Turtles All the Way Down Captures OCD With Heartbreaking Accuracy

When I was 16, my brain started to feel impossible to live with. I knew it wasn’t just typical teenage angst and hormones I was dealing with, but something more — I was eventually diagnosed with obsessive-compulsive disorder, or OCD. The anxiety disorder, which affects approximately 1.2% of adults in the US, is characterized by frequent unwanted, distressing thoughts (obsessions) and repetitive behaviors or mental acts carried out in response (compulsions). No, it doesn’t stand for “obsessive Christmas disorder” like that Etsy shirt says. 

It’s still very rare to see OCD depicted in TV shows and movies at all, much less accurately. There are a few notable exceptions — Lena Dunham’s character Hannah in the HBO comedy Girls, the short-lived Channel 4 series Pure, and the surprisingly brilliant portrayal of intrusive thoughts on Big Mouth. One of the most well-known and controversial examples is the comedy-drama Monk, which followed Adrian Monk (Tony Shalhoub), a private detective with obsessive compulsive tendencies and severe phobias. 

Although I grew up watching Monk religiously, it never dawned on me that I might share the same diagnosis as the quirky detective. I wasn’t particularly afraid of germs, nor was I obsessed with cleaning and organizing. I certainly didn’t feel like my intrusive thoughts and compulsions, which I hadn’t yet learned the proper terminology for, were a secret superpower. That’s not to say that the show was necessarily “bad” representation — OCD comes in many forms, and others may identify with Monk’s avoidance of touching doorknobs or his need for everything to be perfectly symmetrical. Still, it’s frustrating how often the disorder gets boiled down to just being a “neat freak” or a “germaphobe” when it’s so much more than that.

I had never strongly related to any on-screen portrayal of OCD until I watched Max’s Turtles All the Way Down. Directed by Hannah Marks and based on John Green’s 2017 YA novel of the same name, the film centers on Aza (Isabela Merced), a 16-year-old with OCD who reconnects with her childhood crush Davis (Felix Mallard) after his billionaire father mysteriously disappears. Equal parts heartbreaking and hopeful, the coming-of-age story sensitively captures one of the most widely misunderstood mental illnesses — it’s a rare instance of Hollywood getting OCD right.

Aza’s primary obsession revolves around bacteria. She constantly thinks about microbes in the human body whether she’s eating, in class, or having a conversation, and she’s absolutely terrified of getting an infection (specifically, a clostridioides difficile infection). One of her compulsions involves repeatedly picking at a bandaged callous on her finger, which she never allows to fully heal. She also suffers from existential OCD, fearing that she’s not actually a “real” person. 

One of the things that stands out most about Turtles All the Way Down is the clever way it uses narration to portray the intensity of Aza’s intrusive thoughts, or “thought spirals,” as she fittingly describes them. We’re not just privy to Aza’s thoughts, but stuck in her brain. After she kisses Davis for the first time, she becomes consumed with worries that she’s infected with his bacteria. As much as she desperately wants to be happy about the kiss, she can’t quiet her mind down. Merced’s narration grows increasingly more rapid as Aza gets more and more anxious, the dialogue like a blaring soundtrack on repeat that you can’t turn off. We’re just trapped with her in an awful, suffocating spiral that’s impossible to escape.

Even though my own OCD doesn’t manifest the exact same way as Aza’s, I’ve never felt more seen. Pretty much everyone gets intrusive thoughts (“what if you jumped in front of that car?”) from time to time, but living with constant thought spirals like Aza does is exhausting. “It’s not logical,” she tells Davis. “It’s like I’m living with a demon.” I’ve never heard the concept summed up so accurately and succinctly. 

Whether it’s bacteria, religion, or fear of harming others, OCD can latch onto absolutely anything. The specific content of the intrusive thoughts is ultimately irrelevant; what matters is the distress the spirals cause. Like Aza, I understand that my worries aren’t rational, but that doesn’t make them any less scary to deal with.

The striking authenticity of Turtles All the Way Down can be partially attributed to the fact that John Green himself has OCD. The author, who serves as a co-producer on the film, has been open about his own experiences with mental illness, and he describes the novel as his “most personal” story yet. 

“My experience of OCD is that you’ll do whatever you need to do to make the obsessive thought spiral stop, because it’s extremely painful,” Green reflected in a recent interview with Vanity Fair. “The compulsive behaviors are not freakish. They make a lot of internal sense when you’re trying to confront intense pain.”

The film never romanticizes or downplays the harsh reality of living with OCD. Aza doesn’t simply recover right away, which rings true to life. “I was hoping I’d be better,” she says at one point. It’s such a simple line, but it hits incredibly hard. Too often, mental illness is portrayed as something that can be “cured” with the right words or the right relationship, when in reality, it’s often a lifelong battle. 

Yet Turtles All the Way Down also offers a much-needed sense of hope. Without giving away any major spoilers, the movie, like the book, includes a brief time jump at the end. Green explains that writing the scene was his way of speaking to his younger self. “I was going back and saying to myself: You’re so sick, and I’m so sorry, more than anything,” he told Vanity Fair. “I’m so sorry, and you’re going to get through this.”

We’re gradually starting to see more raw, unapologetic depictions of mental illness like this in TV and movies, particularly in the YA realm. Netflix’s teen drama Ginny & Georgia, which Mallard happens to star in as Marcus, does an excellent job of portraying self-harm and severe depression in Season 2. The upcoming third season of Heartstopper is also expected to focus heavily on Charlie’s (Joe Locke) mental health — in the graphic novels the show is based on, he’s diagnosed with an eating disorder and OCD. Slowly but surely, these difficult topics are becoming less taboo; Gen-Z in particular seems much more open about mental health. 

Obviously, watching Turtles All the Way Down didn’t magically cure my OCD or make it suddenly okay to throw my Zoloft in the trash. But the film did make me feel less alone, and there’s absolutely something to be said for that. There will be good days and bad days for both Green and myself, but like Aza, we’ll make it through — and if all else fails, we can always count on Star Wars fan fiction and tuataras. 

Turtles All the Way Down is streaming now on Max.

Kelly Martinez is a TV Reporter based in Los Angeles. Her previous work can be found at BuzzFeed and People Magazine, among other outlets. She enjoys reading, spending time with her cat, and explaining the plot of Riverdale to people.