A continuous take or shot is one without any edits — no cuts or stitched-together moments, just one long sequence unfolding in real time. That’s how each episode of Netflix’s “Adolescence” was filmed.

Based on a true story, the limited series centers around the murder of 13-year-old Katie (Emilia Holliday) and her accused killer, fellow classmate Jamie Miller (Owen Cooper).

From the start, the series had me on the edge of my seat.

The first episode launches right into the investigation. The opening minutes show police barging into Jamie’s house, breaking down the door to arrest him and hold him for questioning.

Co-creator Stephen Graham portrays Jamie’s father, Eddie who pleads along with his wife in disbelief as they try to process what’s going on.   

It’s a pretty traumatic beginning. His parents insist that the police have got the wrong person as their home is being searched — because Jamie’s just a kid. How could he be capable of something like this?

We watch as Jamie is brought in and held at the station. The camera lingers on his young, scared face. His innocent demeanor is carefully presented and highlights how out of place he looks.

Cooper gave such a raw performance with his repeated insistence that he didn’t do it that I almost cracked. A small part of me started to feel bad for him and wanted to believe this was all a mistake.

That feeling was short-lived when, in the last 10 minutes of the first episode, the head detectives revealed surveillance footage of him in a parking lot, stabbing Katie to death. 

“Adolescence” was more about the why, than about the who.

It explores a deeply troubling epidemic, the impact of unregulated social media use on a young kid and the toxicity of distorted masculinity. 

Jamie killed Katie for many reasons. He had incredibly low self-esteem that stemmed from relentless bullying in and out of school; records revealing that Katie had called him an incel pushed him over the edge.

An “incel” is a term associated with an online community of young men who consider themselves unable to attract women sexually, according to Merriam-Webster.

It’s used as an insult, basically calling someone an involuntary virgin who, despite desiring one, blames, objectifies and denigrates women and girls as a result.

As the series continues, Jamie’s character becomes more layered, revealing a mask that conceals his fear, anger and alienation in a world that mocks and taunts him.

The third episode was by far my favorite.

We meet child psychologist Briony Ariston (Erin Doherty) who is conducting a pretrial assessment of Jamie. Their hour-long exchange is a standout part of the series.

Initially, their conversation is light, with some fun, nervous banter. But things quickly unravel. Ariston asks seemingly simple questions — about masculinity, his father and grandfather — that eventually trigger a breakdown.

The session ends with Jamie screaming, being dragged out of the room as he begs her to tell his dad that he’s “OK.”

Jamie knows what he’s done but hasn’t comprehended the finality of it and is terrified. He craves his dad’s reassurance but will never get it; he can never undo what he did.

Although Jamie remains a central character, the show doesn’t revolve solely around him — the last episode didn’t even feature him directly.

It takes place 13 months later, on Eddie’s 50th birthday, as the family tries to navigate life after the tragedy. Jamie calls his dad from the juvenile center to say he changed his mind — he is going to plead guilty to the murder charge.

Co-writer Jack Thorne explains the shift: “Jamie now knows what he’s done and what his future might be. That allows him to put his feelings in a box and close the lid on himself in some way.”

During the call, when Jamie realizes that his mother and sister are in the car, he becomes more hesitant and withdrawn. It’s a subtle cue — he trusts his father more than the women in his life.

As the show comes to a close, “Through the Eyes of a Child” is sung by the actress who portrayed Katie and plays over the final scene. Her voice carries the series to a haunting end, a reminder that her presence is never forgotten.

“Adolescence” is a powerful warning of the dangers of online spaces that prey on the most vulnerable and a more intimate look into the fallout they leave behind.