Drama
The Summer I Turned Pretty
Based on novel by Jenny Han, this series follows the complex love life of Belly, a young girl caught between two boys who are childhood friends as she joins the world of debutantes.
When David Jung quit his job nine years ago, he left something behind. And now he wants it back.
That’s a pretty tough ask, right? If David was an accountant and that “something” was his favorite pencil, it’s not like the office lost-and-found is likely to have kept something around that long. And it’s not as if David left on great terms, either.
But David Jung wasn’t just an accountant: He founded a private intelligence company named Caddis: essentially, a for-profit version of the CIA or KGB. And he didn’t leave behind a pencil. He left behind his daughter.
And Caddis doesn’t want to give her back.
Let’s backtrack a bit here. David was a big deal in the intelligence community. Or, at least, he would’ve been, if he hadn’t been a spy and all. (The best spies try to keep a low profile.) He had the vision to see the need for an independent intelligence agency and the skills to be one of its top operatives.
But Caddis soon took on a business life of its own, and David wasn’t keen on where it was going. But one does not simply quit the espionage business—not in limited television series, anyway. If David tried to leave or reform the system, that system would go after David’s most vulnerable pain point: Rebecca, his 14-year-old daughter. Naturally, he did what any good father would do: He faked his own death and disappeared.
Granted, that’s not exactly the sort of act that’ll get you a “World’s Best Dad” mug for your birthday. But David thought it was the only way to protect his daughter.
Ah, but life is full of ironies. David’s attempt to keep Rebecca safe ultimately pushed the girl straight into the arms of Caddis and its cold-blooded CEO, Juno. Rebecca is now Caddis’ top-ranked assassin. Or, at least, she was, before dear ol’ Dad showed up.
But will Rebecca—who’s been making a literal killing for Caddis—be willing to abandon her promising career for the guy who abandoned her as a teen? Or will Juno be able to keep her favorite killer?
Based on a graphic novel series of the same name by Arash Amel and Marguerite Bennett, Prime Video’s Butterfly is a mixed bag. To paraphrase Muhammed Ali, Butterfly may float like one, but it also stings like a bee.
In terms of its aesthetics and ambition, Butterfly is, indeed, a flyaway sort of show. The writing feels a little clunky. The action sequences are predictable. The father-daughter story at the heart of this thriller elevates the narrative a bit; Daniel Dae Kim, a veteran of such shows as Lost and Hawaii Five-0, feels believable as both a dangerous spy and a dad, and his desire to get his little girl back (even though she’s not so little anymore) offers some moral resonance.
But Butterfly is, of course, a show about a bunch of trained killers. And you’d hardly expect characters such as those to spend their days drinking tea and talking about their feelings.
Plenty of people die. And while the deaths are not as bloody as they could be, blood still spatters and pools. Some characters find the time to get intimate with others, too—with relationships sometimes as shallow and meaningless as much of the plot. And the language pushes well into R-rated territory, too.
Yes, David wants to reconnect with his daughter and, if all goes well, get her out of the private assassination business. But this occasionally bloody, frequently profane show may be something you’d do well to not connect with at all.
(Editor’s Note: Plugged In is rarely able to watch every episode of a given series for review. As such, there’s always a chance that you might see a problem that we didn’t. If you notice content that you feel should be included in our review, send us an email at [email protected], or contact us via Facebook or Instagram, and be sure to let us know the episode number, title and season so that we can check it out.)
Rebecca, who’s reportedly the “best asset” on Caddis’ payroll, has been assigned a plumb gig: assassinating the Russian ambassador to South Korea. The killing goes off without a hitch—well, right up until the time the ambassador’s bodyguards start shooting at her, that is—but a bigger danger to Rebecca lies just outside. Her father got wind of her assignment and has taken out Rebecca’s own team. He means to reunite with his daughter, even if it kills him.
The ambassador is dispatched via a booby-trapped phone. When the Russian answers a call, he starts foaming out of the mouth. Other people die through more traditional means. A man who’s tied to a chair, and who has clearly been subject to torture, is executed via a gunshot to the head. (We get a closeup of the dead man as blood dribbles out of the wound.) Another person is shot and killed during a fight. (Blood pools around the dead man’s head.) Rebecca stabs someone in the chest, apparently killing him.
Several other melees feature hits, kicks, chokeholds and the like; some of this fighting may also lead to fatalities, though the camera does not linger. (At a bare minimum, plenty of combatants are incapacitated.) Explosions leave people unconscious and bleeding. Someone is knocked out via a pistol whip. We hear that Rebecca “took out the Sudanese finance minister and his entire security detail” in a previous mission. In another, she sabotaged a military plane—with the crash presumably killing those on board. We learn that David faked his death nine years ago.
Juno, the head of Caddis, threatens a hostage’s family to get him to talk. (Sophie’s gotta be, what, 5 now?” she tells the man.) When David tells his current wife (who’s not, apparently, Rebecca’s mother) that he’s trying to recover his daughter, his wife cautions him. “If Caddis finds you, they’ll kill you. They’ll kill all of us.”
Rebecca has sex with one of her coworkers. We don’t see anything critical, we do see plenty of sexualized movements and the like. Afterward, it’s quite clear that this was an act of stress relief and boredom control, rather than anything involving love or even, really, attraction. And when Rebecca’s male partner suggests they have time for more, Rebecca demurs and leaves. (Rebecca wears a short skirt as part of a disguise at one point, too.)
David shares a glass of liquor with a friend (as he asks that friend to prep a fake passport for him). He revels with a bunch of drunk karaoke singers, pretending to be completely snockered, too. Characters use the f-word eight or nine times, the s-word about five more, and other, milder profanities.
Paul Asay has been part of the Plugged In staff since 2007, watching and reviewing roughly 15 quintillion movies and television shows. He’s written for a number of other publications, too, including Time, The Washington Post and Christianity Today. The author of several books, Paul loves to find spirituality in unexpected places, including popular entertainment, and he loves all things superhero. His vices include James Bond films, Mountain Dew and terrible B-grade movies. He’s married, has two children and a neurotic dog, runs marathons on occasion and hopes to someday own his own tuxedo. Feel free to follow him on Twitter @AsayPaul.
Based on novel by Jenny Han, this series follows the complex love life of Belly, a young girl caught between two boys who are childhood friends as she joins the world of debutantes.
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