“XO, Kitty” season three picks up right where the show left off: smack in the middle of a prime young adult cocktail of romance, comedy and drama. But while its predecessors walked the line between the three, the newest installation in the “To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before” Netflix spinoff series takes a sharp turn into trope-y dramedy — a choice that destabilizes the show’s tonal balance and ultimately strips it of its charm.
The show follows Kitty Song-Covey (Anna Cathcart), a self-proclaimed matchmaker and Lara Jean’s spunky little sister, who moves to Korea for high school with two goals in mind: to reconnect with her deceased mother’s Korean heritage and reunite with her long-distance boyfriend. What then ensues is a classic mix of love-triangles, secrets and improbable dating schemes characteristic of the rom-com genre. Season two left off on a cliffhanger in which a now-single Kitty was in the midst of confronting her situationship with Minho (Sang Heon Lee). Now, in season three, Kitty is faced with the ultimate coming-of-age landmark: high school graduation.
Given this premise, “XO, Kitty” has always balanced earnest depth with teenage melodrama. In seasons one and two, Kitty grappled with the challenges of culture shock — who knew learning Korean would be that hard? — and confronting familial history alongside the usual chaos of boyfriends, crushes and friendships.
Season three, however, commits whole-heartedly to the messy side of Kitty’s teenage life, and her exploration of her cultural and self-identity becomes secondary. Drinks are spilled on designer clothing, and cheating and emotional cheating abound. In one memorable moment, Kitty changes into a dress she does not own at a party she is not supposed to be attending, a situation that — as one might expect — ends in humiliating disaster and some serious secondhand embarrassment. The effect is eerily reminiscent of several other Netflix shows, including “Ginny & Georgia” and “Never Have I Ever.” But where both of those shows are rooted in drama while touching on themes of cultural identity and coming of age, “XO, Kitty” depends on both aspects in equal measure. Season three loses control of that carefully-cultivated balance, bogging down the plot with so much drama, miscommunication and predictably cringe-worthy encounters — seemingly “for the plot” — that, at times, the show borders on unwatchable.
In addition to weighing down the plot, this pivot also comes at the expense of character growth. A show with an ensemble cast as large as “XO, Kitty” is easy to mishandle. Characters can often feel two-dimensional and writing can slip, but previously, the show has effectively balanced storylines and allowed every side character to shine in their own way. Cathcart’s Kitty is equal parts quirky, nosy and charismatic. The banter she has with Minho is playful, light-hearted and entirely charming. Her now-ex boyfriend Dae (Choi Min-yeong) along with resident rich girl Yuri (Gia Kim), track star and fellow American Q (Anthony Keyvan) and several other schoolmates form a core friend group that works to elevate Kitty’s self-understanding.
With the introduction of new love interests and fresh drama, however, those identities become muddled at best and unrecognizable at worst. Characters once grounded in healthy, functional relationships fall into eyeroll-inducing cycles of miscommunication that could be resolved with a two-minute conversation. Kitty and Minho lose much of the spirited back-and-forth that once defined their dynamic, though Cathcart and Lee still crackle with chemistry; the problem lies in the repetitive plotting around them, not in the performances themselves. It’s also a disaster for pacing. In an eight-episode season with a brisk 30-minute runtime per episode, there is little room for every character to carry a heightened, drama-filled storyline. This doesn’t stop the show from trying, though, and the result is a collection of half-baked, often-rushed plot lines that end up doing more telling than showing in an attempt to compensate for the sheer volume of storylines.
By far the most obvious and disappointing of those storylines, is that of the titular character herself. This season was filled with opportunities for Kitty to explore her own identity, especially as, armed with her newfound “carpe diem” mentality, she confronts the challenges of senior year, college planning and beyond. To be sure, those moments aren’t entirely absent. Watching Kitty hold an entire conversation with her halmoni (grandmother) in Korean — no matter how butchered — was heartwarming, and Kitty’s attempts to resolve conflicts between her friend group and her family reflect great maturity. But for the most part, opportunities for growth are woefully underdeveloped. Kitty applies to college in what seems like one minute. Her struggles to keep up with a required Korean literature class appear perhaps twice. These moments that have the potential to actualize deeper reflection are sidelined or brushed over to make room for her will-they-won’t-they relationship with Minho. Kitty never gets to know who she is outside of her romantic exploits, a notion that feels distinctly misaligned with a show that, up until this point, has been at least partially driven by self-exploration outside the realm of romance.
The best moments of the season are when the show returns to those roots. Scenes that ground themselves in non-romantic relationships — such as Q and Kitty’s reconciliation after a brief fallout or the surprising sweetness of Dae and Yuri’s budding/ongoing friendship — are engaging testaments to the value of emotional support systems. Lara Jean’s brief appearance is nostalgic, but it also pushes Kitty toward more meaningful self-reflection. In one especially sincere speech, she talks to Kitty about authenticity; the message may not be original, but actress Lana Condor sells it. In scenes like these, the story has room to breathe and the cast space to deliver more nuanced performances.
“XO, Kitty” is at its best when it stops trying to be something it’s not. Though season three has its bright spots, it ultimately gets lost in a mess of teen drama and some of the worst examples of friend-cest to ever grace my screen. In doing so, it loses much of the depth that made the first two seasons so compelling and seems, at times, to forget how to be itself.
