The Crisis in Focus: A Glimpse into the World of Young People’s Mental Health

Youth mental health has reached a crisis point, with staggering statistics that have been widely reported. In Australia, suicide is the leading cause of death among young people, and clinical depression has doubled since 2011. This crisis knows no borders; in 2021, the US surgeon general described it as “a youth mental health crisis.” But what does it mean to be a teenager today? What is the world like from their perspective?

Recent films at the Melbourne International Film Festival offer a nuanced and unflinching portrayal of young people struggling to cope with an overwhelming world. Marine Atlan’s La Gradiva, which won top prize at Cannes Critics’ Week, frames the story around a school trip to Pompeii. But it’s clear that this group of French students is grappling with far more than just ancient history; their sex lives are a primary concern, played out with raw brutality and emotional intensity.

Atlan’s film is notable for its authenticity. The director researched her story by going on a real school trip, listening carefully to conversations around her. “I have the impression that they are already confused by post-COVID,” Atlan says in an interview. This confusion is supported by numerous studies suggesting many students who spent their last school years under lockdown still find social situations difficult.

Another French film, Goodbye Cruel World, directed by Felix de Givry, offers a different perspective on the struggles of youth. This romantic story follows a bullied schoolboy who writes to everyone in his class before he attempts to take his own life. De Givry’s achievement is to convey the very real torment underlying Otto’s melodramatic hyperbole.

These films show that we’re not just talking about statistics or broad trends; we’re talking about individual lives, lived out in a world that seems both overwhelming and suffocatingly small. The characters are palpably living out unique dramas, each one struggling to make sense of their place in the world.

But what does this mean for us? What can we learn from these films about the state of youth mental health today? One thing is clear: we need to stop talking about this crisis as a social phenomenon and start engaging with it on a human level. We need to listen to stories that capture the complexity and nuance of young people’s experiences.

The statistics are grim, but they represent real lives, lost and struggling to cope. As we watch these films, we’re reminded that each one is a unique drama, played out against a backdrop of societal pressures and expectations. The question is: what can we do about it? How can we start to address the root causes of this crisis, rather than just treating its symptoms?

One possible answer lies in the way these films portray the impact of trauma on young people’s lives. In Blue Heron, directed by Sophy Romvari, we see the devastating effects of one boy’s “oppositional defiant disorder” on his family and community. This film gets to the heart of the issue: not just how we can fix it, but why it’s happening in the first place.

In a world where mental health is increasingly politicized, these films offer a rare glimpse into the lived experience of young people struggling with their emotions. They remind us that this crisis isn’t just about individual failure or societal collapse – it’s about the way we’re raising our children and the kind of society we’re creating for them.

As I watched these films at the Melbourne International Film Festival, I couldn’t help but think of Ross McElwee’s documentary Remake. This film, which took 14 years to make, is a deeply personal exploration of the director’s son Adrian, who died of a fentanyl overdose at the age of 27. McElwee’s story is one of love and loss, but it’s also about the complexities of family relationships and the ways in which trauma can reverberate through generations.

The crisis in youth mental health is complex, with no easy answers or quick fixes. But what these films show us is that there are stories to be told – stories that need to be heard, seen, and understood. We owe it to ourselves, our children, and future generations to listen to their voices and take action.

As I finished watching the last film of the festival, a sense of despair washed over me. The statistics are grim, the stories heartbreaking, and the task ahead daunting. But then I remembered something that Ross McElwee said in an interview: “The truth is, we don’t have to wait for someone else to make change happen.” We can start by listening – really listening – to the stories of young people struggling with their mental health today.