I am not okay with this; except I definitely am

Netflix’s new coming-of-age series I am not okay with this throws at the screen teen angst and

cliché troupes in a refreshing tone full of awkward unique detail. It’s a brilliant homage to many

other coming-of-age dramas, with a bloody opening scene that instantly conjures up Carrie’s

shocking finale. Yet the seven-episode comedy-drama adds its own flair with just enough

changes that the storyline and characters don’t feel recycled. It’s all familiar, but in the best sort

of way with nostalgia that brings back second-hand embarrassment and flashbacks of adolescent

times that were hoped to be forgotten.

Sydney Novak—portrayed fantastically by 2017’s It star Sophia Lillis—starts the show running

through empty streets covered in blood, with each episode picking together with the pieces that lead

her there. Yet in the end, the final reveal leading to her bloody appearance isn’t what makes the

show so enjoyable—it’s the little details along the way that give insight into all the confusion felt

at such a pivotal time in life.

With episodes that rarely pass the twenty-minute mark, we quickly learn much about Syd: she

sports the common qualities of an awkward outcast with a dysfunctional family and a whole lot

of confusion surrounding her sexuality. It’s nothing new to the genre, yet Syd isn’t to be summed

up by a simple stereotype. She feels refreshingly real; from the acne on her thighs to the

awkward camera shots portraying her interactions with her equally awkward neighbour Stanley

Barber, portrayed by Lillis’ It co-star Wyatt Oleff. Syd maintains what it truly feels like to be

trapped inside the mind of a pubescent teenager. This leaves I am not okay with this with all the

quirks and charismatic qualities of a movie like Juno without giving the illusion that Syd is an

unappreciated ‘cool girl’. She’s noticeably uncomfortable in her own skin and it’s this blatant

portrayal of struggling to fit in that makes her new superpowers an extension of her personal

conflicts, rather than an opportunity to have her rise above her peers. Her powers are a

manifestation of her anger and play out as a hindrance rather than something special, adding all

the more pressure to blend in and be like everybody else. Just like being different feels daunting

in high school, Syd’s superpowers bring her additional anxieties that those not in her shoes might

not understand.

Lillis and Oleff both do a brilliant job bringing all these anxieties and emotions of growing up to

life, and director Jonathan Entwistle has a careful eye for tone and a niche for camera shots that

linger intentionally a little too long. Together with the grungy filters and retro colour schemes,

the show comes together to create something nostalgic and yet slightly new out of an already

well-known genre and plot. With the season finales big cliff-hanger leaving plenty of

unanswered questions, there is a lot of opportunities to build on the strong foundation I am not

okay with this has already created.

The greatest point of potential improvement for future seasons is the show's portrayal of Dina,

Syd’s best friend and love interest. Dina is pretty and kind, but her personality doesn’t fare too

far beyond that. Syd tells us in her narration of all Dina’s wonderful qualities, but it’s rare we get to see them–especially with the show focusing on a time in which Dina is distancing herself from

Syd in preference for her on and off boyfriend, the show's antagonist Bradley Lewis. It’s

understandable considering Dina and Brad’s relationship plays a pivotal role in pushing forward

much of the storyline. But it does leave her as one of the few two-dimensional characters that can

make it hard to love her as passionately as Syd does, and gives little room for actress Sofia

Bryant to leave an impression.

In Charles Forsman’s original comic of the same name—on which the series is based on—Syd

chooses to commit suicide, bringing the story to a tragic end. The show thankfully does not do

this, ending equally abruptly but on a cliff-hanger that alludes to a second season and the

potential for Syd to come to terms with her powers, her queerness and her suppressed grief and

anger. A positive change from the comic that leaves hope for its viewers without the depressing

implied message that there is no help for someone facing their own individual uniqueness while

struggling with mental health issues. But until a second season is confirmed by Netflix, I am not

okay with this presents a tightly packed and humorous return to puberty with a realistic approach to mental health, grief and sexuality. Oh, and superpowers.

Written by Zakhir Saibu