Everybody on ‘The Summer I Turned Pretty’ Sucks and We Need To Talk About It

You may be asking, based on that clickbait headline, “Do we really need to talk about it?” And if you’re asking, that’s exactly why we do. Based on our readership demo, this show probably isn’t meant for you — it’s definitely not meant for me — and that is exactly why we need to talk about it (or at least, what I want to talk about). As for why everyone sucks … we’ll get there.

For those who are unaware, The Summer I Turned Pretty just wrapped its three-season run on Prime Video (follow-up movie now to come). Based on the YA trilogy by Jenny Han, the primary story is about Isabel “Belly” Conklin and the love triangle between brothers Conrad (“Con” or “Connie”) and Jeremiah (“Jere” or “Super Senior”) Fisher. Their mothers are best friends, and so they’ve grown up spending the summers at the Fishers’ summer home in Cousins Beach (a fictional New England/Cape Cod kinda place). There are other characters and relationships, of course, but the central driver of the three-season/book arc is this complicated love triangle. Kayleigh has a great breakdown of all this, along with why this show popped this summer.

Speaking of that pop. Look, I’m a middle-aged white dude. As I said, this show is 100% not for me — I’m not the intended audience and I don’t see any meaningful value (especially now that it’s over) in unpacking it critically — but I have nieces who range from pre-teen to late teen and this summer, this show has been everything for them. It popped with the young girl demo in a crazy way. And that’s why I wound up binging it over the last month or so, and why I wanna talk about it, because many of us cherish shared joy over content as a key part of our interpersonal relationships. I know this for a fact because it’s your desire for that which has helped keep the lights on at Pajiba for twenty-plus years.

For us, ahem, older generations, it’s sometimes hard to have that same connection with the kids in our lives. Sometimes we hit a jackpot, but usually the stuff they love is too hard for us to swallow, and the stuff we love, they just don’t care about. So we settle around the plenty-good-enough shows and movies. But the trick with a show like The Summer I Turned Pretty is that for these kids, they don’t just love this show, they have been consumed with it. And it’s perfectly fine enough in a way that adults can watch (and I know at least a few grown-ups who have been as hooked as the youths), and it’s worth it because the reward is then engaging with kids about it.

Back in July, I went on a family vacation to Hawaii. My four nieces (and their parents) were obsessed with TSITP and it was a frequent topic of conversation over the week. They’re so obsessed that while we were on the top of a volcanic mountain watching the sunrise, two of the teens orchestrated a series of photos of their favorite scenes from the latest episode, with the beautiful sunrise serving as little more than a background filter. When I told them I’d be writing about this in this article, they rushed to give me all the photos. Example:

Now, of the kids in my life, some love the show for real while others love it more mockingly (because everyone sucks — see, we’re getting there). But even if they love it mockingly, they’re still obsessed and, at a certain point, there’s no meaningful difference there. But the key to it all, from my perspective, is simply being able to sync up with that passion even a little. Doing it is joyous and deepens these relationships. Honestly, one of my absolute highlights of the trip was our last dinner — not (just) because of the phenomenal food but because we spent an hour having a deep-dive conversation about the full show run, and everyone was engaged and participating and having a blast. It was pure joy.

And so I binged the hell out of the show to get caught up so I could text with all these kids about it. Most of you know this, but kids just don’t text anymore. And yet, for the last month, I have had six children responding and engaging via text. Not just an emoji reaction, but full-on substantive responses. That this show could cause that … this show is a miracle. And that’s why I wanted to write about it, to hammer home this one simple lesson that’s easy to forget. For those of you with kids of any sort in your sphere, the next time you see a show like this sweeping them up and consuming them, jump in for the ride with them. Don’t worry about whether it’s for you, or if it means a show you actually like may get back-burnered for a few weeks. It’ll still be there. But these types of opportunities won’t.

And so now, finally, we come to the headline clickbait about how everyone sucks. I’m not talking about the acting or the writing (again, I’m not going to get into criticism, although I’d bucket all of that as falling in the “occasionally laughable to fine enough to sometimes good” spectrum). I’m saying that as written, every character* makes terrible decisions all the time, and acts juvenile well past an appropriate age (the show rockets well past the college years by the end). Say this to one of those children who love the show, and you’ll get an earful. And that’s great; I love that for them. The verdict is still out on whether the kids, generally and collectively, are gonna be alright. When they show up defending someone like Steven, though, I’m not sure.

*Taylor almost doesn’t suck, other than her insatiable love for Steven. But there is truly only one flawless character. While Team Con or Team Jere doesn’t matter anymore, let it be known that I was, am, and always will be Team Taylor’s mom. Lucinda, call me.