinity. It depicts nakedly and unflinchingly, yet sensitively, to the point its viewers cannot help to see underlying tensions and conditions that can cause any of us to blow up and act extremely. Watching the first episode, I was most impressed with how the show handled individual points of view. Thorne and Graham seemed intent on letting you see how everyone was coping with his or her part of a sad event. Their choices were often surprising. The characterizations defied the stock traits found in most crime stories or police procedurals. One striking moment came when the young accused killer is placed in his first cell. You expect the camera to linger on him as he grasps and adjusts to his new reality. But no, the camera goes back to showing the professionalism of the police who arrested the youth. Another instance occurs after the interview in which the teen is questioned by his appointed solicitor and then the police. In most shows, the camera would stay on the boy to see his reaction. In “Adolescence,” the camera stays on the boy’s father, his “appointed adult,” the one there to monitor proceedings and comfort or advise the child if necessary. Those 10 seconds trained on the father tell a more important story of a man confused by his new role in his son’s life, his relations to the boy and the police, and his comprehension of all that happened. It’s amazing television. “Adolescence” is chocked with great moments. A police visit to a school reveals the kind of teasing that goes on there. One child, ironically the son of the detective investigating the case, is seen to be bullied and strong-armed for money on what must be a daily basis. An escorting teacher shows vast poise and understanding, calmly handing her duty while revealing the emotion inside. Children reveal themselves. They are direct and a bit cynical while speaking to then police or school authorities. They are guarded about the emojis that communicate more than one might expect in their world. “Adolescence” acquaints you with the inner working of everyone involved or affected by the murder. It ventures into every corner, probes every mind, and gets to all that lies underneath, obviously things like bullying, being confused about how to express sexuality, the danger of low self-esteem, the power of benign and direct ridicule, and the way situations may escalate quickly to catastrophe. The murder and his family defy stereotypes. The father and mother are solidly middle class. They may have tempers, but they rarely become loud or violent. The accused boy is smart and well-spoken. He follows directions. He controls emotions. He is even shrewd as he catches on how the police, and even his lawyer, fish for information. In a show that is a collection of excellent, absorbing scenes, the most amazing, telling, and mesmerizing is one that takes place seven months after the murder in the detention facility where Jamie, the alleged murderer (Owen Cooper) is meeting with a psychologist, Briony (Erin Doherty), appointed by the court to assess the boy’s understanding of his legal predicament. The scene goes from a carrot-and-stick game to the rawest of emotions, especially as you see Jamie alternatively charming, defiant, suspicious, conciliatory, plain-spoken and upset to the point of rage. So much happens in this scene, and it reminds you of how rich “Adolescence” has been in substance, intelligent, eking mileage from the unexpected, and showing us a world in which social media, reputation, and one’s vision of oneself has much weight. The series is as revealing about life in a small town in general. The final episode shows how Jamie’s family cannot settle into a new normal even though almost a year has passed, and they are trying to make the best of their lives. Earlier episodes show another father, the police inspector, question his relationship with his son, a relationship which he at one point tells a colleague is practically non-existent. Throughout “Adolescence,” people, whether students or professionals, cannot contain what they feel and let the camera see their pain and angst. “Adolescence” seems self-contained. The four episodes don’t invite a new season, unless a subsequent series probes a different crime or different incidence of teen pressure. I don’t know that there’s any mileage in seeing Jamie in prison, finding out if his family is ever allowed to cope, seeing if activists taking up Jamie’s cause make headway, or if the police inspector pays attention to his son in time to make him a stronger adult. It might be an accolade that Thorne and Graham have told their story so well, thoroughly, and engagingly, there is no more to tell. The acting in “Adolescence” is a good as Thorne and Graham’s writing and Barantini’s directing. Owen Cooper is remarkable as the usually soft-spoken but direct and aware Jamie. Erin Doherty should get strong Emmy consideration for her role as the psychologist trying to decipher how much Jamie comprehends. Stephen Graham is touching as Jamie’s father who brings flowers to an impromptu memorial of his victim and has his own breakdown when some teens in his town won’t let him live in peace. Ashley Walters is impressive as a police inspector of depth who does his job but wants to do it kindly and strives to understand a world beyond the community he serves. Here’s other shows to check out Perhaps we’re emerging from recent programming doldrums. The coming weeks offer several series that seem worth sampling. Jumping ahead to next Monday, April 7, ABC will launch an over-the-air showing of one of this winter’s better series, “Paradise,” which stars Sterling K. Brown and involves the investigation of a White House murder in which the president was killed. Actor Sterling K. Brown at an FYC screening of the Hulu television series “Paradise” on March 7, 2025, at the Saban Media Center in Los Angeles. (AP Photo/Chris Pizzello) On my list is a series that began streaming in its entirely this weekend, “Mid-Century Modern” starring Nathan Lane, Matt Bomer, Nathan Lee Graham, and the late Linda Lavin, the men being best friends who retire together to Palm Springs. I am somewhat cautious because the Hulu show is produced by Ryan Murphy, which could mean anything from fun to pandering disaster, but the cast encourages me, including guest stars Rhea Perlman, Richard Kind and Judd Hirsch. A Guy Ritchie production, “Mobland,” recently began on Paramount. It’s about a crime family concerned with who might succeed the patriarch (Pierce Brosnan). Sound familiar? The cast got me interested. It includes Helen Mirren, the great stage actor Paddy Considine, and “Downton Abbey’s” Joanne Froggatt. On Thursday, “The Bondsman,” a new series begins on Prime with Kevin Bacon as a bounty hunter who pursues escapees from the place consigned to evildoers after death. Justina Machado, who showed her range last year in ‘The Horror of Dolores Roach,” returns on Netflix on Thursday in “Pulse,” a hospital procedural. Again, it’s the cast, this time featuring Michelle Williams and Sissy Spacek, that attracts me to Hulu’s “Dying for Sex,” premiering Friday. Passing of early king of the mini-series Streaming has made television viewers accustomed to the limited series. Long before, when television was still a seven-channel world, the mini-series became the means for best-selling novels and extended stories to come to the little screen. Elizabeth Montgomery seems the queen of the early mini-series. The king was undoubtedly Richard Chamberlain, who starred in the original “Shōgun” as well as “The Thorn Birds,” “Centennial,” “The Count of Monte Cristo, “Wallenberg,” and others. Actor Richard Chamberlain during a news conference in Berlin on Oct. 10, 1995. (AP Photo/ Jan Bauer) Chamberlain was television’s version of a matinee idol when he premiered in NBC’s “Dr. Kildare” in 1961. His boyish beauty and fine acting earned him a following that lasted for much of his career. Though much associated with TV, Chamberlain was also a classic actor who played Shakespearean roles in the United States and in Europe. Later in his career, he appeared in the Broadway musicals, “The Sound of Music” and “My Fair Lady.” The handsome, versatile actor died on Saturday, two days shy of his 91st birthday. I interviewed him once and found Chamberlain as charming in person as he was on the screen. I admired how he took the success and wealth he derived from television and used it to give himself the opportunity to take theater roles and appear in person on Broadway and throughout the U.S. ...read more read less