Kind of Adults
The moments that shape who we are are hard to pin down, but the final year of high school is a turning point. Kind of Adults begins here—when the safety of childhood slips away and the uncertainty of adulthood starts to take hold.
The film follows classmates over five years, tracing the emotional journeys of four central characters—Leo, Rose, Ákos, and Lola—as they navigate first loves, fractured friendships, and the pressure to define themselves in a shifting world. Leo and Rose’s intense, on-again, off-again relationship runs like a fault line, capturing the pain of letting go, while depression lingers beneath parties and chaotic nights. Ákos reflects on hiding his true self in school, facing both regret and clarity. Lola experiences the heartbreak of drifting from childhood friends, seeking connection first in fleeting relationships, then through bold, boundary-pushing art.
Their struggles unfold against late-night adventures, much filmed by the characters themselves. Initially living in the present, the weight of choices and adult expectations soon presses down. Their closeness offers comfort but also constrains them.
Rather than a conventional arc, the story moves in interwoven fragments, shaped by self-shot footage, observational scenes, and a sometimes emotional, sometimes minimalist score. The real drama is in what remains unspoken: a flicker of doubt, a private confession, a shared silence. Growing up rarely happens all at once—it arrives in small fragments.
Kind of Adults captures the raw, contradictory spirit of Gen Z, offering a personal glimpse into growing up when the future feels perpetually uncertain.
The film follows classmates over five years, tracing the emotional journeys of four central characters—Leo, Rose, Ákos, and Lola—as they navigate first loves, fractured friendships, and the pressure to define themselves in a shifting world. Leo and Rose’s intense, on-again, off-again relationship runs like a fault line, capturing the pain of letting go, while depression lingers beneath parties and chaotic nights. Ákos reflects on hiding his true self in school, facing both regret and clarity. Lola experiences the heartbreak of drifting from childhood friends, seeking connection first in fleeting relationships, then through bold, boundary-pushing art.
Their struggles unfold against late-night adventures, much filmed by the characters themselves. Initially living in the present, the weight of choices and adult expectations soon presses down. Their closeness offers comfort but also constrains them.
Rather than a conventional arc, the story moves in interwoven fragments, shaped by self-shot footage, observational scenes, and a sometimes emotional, sometimes minimalist score. The real drama is in what remains unspoken: a flicker of doubt, a private confession, a shared silence. Growing up rarely happens all at once—it arrives in small fragments.
Kind of Adults captures the raw, contradictory spirit of Gen Z, offering a personal glimpse into growing up when the future feels perpetually uncertain.