In a sentenceThe jokes in Adult Material make the questions about consent harder to sit with
Jolene Dollar (Hayley Squires) is at the centre of a drama about the porn industry, where questions of sex, consent and power resist straightforward answers. Around her are Amy (Siena Kelly), Rich (Joe Dempsie), Tom Pain (Julian Ovenden) and Carroll Quinn (Rupert Everett). Across four episodes, the series brings comedy into contact with darker material, examining an industry in which personal choices cannot easily be separated from the circumstances in which people make them. Lucy Kirkwood writes and Dawn Shadforth directs, with Kerry Godliman appearing as Stella Maitland.
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Hayley Squires gives Adult Material its compelling centre. This messy, funny drama about pornography takes consent and power seriously without prescribing a simple moral response, though its crowded approach sometimes weakens the effect.
Adult Material is worth watching for Hayley Squires and for its willingness to make a difficult subject funny without pretending that laughter settles anything. Written by Lucy Kirkwood and directed by Dawn Shadforth, it approaches pornography through questions of consent, work and power. The result is gripping, sometimes untidy television. We recommend it with a reservation about how much it tries to accommodate within four episodes.
Squires, playing Jolene Dollar, provides the strongest reason to stay with it. Her performance gives the competing concerns a human centre, which matters when the subject so readily invites people to arrive with their conclusions prepared. We found ourselves unsettled by the proximity of humour to questions about consent: the laughter offers no comfortable distance from what is being discussed. That discomfort is productive, and Squires keeps it from becoming merely an exercise in provoking a response.
Kirkwood’s writing is strongest when it allows comedy and darker material to occupy the same drama without making either seem like an interruption. There is room to laugh, and room to reconsider what made something funny. The refusal to supply a simple moral judgement also helps the characters remain worth attending to. A drama about this industry would become tedious quickly if everyone existed only to prove the writer right.
The reservation is messiness, and it is more than a complaint about tidiness for its own sake. With sex, consent and power all demanding attention, the series sometimes leaves us wanting a more sustained examination of one question before moving towards another. Shadforth’s direction has to accommodate those competing demands, while Dominic Leung’s editing has the difficult task of giving them proportion. The drama remains involving, but involvement does not always bring clarity.
The same question of proportion applies to the visual and musical work: cinematography by Chloë Thomson, production design by Grenville Horner and music by Hannah Holland. In a drama about pornography, how people are presented deserves as much scrutiny as what they say. Our strongest response here is to the acting and writing; we would not make the photography, settings or music the main reason to watch. The people hold our attention more firmly than the presentation around them.
The cast also includes Siena Kelly as Amy, Joe Dempsie as Rich and Kerry Godliman as Stella Maitland. Squires nevertheless remains the performance around which our judgement of the programme turns. That dependence is both a strength and a limitation: the series has a compelling centre, but its broader concerns are not equally well resolved. Kirkwood’s willingness to leave difficult questions open is welcome; the occasional sense of too many questions competing is less useful.
Against the familiar expectations of an issue-led drama, Adult Material earns its place by allowing humour, discomfort and uncertainty to persist together. It does not need a cleaner moral message. It could use greater discipline in deciding what deserves the most attention. Try it for Squires, provided a drama that leaves difficult conversations unfinished sounds like an evening well spent.
The critic finds the miniseries balances the complexity of its premise. They praise its ability to make room for laughs alongside its darker material.
Read the full review →The critic finds the series messy but gripping, original, and clear-eyed about the porn industry. She singles out Hayley Squires’s mesmerising performance and the drama’s refusal to impose a simple moral message.
Read the full review →The review presents the series as both shocking and funny. It highlights the questions it raises about sex, consent and power.
Read the full review →
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