Analyzing “Big Time Adolescence” (2019): Monroe’s Villainy and Zeke’s Underrated Humanity
Recently, I finally had the opportunity to watch “Big Time Adolescence,” and I must say, it left a significant impression on me. The film offers a compelling portrayal of youth, mentorship, and the complexities of personal growth. One of the standout aspects was Pete Davidson’s performance; he convincingly depicted a character that initially appears as a stereotypical dropout, yet reveals surprising depth and charisma. Davidson’s portrayal made it believable that a young teenager could idolize such a flawed but charismatic figure.
The narrative centers around Zeke, a 23-year-old college dropout leading a transient lifestyle marked by partying and substance use. His existence takes an unexpected turn when he assumes a mentorship role for Monroe, a 16-year-old boy who is the younger brother of Zeke’s ex-girlfriend. Zeke’s guardianship spans six years, beginning when Monroe is just ten years old. Throughout this period, Zeke acts as a protective older brother, offering guidance and companionship.
Monroe increasingly looks up to Zeke, frequently visiting his house and engaging in activities with his older friends. As he seeks to emulate Zeke’s rebellious persona, Monroe begins selling marijuana and ends up making a series of poor decisions—leading to school expulsion and the loss of a romantic interest. In the film’s closing scenes, Zeke is seen working a menial job as Monroe drives away, symbolizing Monroe’s journey towards independence and self-discovery, while Zeke is left reflecting on their shared history.
However, amidst the compelling storytelling, I find myself challenged by certain narrative choices—particularly regarding the portrayal of Monroe’s development and Zeke’s role. The film appears to frame Monroe’s maturation as a kind of triumphant departure from Zeke, suggesting that Zeke, as a “loser,” was holding Monroe back. But I believe this perspective oversimplifies and unfairly diminishes Zeke’s true value and loyalty.
Throughout the film, Zeke demonstrates unwavering loyalty and genuine care. He treats Monroe with brotherly affection—defending him, offering sanctuary, and risking his own well-being to protect him from the law. Notably, Zeke overlooks Monroe’s betrayal, such as sleeping with his ex and selling drugs, choosing instead to focus on his role as a mentor and protector. His willingness to take responsibility for Monroe’s actions underscores his dedication.
Conversely, Monroe’s behavior toward Zeke reveals a superficial use of their relationship. Monroe exploits Zeke to boost his social standing at school and detaches himself when faced with the real-world consequences of his choices. When Monroe is expelled and faces minor repercussions, he immediately discards Zeke, dismissing their long-standing friendship because he views Zeke as “beneath” his future aspirations. This abrupt end is made even more painful by Zeke’s sincere grief and confusion—highlighting the emotional toll of long-term loyalty ignored.
This dynamic raises important questions about maturity and self-awareness. Monroe’s perceived growth seems to mere physical and social elevation, neglecting the emotional maturity required to appreciate and maintain genuine relationships. The moral of the story could have been richer if Monroe had recognized the importance of setting boundaries with Zeke—acknowledging his loyalty while understanding his own limitations. Such boundaries might have preserved their friendship and allowed Zeke to find his own path, reflecting a more nuanced journey into self-respect and growth.
Personally, I also felt disappointed that the film’s ending left Zeke somewhat directionless. Despite his charisma and intelligence, he appears to lack a clear trajectory. His character possesses the potential for meaningful development—perhaps finding stability or purpose beyond the reckless lifestyle. The narrative missed an opportunity to explore Zeke’s evolution beyond his immediate circumstances, potentially illustrating that his journey toward adulthood could have commenced after high school, emphasizing that even those considered “losers” have future possibilities.
In conclusion, “Big Time Adolescence” offers powerful insights into mentorship, loyalty, and the turbulence of adolescence. Yet, it also invites viewers to consider the deeper complexities of human relationships. Zeke’s character exemplifies loyalty and kindness—a reminder that true maturity includes recognizing one’s worth and the value of those who stand by us. Monroe’s story, while compelling, perhaps could have benefited from a more nuanced portrayal of growth—one that respects the loyalty of those who choose to support us, even when they are imperfect.
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