Lily Gladstone Stars in 2024’s Most Haunting Show

Teenagers are horrible, we know that. It’s a tornado of hormones, pheromones, acne, adolescence, mood swings and, frankly, bad taste. But, at least most of the time, teenagers are pretty harmless; most of those I’ve met are too busy scrolling through TikTok at the highest volume to worry about the issues of popularity and superficial beauty that preoccupied young people 20 years ago. (Unless you don’t have a different colored Stanley Cup for every day of the school week, in which case you’re basically a microorganism in the eyes of the average teenager.)

But things were different in 1997. Popularity was defined by who owned the new Biggie CD and which parents had the most money. Growing up in the ’90s was brutal, and that all-consuming – and all-too-familiar – ferocity is clearly visible in Under the bridge, Hulu’s new limited series premiering April 17. The series, based on author Rebecca Godfrey’s 2005 book chronicling the events, dramatizes the true story of a brutal crime that occurred in the fall of 1997, which captivated a sleepy Canadian province and sparked a storm of attention media laser-focused on the teenagers at the center of it all. And while its two adult leads, Riley Keough and Oscar nominee Lily Gladstone, are certainly compelling as the two adult women involved in the investigation, it’s the teen actors who run away with the series. They give the show a disturbing and deeply harrowing sense of volatility and violence, which makes Under the bridge almost impossible to look away.

In November 1997, the body of 14-year-old Reena Virk (starred in the series by Vritika Gupta) was found on the banks of Gorge Inlet in Saanich, British Columbia. The chaos that followed was unlike anything people in the greater Victoria, British Columbia region had ever experienced before. “The story will haunt the island for years to come,” Rebecca Godfrey (Keough) says in voiceover in the opening moments of the premiere. “It forever changed a fact that once seemed so immutable, so fundamental: the young girls of Victoria we were meant to protect, not against. » This feeling initially seems melodramatic and paranoid, perhaps even a little prosaic. But this seems intentional, given that it mirrors the way Godfrey writes the first-hand accounts in his book, in which Godfrey details his visit to Victoria as an adult. She returned to the town where she grew up to write a book remembering the unique culture of her youth. Little did Godfrey know that she would find herself confronted with a heartbreaking crime, already in progress.

Under the bridge changes some of the names involved in Reena’s murder as well as some of the story to make it a more dramatic adaptation. While some may find these edits objectionable — especially since Virk’s murder sparked a national moral panic in Canada, leading to excess reporting on teenage bullying and aggression — they ultimately contribute to the broader thematic framework of the series. While bullying may not be as pervasive in conversations as it was a decade ago, any high school student will be able to point you to the source of their student body’s cruelty. That’s how teenagers are. These are not all honest pictures of unshakable morality. Sometimes children are inhumanely vicious.

The series takes off when it delves deeper into the disturbing nuances of this kind of adolescent nastiness. Alternating between two timelines – before and after Reena’s murder – we follow three of Reena’s attackers: Josephine Bell (Chloe Guidry) and her two subordinates, Dusty (Aiyana Goodfellow) and Kelly (Izzy G.). The three met at Seven Oaks, a local foster home for young girls, which Kelly has since left after rectifying her relationship with her family. But for Joséphine and Dusty, things are not so simple. To cope with their trauma, they wear misplaced aggression on their sleeves. Acting tough, being violent, and defying authority gets them what they want. They use the fear their behavior evokes as a bargaining chip; it is their cultural cache that takes them deeper into the depths of Victoria’s corrupt youth and lost innocence.

Darko Sikman / Hulu

Someone who knows everything about this hidden world – or, at least, thinks he does – is Cam Bentland (Gladstone), a local police officer who followed in his father’s footsteps and joined the force after high school. Cam is very familiar with the workings of Victoria’s youth, having spent time at Seven Oaks during her teenage years. Today, Cam has swung in the other direction, working as a member of the state-sponsored forces that once controlled his life. Watching his character overcompensate for his troubled youth while dealing with a growing distrust of the local police is a fascinating tightrope act. Additionally, Cam has a history with Rebecca, and their mutual involvement in Reena’s murder creates an intriguing, if sometimes manufactured, dynamic between the show’s two leads.

Keough is nervous and unpredictable as she tries to navigate the dark temptations of this relationship, while Gladstone is just as stoic and forceful as she was in last fall’s episode. Flower Moon Killers. Although Godfrey wrote the first Under the bridge, her character sometimes takes a back seat to the narrative, especially as she delves deeper into the lives of the adolescents she studies. The series strives to keep its adult characters present while actively centering Reena and Josephine, asserting that it is largely a story of their mutually tragic and troubling lives. Gupta is particularly heartbreaking as Reena, whose life is filled with crushing uncertainty and adolescent volatility. As one of the only Indian students at her school, whose family is deeply religious, Reena is the subject of intense and unrelenting bullying. This situation is only made worse by the pressure to fit in among Josephine and her band of lackeys, who call themselves the CMC (“Crip Mafia Cartel”). Watching his story unfold is like staring into a black pit of doom: if you look too far over the edge, there is no way out.

But it’s Guidry’s Joséphine who steals the show here, even away from veteran powerhouses like Gladstone and Keough. His performance is both shocking and completely recognizable; Josephine has the undeniable essence of every troubled teenager I went to high school with, who presents their mistakes as anarchic victories. Guidry’s distressing performance is completely beyond his years. She assesses each situation and her interactions are studied, calculated and executed with astonishing precision. In all my years of watching teenagers misbehave on television, no one has struck fear into my heart like Guidry does in Under the bridge.

But it’s not just that she can command the screen of someone twice her age, or convey so acutely the presence of a teenage tormentor. Guidry’s performance also represents the innate knowledge of someone who has been so torn apart by life – at such a young age and with no real direction – that there is no way out but to imitate violence. ruthless that she knows. Fortunately, Guidry is so talented that she makes this feeling perceptible without trying to make Josephine sympathetic. Whether this person, who participated in horrific crimes, deserves any compassion is a choice left to each viewer. What’s important is that the question remains on the audience’s mind throughout the show, and Guidry is such a talented young actor that the answer is never entirely clear.

Under the bridge boldly asks the audience to consider a broad picture of evil, filled with completely different perspectives. As haunting as it often is and as huge as it will leave in your stomach, it’s a non-traditional approach to a true crime story that encourages radical care and love. Perhaps if there were more of them in the world, such discouraging stories wouldn’t need to be told.