No matter how many decades have passed, most of us still recall the uncertain, euphoric and excruciating transformative period of teenhood. Netflix‘s new coming-of-age series, “Penelope,” created and co-written by Mel Eslyn and Mark Duplass, follows 16-year-old Penelope (a commanding Megan Stott), who leaves behind her structured, tech-filled world for life in the wilderness. If this doesn’t feel like Netflix’s typical YA fare, it’s because the streamer purchased the series from Duplass Brothers Productions, launching their new focus on indie television. “Penelope” paints a stunning picture of Washington State’s exquisite terrain, a testament to Nathan M. Miller’s cinematography. However, like its titular character, the eight-part drama never seems to know what it wants to say or do, culminating in a puzzling enigma of fragmented ideas.
“Penelope” opens during a silent dance party at a summer camp. The camera zooms in on Penelope as she sways to the beat of the music pounding in her ears through her headphones. With everyone else dancing around her, she stops suddenly, spotting a wolf in the trees just beyond the fringes of the dance floor. Almost as quickly as it appears, the wolf vanishes, and the blonde teen returns to her solo frolic. Still, something continues to nag at her conscience. The following day, still on the campgrounds, Penelope eases out of her bunk bed, careful not to wake the other girls in her cabin. Though she marches determinedly toward town, even assuring her mother via text that she’ll return in time to return home for her SAT course prep, Penelope has other plans.
Almost before she can think about it, the audience watches Penelope moving through the town’s general store, grabbing any camping equipment she sees. After an Apple Pay snafu, she purchases the $400 worth of equipment before turning off her phone’s location and marching toward her unplanned adventure.
Viewers watch as Penelope sneaks into North Cascades National Park (she has no money for the $80 camping fee). Along the way, she (luckily!) meets some kind, albeit odd, characters. Sam (Austin Abrams) is a traveling folk singer who awkwardly offers Penelope a place to sleep in his converted van. Later, she crosses paths with Alana (Krisha Fairchild), a tree-hugging environmentalist who reflects on the anguish of humans intervening in nature. Finally, there’s her connection with Peter (“The Penguin’s” Rhenzy Feliz), who is working to reconcile his Catholic faith with the chaotic world around him.
Penelope takes small nuggets from each of these encounters, but she’s mostly on her own. In the show’s endless minutes of dead space, audiences watch as she collects berries, goes fishing, swims in the stream, works to set up her tent, confronts some terrifying wildlife and everything in between.
There are several reasons why young people leave their homes — often, safety and lack of resources are central. Here, that doesn’t appear to be the case, which makes Penelope’s actions (at least from this millennial’s perspective) selfish, annoying and downright dangerous.
Still, the series is strongest when examining Penelope’s determination and patience with herself. Though she’s frequently overwhelmed and exhausted, the audience watches as Penelope speaks to herself gently, trying again and again to get a fire started or collecting the wood, twigs and ferns needed to build a cabin that is much better insulated than the flimsy tent she purchased. Usually, in narratives centered on teen girls, the characters berate themselves over small mistakes. Penelope’s ability to treat herself with kindness is refreshing, since it’s so rarely seen in young women on screen.
However, the teen’s determination is the sole throughline holding this story together. Moving at a snail’s pace with very little dialogue, “Penelope” would have been more evocative if it had been structured into a short film. Penelope is disgusted by the state of the world. Being constantly tethered to others through our phones and social media is unnatural. Yet, her rash (and prolonged) decision, which undoubtedly destroys her family unit, especially her mother, remains too far-fetched to be believable. Also, because Eslyn and Duplass aren’t offering viewers more context than a privileged girl navigating the wilderness, “Penelope” gets rather dull and repetitive.
Exploration and self-discovery are paramount to stepping toward adulthood. “Penelope” wants to illustrate what it means to carve out a life on your terms. Yet, without a clear plan or an ability to look beyond herself, Penelope simply ties herself to the whims of the universe and winds up even further away from her desired destination.
“Penelope” premieres on Netflix Sept. 24.