Overall, The Summer I Turned Pretty is a fun summertime watch, the TV equivalent of "a beach read." Though not every moment is light and summery, it is a perfect ode to summer and young love.

The whole show is summer escapism (if your escapism can handle some longing and heartbreak) in TV form. The beats of The Summer I Turned Pretty might be familiar—predictable, even—but it’s a good familiarity, like your favorite summer spot coming into view for the first time on vacation.

There’s plenty to enjoy about the series, which is warm and inviting and fun. Belly proves herself to be a great protagonist.

If you loved The Last Song, Han’s To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before, or have the vaguest notion of what “coastal grandmother aesthetic” means, you’ll eat it all up with a spoon. ... There’s a slightly more grown-up but nonetheless delightful escapism in Laurel’s setup as a single mom who, apparently, gets to spend the whole summer smoking weed and lightly co-parenting with her rich best friend.

The finale braids together the series’ many narrative throughlines with enough tearjerking emotion to earn the already-greenlit second season — though it’s telling that even then, the most affecting moments emerge from the family units and friendships and not from the ostensible couplings.

While “The Summer I Turned Pretty” doesn’t exactly reinvent the breezy teen summer series, it’s a bit like an overly sweet icy pop. Not very nutritious, messy af, but fun while it lasts.

The series is striving to capture that feeling of first love, of growing up and finding your own path. There’s moody music, hazy photography, and characters in slow motion. And yet, none of it quite works. At times there are glimmers of what the series could have been.