Review: We Are Who We Are (2020-) by Becca Roslyn

This eight-episode whirlwind takes you through the motions of an angst-fuelled teenage world in a way in which I’ve never seen television tackle before. With a narrative following our protagonist traversing a new city, due to his parents’ placement on Venuto military base, We Are Who We Are (2020-) intertwines a coming-of-age story of all that may affect a fourteen-year-old boy with the added hardships of the military dominated setting. This disorienting mix of constituents showcases exciting yet fear enveloped endeavours such as discovering gender identity, described profoundly within the show as a ‘revolution inside of you’. By giving Harper’s transition a platform, this enables a greater understanding of the complexities of queerness, normalising conversations of compassion amongst the community. Thus, I bestow a solid four out of five stars upon this show, to be explored in the following, with a light content spoiler warning. 

The friendship between Fraser and Harper blossoms on the foundations of supporting his newfound friend. Together, they undergo a series of deemed masculine duties of which Harper resides in awe of Fraser for such duties being expected of a cis male. A handheld shot exposes a beautiful realism in Fraser assisting Harper in shaving his face, mirrored again later in shaving away Harper’s long hair, both representing a sever of ties with any femininity. These scenes exaggerate the importance of cinematography as the audience is physically placed as though they are a friend witnessing one of the most pivotal milestones within Harper’s narrative, rooting for this character to successfully flourish into their most authentic self. The youthful exuberance elating from this scene creates an almost ecstatic euphoria, perpetuating the emotional high Harper gains from this noble and risky declaration of gender identity, alongside the friend who helps make it happen. With this, we audit the kindling of souls conjoining in a wholesome guide through his journey whilst Fraser himself discovers his own sexuality. In attaching ourselves to these characters, I felt thrown into these moments of euphoria then subjected to watch them become tainted. Such moments are slowly maimed by the anguish of the real-world when in conjunction to a carefree mind, then of this external world meeting complications of Fraser’s inner tumult. 

The auteurship of Guadagnino is cemented within this experimental series, with stylistic direction inviting a return of techniques from his Academy award-winning film, Call Me by Your Name (2017). We see a habitual exposition of cathartic scenes shrouded in coming-of-age nostalgia within an incandescent story of fear and pain most will never experience, and an exhilaration most yearn to reach- the characters slowly become thus whom you reside with. Guadagnino repeats his distinguished Italian setting in a daring, reckless, teenage haze of running away to see a concert in a different city, jumping fences in frivolous escapades and withholding specifics from your parents for the sake of it: fashioning a relatable premise of wild adolescence and hence, an affinity with the story, all whilst updating the genre to keep audiences in anticipation. 

Success! This mini-series transpired an active experience which stuck with me, predominantly out of fear of Fraser’s enigmatic outbursts. These eruptions transpire during a terrifying role reversal of the son establishing emotional dominance over his own mother, as disturbing declarations of Fraser’s innermost intrusive thoughts unravel. The juxtaposition of artistic shots displaying such jarring scenes made the experience aesthetically palatable alongside the ineffably thought-provoking plot, entangling the elements into a poetically visual and mental experience.  A favoured scene of mine is the screenshot of youth exemplified in Fraser and Harper running through a backdrop of fog, planning on hitchhiking to their location, taking no care for their own safety despite being two teenagers in the night. Hoping for a saving grace in residing with strangers encapsulates a particularly juvenile view of the world, taking no care for oneself yet placing too much trust in anyone else, in a thirst for experience of a world yet to be conquered. 

Furthermore, the casting of queer youth and people of colour in this show presents applaudable representation in modern media as fundamental in audience identification. We see Jordan Kristine Seamon, a gender fluid nineteen-year-old, transmit a performance of a lifetime in their acting debut playing Harper. Alongside Seamon, the recognisable Jack Dylan Grazer (It, 2017) accordingly portrays Fraser with astounding and intricate methods of body language. He outwardly mimics the emotional complexities of the role he takes on, so naturally presenting an anxiety ridden unnatural manner. His acting thus enables the audience to go through every single motion as and when it arises without overtly needing vocalisation, filling the scenes with more emotion than ever anticipated. Alongside Grazer, we see huge names debut such as Kid Cudi and Francesca Scorsese, with her father being someone whose opinion on the show I’d marvel to hear. 

Finally, it is my obligation to anatomise the abhorrent affair between our protagonist and an older soldier. I hope, for the sake of morality, that this was a scripted choice of a self-aware condemnation to establish the character in a predatory, villainised manner to thrust the naivety of Fraser into the limelight. However, having viewed Call Me by Your Name, I was indubitably fearsome of the relationship of the teen boy and a grown adult. This has been excused time and time again in the name of culture and nature of the adapted screenplay. However, if this is going to be a repeated feature of Guadagnino’s work, perhaps it is time to question these contemptuous power dynamics that come with such age gaps. 

We Are Who We Are, whether so desired or not, is a show nothing less than memorable in an intense and complex exhibition of the precarious turmoil of the mind.