Brooding Boy Epidemic

This summer brought an influx of discourse regarding Jenny Han’s screen adaptation of The Summer I Turned Pretty. My roommates and I were participants in one of the many watch parties on campus, gathering on Wednesday nights to see how Belly’s story would play out. However, as I continued to watch, it became increasingly hard not to dislike the lead’s main love interest, Conrad Fisher.

Conrad has the persona of what I would call a “brooding boy.” By this I mean that he is very moody, indecisive, mysterious, and damaged. Throughout the series, Conrad is characterized as a misunderstood boy who repeatedly communicates one thing, then proceeds to take back his initial emotional declarations. Fans seeking to defend his character are quick to point out that he was dealing with the news and sudden death of his mother, which understandably affected his demeanor. Yet, this is ultimately an explanation for his behavior, not an excuse. Conrad’s closed-off attitude makes him more difficult to watch with each episode, and fans romanticizing this behavior make Conrad even more repulsive. Believe it or not, this type of leading man is not unique to The Summer I Turned Pretty, and is in fact very common in television.

Take Gossip Girl’s Chuck Bass, for example. Chuck’s character, while different from Conrad’s, has the same foundation that every brooding boy does: damaged, misunderstood, and arrogant. Whether you watched it 10 years ago or 10 weeks ago, there is no denying that everyone was rooting for Chuck Bass and Blair Waldorf to end up together. I admit I was part of the group that wanted to see them couple up. In hindsight, the overall trajectory of their relationship was nowhere near romantic. A plot point actually involved him trading her for a hotel. How sweet, am I right?

The variety of brooding boys that television has to offer—whether it be Edward Cullen or Damon Salvatore—creates an audience that responds in one of two ways. Either they long for a similar relationship dynamic, deeming it as exciting and invigorating, or they silently watch from the sidelines, but still romanticize it in hopes that the main couple ends up together. My question is, what’s so romantic about unstable relationships filled with uncertainty, miscommunication, micro-cheating, and an unwillingness to be emotionally available?

The many tumultuous relationships portrayed on television, with the occasional toss in of a brooding boy, have created the mindset that love should be difficult and a love that is “easy” is boring or unfulfilling. While that view may be true in fiction, it definitely does not translate into reality. In real life, experiencing the troubles of an emotionally unavailable person does not live up to the expectation set by television. It is not exhilarating, nor is it romantic. It makes every interaction exhausting and draining, which I don’t think anyone would want for their love life.

I understand that toxicity and miscommunication make for good drama and television. After all, what would the plot be if not for the guys who date a girl as a bet or break up their brother’s relationship? It’s also fun for the audience to see how a director paints their redemption in the finale to show that the brooding boy is no more. Yes, television is supposed to be fiction and an entertaining escape. But who would want fiction to manifest into a reality where their love interest is a jerk with no regard for the feelings of others? Personally, I will never see the appeal in that.