What Sets “The Summer I Turned Pretty” Apart From Other Teen Shows (From an Actual, Current Teen Girl)
By Malin Phelan
I first read Jenny Han’s The Summer I Turned Pretty trilogy when I was in middle school. Hidden in the depths of my English teacher’s bookshelf, I stumbled upon the series and flipped book one open purely out of curiosity. And lo and behold, I was rapt. I read the entire series in no more than four days, completely enamored with Belly, Jeremiah, and (of course) Conrad.
I think my love stemmed partly from the obvious attractiveness of Jeremiah and Conrad–each of them has qualities that appeal to, if nothing else, the core of a teenage girl’s ideal boy. More than that, however, the series does something really well–it makes a scenario that should be entirely unattainable, wholly believable. The notion that two family friends who have quite literally witnessed you in your worst moments, the ones that produce the most sibling-like feelings and tendencies, can still fall madly in love with you, inspires hope. Because of this, you find yourself rooting for Belly (at least, I certainly did). You want her to succeed. Even though she has endless embarrassing moments, pines for Conrad even when it seems futile, and has aninability to read the room at times–she is an excellent main character. She is kind, she is naive, and she feels pushed aside much of the time. She is complex. And as a teenage girl, this is vital. You see yourself in her. I know that I did.
So, of course, when the series came out on Amazon Prime, I was ecstatic. No longer am I the same middle schooler that read those books in the first place. I am Conrad’s age now, and have more life experience under my belt. I know, now, what it is to feel truly attracted to someone. I understand, at least a little more, the lengths that each character went to in order to show (or hide) their true emotions. Watching it now, it is interesting to see how my understanding of the characters has developed. More than that, however, I also see how my overall understanding of Cousins Beach and its surroundings have changed.
While the TV series followed the books, it added elements such as the Debutante Ball (which allowed for a broad slate of events that, of course, were needed to drive the plot forward), the importance of phones and social media (Instagram and Snapchat were nowhere near their current level of relevance at the time when Han originally wrote the books), and touched on issues such as class divide and race. Watching the show, I felt like I was watching actual, current teenagers. These are the kids who I hang out with, they are my friends, and they are myself. Isabel Tung, who plays Belly Conklin, looks like a real teenager–as does Gavin Casalegno (Jeremiah Fisher), Christopher Briney (Conrad Fisher), and Sean Kaufman (Steven Conklin). They’re conventionally attractive, certainly, but the notion that they are in high school is believable. Their mannerisms aid in this, and as I watched, it was obvious that the dynamic of the actors was natural and flowing. As opposed to shows like Gossip Girl, Pretty Little Liars, and even Outer Banks–these characters actually felt like real people. Cousins Beach could be a real place (think Nantucket, the Hamptons, Outer Banks, Cape Cod). That, in and of itself, makes it clear that this show has done something differently. Other networks, directors, and producers are certainly taking notes (and if not, they definitely should be).
The way in which The Summer I Turned Pretty has been received is a clear indicator that we need more relatable television, with characters that look like real people and have more complex personalities than just a pretty girl, or a brooding bad boy. Teenagers are more complex than television networks often make out their shows to be. The Summer I Turned Pretty did an excellent job reminding us just what teenagehood is really like. I, for one, cannot wait for season two–and if you haven’t watched yet, I highly recommend that you check it out.
