Rocks

Sarah Gavron’s Rocks (2019) is a vibrant and deeply empathetic exploration of girlhood, resilience, and the vital importance of female mutual aid networks. Set against the bustling, multicultural backdrop of East London, the film follows Olushola (nicknamed “Rocks,” played by Bukky Bakray), a fifteen-year-old Black British girl who finds herself suddenly thrust into adulthood when her mother, suffering from a mental health crisis, disappears, leaving Rocks to care for her younger brother, Emmanuel. Rather than succumbing to a “poverty porn” narrative, Gavron utilizes a collaborative creative method—developed through extensive workshops with its young, non-professional cast—to deliver a story that pulses with the authentic energy, slang, and sisterhood of modern urban youth. Rocks’ struggle to evade the cold, bureaucratic reach of social services becomes not just a race for survival, but a testament to the informal support systems that marginalized communities build when the institutional state fails them.

The film serves as a powerful testament to the politics of female friendship and collective care. As Rocks navigates her crisis, it is her circle of friends—a diverse group reflecting the rich tapestry of London’s immigrant communities—that provides the financial, logistical, and emotional scaffolding necessary to keep her family together. The bond between Rocks and her best friend Sumaya (Kosar Ali) is particularly poignant, showcasing a relationship built on mutual protection and shared vulnerability that transcends the binary of “leader” and “follower.” By centering these young women’s agency, the film critiques how the adult world and the social security system often ignore the subjectivity of adolescents, particularly girls of color. Rocks’ resilience is not portrayed as a natural strength but as a necessary and exhausting labor, highlighting the emotional cost of “parentification” and the structural injustice that forces children to become their own architects of safety.

Cinematically, Rocks employs a handheld, documentary-style aesthetic that captures the raw texture of East London life with a sense of urgency and intimacy. The camera lingers on the small, tactile moments of Joy—shared snacks at school, dancing in bedrooms, and the chaotic play of Rocks and Emmanuel—which serve as a radical refusal of the grimness often imposed on stories of poverty. This visual vibrancy, combined with the naturalistic performances of the cast, creates a “bottom-up” narrative that honors the specific cultural hybridity of its protagonists. Ultimately, Rocks is a triumphant assertion of intersectional feminism, proving that even in a world designed to fragment and marginalize them, the solidarity and creativity of young women can create spaces of belonging and hope. The film ends on an open, bittersweet note, acknowledging that while systemic problems remain, the radical act of caring for one another is the most enduring form of resistance.