Released Sept. 10, “Crew Girl” quickly sailed to the number two slot on Netflix’s top 10 list, and Sept. 22 was renewed for a second season. The show is a new release, but it is also a tale as old as time –– or an amalgamation of them. More specifically, it is the latest entry in a long series of television series which, when viewed as a whole, form the recipe from which the subgenre has been dining for years.
The first ingredient is the protagonist. “Crew Girl” tells the story of Teagan Tao, who, like the heroines who have come before her, is sassy and self-assured and just stupid enough to make a few mistakes so as to further the plot. Like Belly Conklin of “The Summer I Turned Pretty,” Teagan is biracial — actress Miku Martineau is half Japanese, one of many rising stars helping claim Wasian representation in modern media. And like Adriana Russo of “Finding Her Edge,” she is singularly passionate about the one thing that defines her –– in this case, eponymously, crew.
The next prerequisite for popular success is the setting. The pilot of “Crew Girl” begins with Teagan’s life suddenly uprooted as her father’s financial troubles force her out of Los Angeles and across the country to the tiny New England town where her mother grew up. Eagle’s Cove sports a fudge store and a crab shack and trees, all of which seem to be new to Teagan. Like Capeside, Mass. of “Dawson’s Creek” or Dillon, Texas of “Friday Night Lights,” the cloistered world of the show is small enough to maintain a limited cast of characters who all know everything about each other already.
Eagle’s Cove is large enough, however, to contain Easton Prep. Like Constance Billard-St. Jude's of “Gossip Girl” or Maxton Hall of “Maxton Hall,” Easton is an ambiguous, prestigious preparatory school, the ecosystem of which Teagan wastes no time disrupting. Teagan’s first day plays out in predictable fashion, as upon her arrival she is immediately confronted by the stereotypical Mean Girls, and just as promptly saved by the archetypical Best Friend, who delivers Teagan –– and the audience –– the Lay of the Land.
So begins the plot, in which, as one might expect, not everything is smooth sailing for Teagan. Easton boasts a rowing team on its website, so she eagerly shows up to practice, only to discover that of course the school only has a boys team. Of course, their locker room is in desperate need of some team bonding. Of course she must defy the odds in a literal boat race to become their new coxswain, a role in which she is met with some resistance.
Enter the love triangle, predictably located between Teagan and two of her eight new teammates, Cam and Josh. Like Nathan and Lucas Scott of “One Tree Hill,” Cam is brunette while Josh is blonde. Like Dan Humphrey and Nate Archibald of “Gossip Girl,” Cam comes from a working class background while Josh has familial wealth. Like Dean Forester and Tristan Dugray of “Gilmore Girls,” Cam is perfectly nice while Josh is comically not –– but he reads Lord Byron and takes off his shirt and cannot help but pique Teagan’s interest nonetheless.
There are other supplementary ingredients, too. After the departure of her father, Teagan is left in the care and company of her mother, who, like Georgia Miller of “Ginny and Georgia” or Lorelei Gilmore of “Gilmore Girls,” has her own subplots and story arcs. And, picking up on the latest trend in the young adult space, like the sports shows of “Heated Rivalry” or “Off Campus,” “Crew Girl” treats rowing almost like a character, fiercely and relentlessly analogized to the action of the show in its voiceovers and dialogue.
None of this is to say that “Crew Girl” is not a worthwhile watch. If anything, the recipe-like nature of the show and of its contemporaries speak to the ease of their viewing experience, to their ability to wash over the mindless viewer in precisely the way they might expect, without surprise or subversion of expectation. The template is formulaic, which means that its pleasures are endlessly renewable –– part of the reason why audiences have returned and will continue to return to the young adult rom-com-dram.
The spunky lead, the small town, the new school, the unlikely development, the complicated mother, the nice guy and the bad boy –– there is comfort to be found in these contours, in knowing where the story is going and watching simply to see how it will get there. “Crew Girl” is not reinventing the wheel, nor is it particularly interested in doing so. It is simply putting together the ingredients of a tried-and-true recipe –– a recipe for which, judging by the show’s success so far, audiences are still hungry.




