Tear up the screen: BFI’s Rip It Up season rebels against tired teen stereotypes | film

SFifty-five years ago, the Festival of Britain presented a vision of a modern, forward-looking nation emerging from the austerity of the Second World War. This also coincided with the emergence of a new cultural figure in the United States: the teenager. For the first time, young people began to be recognized as a distinct social group with their own tastes, fashions, concerns and aspirations.

This development forms the basis of Rip It Up, a new nationwide season of the BFI Film Audience Network that runs from May to October, exploring how British film and television have captured youth culture across seven decades. Combining performances, archival materials, talks, live events, and youth-led programming, the season traces a journey from postwar rebellion and working-class ambition to contemporary questions of identity, belonging, and self-expression.

For Timon Singh, producer at the BFI Film Audience Network, the timing of the season is very important. Alongside the Southbank Centre’s celebrations of the 75th anniversary of the Festival of Britain, Rip It Up offers an opportunity to consider how successive generations define themselves.

“What we thought we would do with Rip It Up was celebrate how youth culture in the UK has changed over 75 years,” he says. “The changing face of rebellion, culture, expression, joy, heartbreak, and everything that happens in youth.”

The films selected for the season chart these transformations. John Schlesinger’s Billy Liar, which receives a new 4K restoration, depicts a young man struggling against the conformity of post-war Britain. Quadrophenia immortalizes the tribal rivalries between mod and rock. “Babylon” channels the frustrations and creativity of black British youth through reggae soundsystem culture, while “Human Traffic” and “Young Soul Rebels” document the liberating potential of nightlife and music scenes.

However, one of the strengths of this season is its refusal to treat youth culture as merely a nostalgic parade of popular subcultures.

Singh was keen for the young people themselves to help shape the programme. At BFI Southbank, programmers aged 19-29 developed a takeover event exploring topics ranging from trans youth culture and black British fashion to female fandom, YouTube and the rise of digital identities.

“I felt strongly that if you were doing something to do with youth culture in the UK, you would engage young programmers,” says Singh.

The conversations that emerged revealed a different landscape from the narrowly defined youth movements of previous decades. Young participants wanted to engage with environmental activism, LGBTQ+ experiences, and online communities, reflecting concerns that seemed less tied to a single scene or style and more connected to questions of identity and representation.

At the same time, the season acknowledges the enduring appeal of films that have become touchstones for multiple generations.

There are few examples that illustrate this better than Bend It Like Beckham. More than 20 years after the film’s release, Gurinder Chadha’s story, about a British-Indian teenager balancing family expectations with her love of football, continues to attract audiences.

“People focus on youth rebellion as a whole and youth expression, but there are a lot of nuances,” says Chadha. “It’s not just one thing. It’s a lot of different things that you’re constantly negotiating.”

The director notes that screenings are increasingly attracting parents who first saw the film when it was released, and are now introducing it to their children. The result is a rare intergenerational dialogue, as audiences respond to the film’s specific cultural context and its broader themes of ambition, friendship and self-determination.

Chadha believes that younger audiences are also more open than previous generations to stories that highlight diverse perspectives and experiences.

“People are more open to seeing different stories and different voices represented on screen now,” she says. “A lot of times people enjoy what we call a coming-of-age movie regardless of the difference.”

This expanded definition of the youth experience is reflected in one of the season’s newest titles. Imran Beretta’s debut film ‘Ish’ follows two 12-year-old friends whose relationship is tested after they face a police stop and search. The film explores race, masculinity and adolescence, sitting alongside the classics of British youth cinema while speaking directly to current realities.

Elsewhere, the season highlights how ideas of rebellion continue to resonate across different places and generations.

The Queen’s Film Theater in Belfast has selected Lindsay Anderson’s 1968 classic If…, a surreal drama set in a boarding school in which students revolt against authoritarian structures. For programmer Neil Cadieux, the film’s strength lies not in a specific political message but in its depiction of youth resistance.

“It is often criticized for being a political film without any political point,” he says. “But that’s what I love about it.”

What remains compelling, he says, is the emotional power of challenging entrenched hierarchies, a theme that still resonates with today’s audiences.

Although rooted in a specifically English setting, the film’s exploration of power and social structures also found echoes in Northern Ireland. “There’s the same kind of hierarchy,” Cadieu says. “I think people respond to it on a personal level.”

Regional perspectives are central to Rip It Up’s broader ambitions. Alongside the performances, director Gwenno Lloyd-Till is creating an installation celebrating Welsh-language musical culture, featuring recordings, posters, memorabilia and archival material associated with artists including Katatonia, Super Fairy Animals and Gorky Zygotic Minsi.

For Lloyd Teale, whose work reflects ongoing concerns about arts funding in Wales, the project is also about vision.

“The most important thing is for my language to be represented in an institution like the Bahrain Food Industries Institute,” she says.

Together, these threads reveal a season that is less interested in defining youth culture than exploring its many forms. The familiar images remain – scooters, football stands, dance halls, demonstrations – but they sit alongside stories about migration, gender, race, language, and digital life.

What emerges is a picture of youth culture as a constant process of renewal. Concerns may change, as can the clothing, music and technologies through which young people communicate. However, the search for belonging, identity, and self-expression remains remarkably constant.

As Rip It Up moves between Billy Liar’s postwar dreams, the energy of Quadrophenia and human traffic, and the contemporary experiences captured in Rocks and Ish, it suggests that each generation finds its own way of making noise. At the same time, cinema continues to provide a record of how those voices shaped Britain.