The series Adolescence has captivated audiences with its unflinching portrayal of sensitive issues, bringing a formerly taboo subject to the forefront of cultural conversation. While this brand of gritty realism is a hallmark of British drama, few series execute it as powerfully. However, the BritBox drama Sherwood matches the intensity of Adolescence with its own uncompromising exploration of relevant social issues and the harsh realities of life, creating a viewing experience that is both pertinent and deeply unsettling.
Set in a small, ordinary village on the edge of Sherwood Forest, the series uses its relatable backdrop to elicit a powerful response from the audience. Much like Adolescence, Sherwood throws viewers directly into its inciting incident, forgoing traditional setup to create a disorienting, real-time experience. The resulting tension is palpable as the community grapples with a tragic event, making Sherwood one of the few shows to effectively capture the stark brutality of violence and its devastating impact on a community.
Inspired by two murders that occurred in Nottinghamshire in 2004, Sherwood is set against the lingering fallout of the UK miners’ strikes of the mid-1980s. While the series outlines the necessary historical details, its focus remains personal and human-centric. The narrative centers on the deep-seated division between those who picketed and those who continued to work, derisively labeled “scabs.” Decades after the industrial action ended, this sense of betrayal and animosity continues to simmer beneath the surface, eventually boiling over and culminating in the show’s first murder.
The initial death in Sherwood arrives as a shocking climax to the first episode. The series skillfully establishes the victim’s central role in the tribalism surrounding the strikes, leading characters and viewers to immediately suspect the murder is connected to the historical conflict. Rather than constructing a prolonged mystery, the show quickly reveals its killer, Scott Rowley (Adam Hugill). In a narrative choice similar to Adolescence‘s handling of Jamie (Owen Cooper), the focus shifts from the crime itself to the perpetrator’s psyche and motivations.
Sherwood delves into the mindset of its young attacker and the family that raised him. The story explores the aftermath through the eyes of Scott’s parents as they question their own decisions and confront what their child has done. This focus on the human response to tragedy, rather than the event itself, becomes the driving force of the narrative.
By prioritizing layered storytelling over conventional suspense, Sherwood transcends the crime drama genre. It offers an intimate look at the enduring after-effects of political conflict, with camera work that emphasizes the physical and emotional closeness of the fractured community. The show’s grounding in modern history allows it to explore extreme subject matter without resorting to sensationalism.
Just as viewers of Adolescence responded to its honest, almost invasive, portrayal of a national crisis, Sherwood achieves a similar poignancy by merging personal tragedy with the wider issue of masculinity in crisis. It provides a sociopolitical lens on tragedy without becoming bogged down in exposition. The result is a strikingly bleak depiction of how death ripples through a community, powerfully illustrating the invisible ties between past and present and the emotional weight of legacy and loyalty.
