The much-anticipated finale to the teen romance series “The Summer I Turned Pretty” aired on Wednesday, Sept. 17 to mixed reactions and an announcement of a movie to conclude the coming-of-age story.
Based on Jenny Han’s book series, “The Summer I Turned Pretty” primarily follows Isabel “Belly” Conklin from the ages of 15 to 22. It explores ideas of grief and found-family as Belly and her love interests, family members and friends transition into early adulthood. However, as the story progresses past season one, the writers seem to lose sight of consistent narratives and larger themes while attempting to stay too true to the novels.
The first season is objectively the best of the series because of the creators’ care in balancing scenes from the book with original story writing. Belly, her brother Steven and her mother Laurel spend the summer as they always do – with Laurel’s best friend, Susannah Fisher, and her sons Jeremiah and Conrad in fictional Cousins, Mass. On the cusp of turning 16, Belly is intent on proving her maturity by partying, dating and participating in the Cousins’ debutante ball. But in episode three, a conversation between Laurel and Susannah reveals Susannah’s critical cancer diagnosis and her wish for one final Cousins’ summer. This is the most significant deviation from the books in which Susannah’s diagnosis is not revealed until the very end.
As a result, Belly, Jeremiah and Steven’s world of teenage drama becomes overshadowed by their mothers’ more sobering scenes. Conrad’s story is arguably the most tragic; the whole season, he struggles to maintain a composed facade while carrying the knowledge of Susannah’s diagnosis. He’s angry and unable to reconcile his romantic feelings for Belly with his grief, so he repeatedly pushes her away. The plot crescendos at the ball when Jeremiah attacks Conrad for hiding their mother’s cancer from him.
If the series had ended after that season, it would have been just as, if not more, satisfying. The fate of Belly’s relationship with the two Fisher brothers would be a loose end, but sometimes the most romantic endings are the ones we must speculate.
More importantly, the first season’s portrayal of death as a tragic underscore to the vivacity of life is laudable, impactful and does not need expansion beyond a single season. Unlike the novel, the show provides the audience with the ability to appreciate how Susannah’s inevitable death cannot be removed from the minutiae of everyday life. Continuing that story into a second season would have been overzealous.
Unfortunately, we were given two additional seasons that do much worse than beating a dead horse – they turn around to torture the choice to stick closer to the source material. Season one uses scenes from the book; however, that selection seems carefully curated for good reason. The novels were released from 2009 to 2011 and are remnants of their time. Riddled with internalized misogyny and sexism, they are hyper-focused on the love triangle between Belly, Conrad and Jeremiah to a level that makes the Bechdel test start sweating.
Thus, the decision to include more of the book canon is surprising. At many points throughout the show, the audience gets the impression of meeting different characters portrayed by the same actor. Laurel, initially characterized as pragmatic and kind, becomes oddly bitter in her grief in season two, slapping her daughter during an argument scene taken straight from the books.
Season three can’t decide if Belly is a messy and immature girlfriend or a guilt-ridden, co-dependent young adult. The inconsistency makes the show frustrating, yet masochistically compelling; we genuinely do not know what these characters will do next.
On top of this unstable narrative, the creators attempt to spawn both the next big love triangle and larger themes of self-discovery. The relationship between Belly and the Fisher brothers is entertaining; few love triangles are not. But, because of the inclusion of the book-based storyline portraying one brother as a nightmarish frat-boy, there is a clear favorite.
There was potential to develop a complex story capturing how these characters grow in the wake of Susannah’s death. Instead, the last three episodes of season three try to distract us from the initial eight, in which Belly loses herself in an unhealthy relationship, by giving her roughly an hour for a self-exploration arc. And yet, the show still ends with her emphatically confessing her love to one of the brothers. The Bechdel test is banging its head against the wall.
Ultimately, season one of “The Summer I Turned Pretty” should be a contender on everyone’s watchlist. It truly is a worthwhile exploration of love, family and grief. For those curious about the other two seasons, the internet is reliable in its inability to be spoiler-free.
Sophia Brandt can be reached at [email protected].
