
Christopher Briney, left, and Lola Trung star in “The Summer I Turned Pretty.” Credit: Courtesy of Prime Video via TNS
When a TV series runs its course and arrives at its farewell season, it can be difficult to navigate uncharted waters. Should it be treated as a love letter to the viewers, wrapping everything up in a shiny bow, or should it bring the heat for one last roller coaster ride?
“The Summer I Turned Pretty” returned for its third and final season Wednesday on Prime Video. The premiere consisted of the season’s first two episodes, “Last Season” and “Last Christmas.”
The series stars Lola Tung as Isabel “Belly” Conklin, a 15-year-old — going on 16 — who spends her summers in the fictitious town of Cousins Beach, Massachusetts, staying with her mother’s (Jackie Chung) best friend Susannah Fisher (Rachel Blanchard).
Susannah is mother to Conrad (Christopher Briney) and Jeremiah (Gavin Casalegno) — the brothers with whom Belly finds herself in a love triangle. While this is a fairly common trope in young adult-centered media, “The Summer I Turned Pretty” takes on a bolder approach. Belly’s relationships with both boys are given equal opportunities to shine — so much so that viewers stand divided between “Team Conrad” and “Team Jeremiah.”
Belly exits the series’ first season in a relationship with Conrad, her lifelong crush, despite previously having a brief fling with Jeremiah. In its second season, the series teeters the line between being dramatically entertaining and purely messy. Following her and Conrad’s stormy breakup, Belly struggles to move on from her past as she reconstructs her future. Within this, she falters in navigating her romantic feelings toward either brother, eventually choosing Jeremiah.
Though the series is renowned for its high-stakes romantic drama, it also portrays heavy subject matter with grace. The climax of the first season follows Susannah’s cancer diagnosis and the toll it takes on her loved ones. The second season opens with Belly bluntly stating the news of Susannah’s passing.
As a shocking turn of events, it presented the reality of the situation in a refreshing manner. The final season adheres to this signature quality — confronting its characters and viewers with the whole truth, even when it stings.
The third season features a large time jump, picking up with Belly nearing the end of her third year at Finch College. She is now four years deep into her relationship with Jeremiah — who is finishing his fourth year at the same school. In contrast, Conrad has graduated from Stanford University and holds a prestigious position at an esteemed medical clinic.
The series shines through its aforementioned honesty. The dialogue between characters feels incredibly realistic to today’s college students and it does not shy from depicting the less-than-picturesque qualities of their lifestyle.
Within this, the series stresses its pivotal message that people’s choices can often be clouded by their intentions — whether good or bad.
This earnest tone allows its actors to shine. Most notably, Tung’s portrayal of Belly glistens on screen. She showcases the many layers of a complex character. While Belly’s presence illuminates her every scene, her softness is just as notable. Her longing glances and mixed expressions provide depth, proving her to be just as moody as she is bright.
This season’s premiere adopts a more serious tone than its predecessors. Its characters have grown up, but they have not grown out of one another. Grief is an underlying theme — regarding people who have passed as well as opportunities that have slipped away.
Susannah remains a recurring character through her memory as her loved ones still grapple with her death. We see Conrad attending a seemingly routine therapy session, in which he recalls a warm memory shared with Belly before promptly dismissing it — just as we miss those of our past, we miss cherished moments with them as well.
Another signature appeal of the series’ charm is its soundtrack. Its use of popular hits, which closely resonate with their coordinating scenes, has made for a loyal fan base of music enthusiasts.
This tradition continues on throughout the premiere, as the first episode opens with a cult classic, “Dreams” by the Cranberries. In addition, they feature the discographies of many new-age pop stars, such as Chappell Roan and Olivia Rodrigo. Perhaps most notably, the series has a pattern of using the music of Taylor Swift during its most pivotal moments, and this season does not stray from that.
A more somber song selection was Sufjan Stevens’ “Mystery of Love,” which can be heard softly filling the space between Belly and Conrad in a nostalgic flashback. By choosing such influential songs from pop culture, the series curates a sense of familiarity for its audience — incorporating songs that viewers listen to in their everyday lives ensures their ability to easily resonate with corresponding scenes.
Since its first season’s premiere in 2022, the series’ audience has matured. Therefore, the series has grown alongside its viewers, depicting far more emotionally taxing and harrowing storylines. Leading characters have made questionable choices which may prove frustrating for viewers — planting roots to result in either immense growth or irrevocable wilting.
Just as plotlines culminate in mass destruction, the series’ tone subsequently reels from these unthinkable events, curating great depth in its narrative. While many modern series approach heavy subject matter delicately, “The Summer I Turned Pretty” isn’t afraid to break down its characters in an instant, leaving them to spend years picking up the pieces. This is a brave approach to storytelling, as it forces confrontation that elicits stronger regrowth.
This season’s premiere manages to be brutally daring, as well as strikingly poignant and deeply nostalgic. It builds upon past flames, depicting how they are not always blown out entirely, as some continue to quietly flicker — always remaining gently lit.
The second episode concludes with a proposal — how can we ever be sure that a current love will be our last?