Set in a British boarding school in the year 2034, Storm is a two-part short film and song created by Gener8tion, a multimedia music project by French producer Surkin, and directed by Romain Gavras (Le Monde est à Toi). Surkin and Gavras state that, “At the heart of the project lies an enduring question: what survives, and what doesn’t?" Stormexplores this question of survival, through themes of boyhood, youth, violence, and masculinity. 

Removing phones from the picture, the film gets beneath the surface of its protagonists, exploring the struggles of male adolescence that exist beyond the online world. When so much attention is focused on the recent rise of the manosphere, figures like Andrew Tate, and increasingly extreme ideas around masculinity - from ‘looksmaxxing’ and bone-smashing to get-rich-quick schemes and misogynistic content - we risk missing the more interesting question: why do these messages resonate in the first place? Do they stick because they tap into deeper insecurities boys grow up with - the need to be strong, successful, attractive, wealthy and in control? 

This is where Storm stands out as a powerful piece of visual storytelling subtly exploring how young men navigate identity and belonging when growing up. Though set in 2034, the film feels strangely mid-2010s with its slightly dated school uniforms, traditional-looking classrooms, and complete absence of technology, hinting that pressures around gender performance have persisted long before there was an influencer or algorithm to blame.

Part I follows rapper Yung Lean, portrayed as a volatile, drug-taking, intimidating school bully with a commanding presence. In the absence of teachers or other adults, he emerges as the only meaningful authority figure. This decision allows the film to focus exclusively on the hierarchies that typically govern school cultures and male adolescent relationships. The result is a world in which status is understood through displays of dominance.

The film begins with the rapper entering a school hall where his classmates lie motionless across the floor in their uniforms. As he wanders into the middle of the room, we see them start to move as if attuned to one another. What follows is a sequence of aggression.

I was reminded of how grim and relentless schools can be. It's easy to dismiss the experiences of teenagers, especially when framed as a period of life fuelled by hormones that will eventually pass. Yet, those six years can be some of the most formative, grounding many initial understandings and beliefs. The violence that then goes on can shape the people we become. 

The film captures the unspoken social dynamics at play. We see Yung Lean fix his gaze on a wide-eyed, timid-looking classmate before forcing his head into the toilet and flushing it - a form of bullying often portrayed in films from the early 2000s. We see his followers join in as if chasing his approval, while Yung Lean’s subtle praises suggest his own reliance on their loyalty. Later, he starts a fight in the locker room. When the other student punches back, the action is met with celebration from the boys. These fleeting moments reveal how much our actions are reinforced and rewarded by the people around us.

It brings to mind a line from Grayson Perry’s book, Descent of Man: “We never know when we are being observed so we constantly keep watch on ourselves and each other; we are the authority figure and the prisoner.” When I watch Part I, I’m struck by a strange sense of connection among the male students. From the glances exchanged, the performances of toughness, and the desire to appear reckless, it becomes clear that these behaviours are not simply individual choices. 

This sense of collective identity comes into focus in Part II. Framed as a school photograph, the boys stand together in uniform with Yung Lean centred, without a blazer, staring directly into the camera. The next four minutes give way to a perfectly synchronised, almost hypnotic, dance sequence choreographed by Damien Jalet. 

The scene itself took social media by storm, going viral on Instagram. Many were taken aback by this group of young men moving together, expressing themselves collectively in a way that feels both vulnerable and powerful. It challenges the idea that strength can only be found through control, toughness, or restraint. The contrast between the violence and aggression seen throughout Part I with the dance routine in Part II highlights two very different forms of expression and models of masculinity. 

As the song lyrics chant, “We stay united through the storm,” the film ends on a note that feels surprisingly optimistic. Rather than presenting masculinity as an inevitable cycle of violence and repression, Storm seems to suggest that behaviours are shaped by those around us: schools, friendships, families and communities all play a part. The film suggests that these environments can also be sites of change, where new values and cultures can be created and enforced. Perhaps the question then is not only what happens during the storm, but what comes after. 

Stepping back from 2034 to 2026, the UK’s first-ever Boys’ Education Commission was launched earlier this year in June. Chaired by former headteacher and Tony Blair strategy adviser Peter Hyman and hosted by the Centre for Policy Research on Men and Boys, the Commission is tasked with understanding the modern day experiences of boys (and girls) in education and exploring what can be done to create more supportive systems.

Currently, boys are underperforming at every stage of education relative to girls. This is not unique to the UK but reflected in assessment data across OECD countries. Research suggests that boys begin falling behind at age 5, and by 15, around one in three fail to reach baseline reading proficiency, compared to one in five girls. Boys also account for most school exclusion and suspension rates. Looking at education in its widest sense, the Commission aims to explore not just how boys succeed academically, but also how education can develop skills needed to build healthy relationships and a strong sense of purpose. Due to report in April 2027, it will set out policy recommendations shaped by conversations with students, teachers and researchers. 

Storm doesn't necessarily try to answer what it means to be a teenage boy today. Instead, it highlights an environment, atmosphere, and set of social dynamics. In its own way, the Boys' Education Commission is asking how schools can create fewer moments like those in the toilet or locker room, where boys feel they must perform, compete, or prove themselves. How we answer that question will shape not only the wellbeing of young men but also the relationships they form and the experiences of those around them - including women and girls. Looking at the film’s final image, where the boys move together, open and in sync, it is worth considering how we might build a different kind of culture - one where the storm of adolescence can pass through rather than settle in. Perhaps models of masculinity are only part of the question, and only part of the answer. What matters just as much is the world and culture we create around boys as they grow up.