It took three seasons, but The Summer I Turned Pretty finally did something overdue: gave us Conrad’s perspective.
While Connie baby has legions of supporters who hold onto his every, well, exhalation — the poor guy is not actually using his words, which is how he fumbled Belly in the first place — we rarely have any insight into what’s going on behind those cyan peepers.
And thus I found The Summer I Turned Pretty Season 3 Episode 5 to be riveting — just maybe not for the reasons many expect.
TSITP has indeed been one of Prime Video’s crown jewels. It’s one of many reasons they’re leaning heavily into the YA content strategy.
With Amazon backing the series, the budget allows for some nice treats, including beautiful local and needle drops that any eclectic music head will appreciate.
But my appreciation for this hour wasn’t necessarily because we finally got inside the head of the series’ most enigmatic and guarded character. Honestly, the episode still fell short in that regard.
As a card-carrying member of the emotionally repressed who also suffers from Oldest Child Syndrome, there’s very little that was surprising about what we did get of Conrad’s perspective in this hour.
Sure, as one of the few fans of this series who doesn’t prioritize the romance, I craved more beyond confirmation of his feelings for Belly and his world that revolves around her.
However, I’m still making peace with the fact that this Young Adult romance is steadfast in devoting 90% of its energy to, you know, the romance and literally nothing else at all.
Hey, at least he mentioned his therapist a few times, right?
No, what made this episode so riveting for me, scratching at the technical part of my brain when consuming the medium, was the direction.
Regardless of how generally frustrating I’m finding the season from a writing perspective, where I truly am giving Jenny Han her flowers (hydrangeas, sunflowers, peonies, and the like), is in her directorial debut.
The installment is proof of why female directors are so important in the grand landscape of things. They’re particularly important when it comes to the romance genre.
Via the direction of “Last Dance,” it felt like Han’s very own love letter to her work, select characters, and the art.
Han leans into the female gaze with the confidence of someone who knows exactly what this story means to its audience. The result is an episode that often feels like an arthouse indie romance, one that lures you into its moments rather than pulling you out with overt sentimentality.
It’s that direction that kept my attention during moments where it would otherwise wane in a slower hour.
There were key scenes, primarily romantic ones, that, particularly coupled with certain needle drops, made me appreciate the artistry in how they were filmed.
Take the now-infamous peach scene: bathed in golden sunset light, Belly and Conrad exist in a frame so warm and precise it’s almost tactile.
The lens lingers just enough for book lovers and Team Conrad to savor it, but the artistry in the color grading and blocking almost elevates it beyond fan service.
The idea is to show us who Belly is through Conrad’s eyes, and given that the series establishes him as a collection of romantic male lead tropes in Dad jeans, it mostly works. I also just generally find his food play kink entertaining.
There is just no way to make eating a juicy peach sexy but for Conrad? Hell yeah. And beyond that? Indie arthouse goodness right there. The dated, dreamy, nostalgic vibe of it all was nice classic, and thoughtful.
But that brings me to another scene that Han captures beautifully: the sex scene.
A good sex scene onscreen is about finding that right balance of intimacy and groundedness, and Han captures both well in “Last Dance.”
The soft lighting was a much more organic intimacy than the first time Conrad and Belly had sex in front of the fireplace, while still working as a decent callback to it.
It felt like we were imposing, which is exactly the vibe I enjoy most in those types of scenes. And I’m nothing if not here for the vibes. This episode? All vibes.
The way Han frames Conrad looking up at Belly reveals everything he won’t say out loud (because of course he doesn’t). It’s a private, vulnerable look, given only because she isn’t looking directly at him.
That single choice says more about him than half a season’s worth of dialogue or non-dialogue, as is the case with his character.
This moment of intimacy captures the best and worst of them as a unit. He’s clearly gone for her, but he never says it. She doesn’t trust it because she doesn’t hear it.
Alas, even the smaller moments of the hour sing.
The slow-motion effects can be cheesy when in the wrong hands, but they work here.
And the kitchen and dinner table moments also had solid aspects of intimacy and cozy framing that further coincides with an hour dripping in nostalgia and whimsy.
There were legitimate moments that reminded me of watching old The Wonder Years reruns as a kid — Belly had the effervesence of Winnie Cooper.
Even shifting to Steven and Denise had a similar effect. Their train moments, especially as Steven looked fondly at her like someone rediscovering that his heart can start up again for someone new, were framed wonderfully — classic romantic comedy elements.
And for poignant devastation? Han also handles tragedy with the same intimacy.
Conrad at Susannah’s deathbed feels almost claustrophobic, the light bright enough to honor her radiance but muted enough as it pans out to foreshadow her fate. It’s devastating in its restraint.
And it sparked another series of thoughts that maybe I’ll share later.
Yes, the plot this season may frustrate me — I still wish the show spent more than 10% of its energy on something besides the central romance or pushing that narrative with the subtlety of a sledgehammer. And Conrad’s POV very much did remind me of YOU Season 1 specifically.
Nevertheless, Last Dance proves Han’s eye is as important and powerful, maybe even more so than her pen.
It’s a new hat she should wear proudly, and she should continue to wear it in some capacity in the future.
And, what can I say? As a TV Fanatic, I appreciate that.
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