How ‘The Summer I Turned Pretty’ mistakes aesthetics for depth

It’s visually stunning—the kind of show that makes you want to pack your bags for the beach, fall in love, and spend your summer soundtracked by Frank Ocean. But beneath all the golden filters and teary confessions, TSITP, whose series finale airs Sept. 17, struggles to deliver genuine character development or emotional payoff. It’s not that the story lacks room for depth—grief, first love, and family change are ripe themes. The problem is that the series leans too heavily on aesthetic cues, especially its playlist, to force emotion rather than letting the characters earn it.

Soundtracks over storytelling

Let’s be honest. The music in TSITP is enthralling. Han has described the soundtrack as a “love language,” and it shows. The opening notes of Taylor Swift’s “Cruel Summer” or the melancholy of Ariana Grande’s “i wish i hated you” instantly transport viewers into Belly’s heightened emotional world. However, the heavy reliance on musical footnotes exposes the show’s weaknesses. In truth, the sheer number of articles, posts, and videos analyzing the show’s playlist choices compared to coverage of the show itself is as amusing as it is telling.

For almost any climactic scene, a character storms out, the camera lingers on Belly’s tear-streaked face, and then—boom—a perfectly chosen song begins, telling us exactly how to feel. It’s cute and works in the moment, but it’s also a shortcut. Rather than showing us Belly’s inner world through nuanced writing, the show hands the job to Swift (who has more than 20 of her songs featured in the series). Han has noted that Swift's music influenced the emotional tone of the series and that she listened to it often while writing the books.

Using music as narrative exposition isn’t unique to TSITP. Amazon Prime’s teen drama Motorheads does the same, with episodes playing chart-topping pop songs back to back. A similar (but subtler) tactic appears in Shonda Rhimes’ historical romance series Bridgerton, famously known for its classical covers of modern-day pop songs. TSITP, however, takes no subtle approach. Each season, the characters’ emotions have been undercut by someone singing their inner monologues.

An identity built on who she loves, not who she is

It doesn’t help that Belly, the protagonist and narrator, is frustratingly underdeveloped. She is the emotional anchor of the series but doesn’t feel fully fleshed out. Instead, she’s a collection of traits: awkward but pretty, impulsive but lovable, virtuous but taboo, and, lest we forget, perpetually torn between two blood brothers. Part of this comes from the love triangle itself. Belly is constantly reacting, choosing Conrad, then Jeremiah, then circling back again. Her identity is tethered to whichever Fisher brother occupies her heart, leaving little room for independent growth. Even when she’s grieving Susannah’s death (the Fisher brothers’ mother), a storyline that should ground her in real emotional stakes, the narrative still pulls her back toward romantic conflict.

In season three, Belly’s mother, Laurel, even tries to call her out, telling Belly that she needs to understand herself and make choices for her own life, not just for love. But Belly struggles to take that advice seriously, initially deciding to marry Jeremiah over going to Paris for her senior year of college. It isn’t until the couple decides to cancel the wedding, that she boards a flight and leaves. By the final season, the audience wants Belly to have learned something, to step into herself in a way that transcends boy drama. Instead, we get recycled arguments and repeated declarations of love. Now, with Belly finally in Paris, she has just two episodes left in the series to grow beyond the love triangle. That timeline is unfair to the actors, the audience, and the character herself.

The Fisher brothers offer a little more texture. Conrad is the archetypal brooding heartthrob—moody, guarded, but secretly tender. Jeremiah is his sunny “golden retriever” opposite—loyal, open-hearted, desperate to be chosen. On paper, this dynamic should create tension that deepens as the characters mature. The show also gestures at tense issues (grief for their mother, resentment toward their father, and the fear of growing up), but it doesn’t stay with them long enough to make them stick. By the final season, we’re all stuck in the same loop of Belly’s indecision.

It’s frustrating because the setup has precedent for success. The Vampire Diaries gave us a similar dichotomy with immortal brothers Stefan (Paul Wesley) and Damon (Ian Somerhalder), whose brotherhood grew alongside romantic chaos with Elena (Nina Dobrev). One Tree Hill explored rival half brothers Lucas (Chad Michael Murray) and Nathan (James Lafferty) against a short-lived love triangle with Peyton (Hilarie Burton). In both cases, over time, the brotherhood became the spine of the show. In contrast, Conrad and Jeremiah rarely say what they mean, instead wrapping conflict in thinly veiled threats and silent stares.

Messy teen dramas can lead to somewhere

Compare TSITP to shows that handle teen development with care, such as Mindy Kaling’s Never Have I Ever. Devi Vishwakumar (Maitreyi Ramakrishnan) is every bit as messy as Belly—impulsive, lovestruck, often selfish—but her messiness leads somewhere. By the final season, you believe she’s learned something about herself beyond who she’s dating.

The same can be said of Wednesday, which takes a famously deadpan character and places her in a new context where she has to navigate friendship and belonging. In Forever, created by Mara Brock Akil, teen lovers Keisha (Lovie Simone) and Justin (Michael Cooper Jr.) are given the time and space to move beyond their initial attraction and explore how intimacy and self-discovery shape their growth.

Han’s other projects point to what TSITP, her first young adult series, is missing. To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before worked because Lara Jean (Lana Condor) grew into someone who trusted herself as much as she trusted love. XO, Kitty continues this legacy, showing Kitty (Anna Cathcart) navigating independence and identity while owning her mistakes. These stories prove teen dramas can be fun and meaningful, while still embracing aesthetics. Here, aesthetics highlight growth, rather than replace it.

This doesn’t mean TSITP isn’t enjoyable, nor does it diminish the significance of its cultural impact through both casting choices and its source material. But when the show ends (and the music dies down), what are we left with?

Han gave us a story that could have explored grief, first love, and the messy process of growing up. Instead, The Summer I Turned Pretty chose to be exactly what its title suggests: pretty, with a playlist.