PEN15 is the Messy Version of Girlhood We All Deserve 

By Amanda Kang

As the topic of girlhood continues to trend in 2024, we are seeing feminist films like Barbie and Mean Girls empower a more polished and marketable version of femininity. The women are conventional heroines whose stories of empowerment have clean endings and clear morals. While I enjoyed watching these movies, they got me thinking about the times when girlhood is messy and gross in media. I think it is especially well done in one of my favorite series, PEN15. Co-created by Maya Erskine and Anna Konkle, PEN15 portrays the painful reality of growing up. For me, it feels like the first piece of media I saw that truly wasn’t afraid to tell an unromanticized coming-of-age story starring young women. It demonstrates the importance of showcasing the unfiltered experiences of women in media as a counterbalance to the popular narratives of more idealized femininity.

In the same vein as series such as Big Mouth or Sex Education, PEN15 does not shy away from the inherent grossness and discomfort that comes with growing up. The show follows best friends Maya and Anna, played by adults Erskine and Konkle, finding their way through the world at age 13. While it is a comedy, PEN15 goes much deeper into the complexity of adolescence. Episodes range from laugh-out-loud hilarious and cringeworthy to dramatically stunning. Having adults play the two leading characters allows for much more artistic freedom to explore more taboo subjects explicitly. There is also the inherent absurdity of Erskine and Konkle acting alongside an age-appropriate cast.

For me, PEN15 is groundbreaking because of the way it uses adolescent discomfort to fuel storylines. Aspects of girlhood that have been historically stigmatized, such as first periods or masturbation, become genuine plot points, just as they are in the lives of many young women. Further, while girlhood is the context for the comedy of PEN15, it is never the punchline. Erskine and Konkle allow their audience to empathize and identify with their characters. As a former 13-year-old girl, I feel for these characters as they chase after their first kisses, fight over things as ridiculous as a middle school band concert, and, more than anything, desperately wish to be any other age than the one they currently are. Now, more or less into my adulthood, I have enough hindsight to laugh with these characters while also becoming more empathetic towards my 13-year-old self. Erskine and Konkle demonstrate that girlhood in television does not need to be idealized to be compelling.

And this does not just apply to the two lead characters. In season two, “Yuki,” follows Erskine’s on-screen mother, played by her real mother Mutsuko Erskine, on an unexpectedly eventful day in her life. I cannot think of the last time I saw an older woman, especially an older immigrant Asian woman, act as the centerpiece for a full episode of television. The episode is poignant, funny, and engaging, exploring the “what might have been” of Yuki’s life and the beauty of her present as well. In it, we meet Yuki’s ex-husband and learn about her career in Japan in the music industry. Through this exploration, we come to understand Yuki’s complexity beyond the perception of her children. By this point in PEN15, I was very used to seeing the world through the adolescent eyes of the characters of Maya and Anna, so this episode was surprising both in subject matter and tone. However, I think that is what makes it so effective. It completely changes the way we view Yuki as a character, exploring how we often view mothers as one-dimensional caretakers.

Further, I especially appreciated Erskine and Konkle’s attention to representation in casting. With the lack of older women, in particular, older women of color in Hollywood, they went to the person who had the life experience of that character type, knowing that it would create an authentic performance. The viewer can feel that authenticity and vulnerability in this episode and throughout the entire series. 

On the topic of motherhood, the exploration of Anna’s parents’ relationship also creates an illuminating portrait of her mother. At the beginning of the series, we see Anna’s mother, played by Melora Walters, as a more volatile and irresponsible figure. However, throughout the series, the viewer realizes alongside Anna how this vilified impression of Anna’s mom is taken from her father’s gaze. This powerful experience subtly demonstrates the power of the male gaze, especially in parental figures, on young women and how it often destroys the relationships with female figures in our lives. Truly, it will make you want to go and hug your mom.

All of this stands in contrast to other depictions of girlhood in cinema. Specifically, I think about Barbie this year and how it both celebrates and breaks down our conventional image of womanhood. I am not here to deem one narrative more authentic than another. In its own right, Barbie is a very impactful piece, but I think that it is less so due to a lack of media that explores the less idealized version of femininity, like PEN15. Both forms of media are necessary, especially for such a marginalized group in the entertainment industry. I do particularly look forward to more creators taking on the project of girlhood in all of its authentic messiness.