Netflix has expanded its young adult catalog with the release of “Crew Girl,” a new series created by Vivian Lin that plunges viewers into the demanding and competitive world of elite high school rowing. The eight-episode drama centers on 16-year-old Teagan Tao, a dedicated single sculler whose privileged life in Los Angeles is upended overnight. When her wealthy hotelier father, David, is exposed for embezzling client funds and flees before federal authorities can arrest him, Teagan and her mother, Ella, are forced to abandon their affluent lifestyle.
With their assets frozen and nowhere else to turn, the mother and daughter pack up what little they have left and relocate cross-country to Ella’s Massachusetts hometown, a fictional coastal community called Eagle’s Cove. There, they attempt to rebuild their lives in Ella’s modest, worn-down childhood home. While “Crew Girl” aims to deliver a compelling story about fresh starts, unexpected romances, and the trials of teamwork, critics note that the series ultimately struggles with a lack of narrative realism, uneven dialogue, and monotonous themes that weigh down its promising cast.
The series opens on a note of high-stakes athletic ambition. Against the backdrop of a major rowing event, Teagan launches her boat into the water while her parents watch from the stands. Just moments before she is poised to secure a victory, her father abruptly departs, leaving behind a brief text message of apology just as the FBI swarms the spectator area. Six months later, with their financial resources entirely depleted save for Teagan’s college education fund, Teagan and Ella drive east.
Upon arrival, Teagan attempts to maintain a positive attitude as she enrolls at Easton Prep. She quickly forms a bond with a boarding student named Juliet Morny, while simultaneously drawing the ire of Britney Garner, the school’s resident queen bee and social gatekeeper. However, Teagan’s hopes of finding solace and continuity through her sport are immediately dashed when the school’s coach, Matt Hayden, informs her that Easton Prep fields a crew team exclusively for boys.
Refusing to be sidelined, Teagan aggressively inserts herself into the boathouse dynamics, eventually securing a position as the team’s coxswain. In this critical role—the lone non-rowing member of the boat—she is tasked with steering the vessel, executing the race strategy, and providing the vocal drive and motivation necessary to push the crew to victory. Teagan faces an uphill battle with an eight-man squad that initially embodies the stereotypical behavior of entitled, toxic young men. The roster includes rival cousins Josh and Ryder Regis, scholarship athlete Cam Dillinger, and Britney’s twin brother, Bronson, frequently known as "Baloo." To succeed, Teagan must bridge the gap between herself and her teammates, helping them win races in order to pressure the school administration into sanctioning an official girls’ team.
Despite its formulaic narrative beats, “Crew Girl” does feature several redeeming qualities across its eight-episode run. The casting of Miku Martineau—who also stars in Netflix’s “Bet”—as the lead offers an important milestone for representation in a television genre that rarely places Black actors and people of color in central, authoritative roles. Furthermore, while the series populates its adult characters with figures who largely fail at parenting, shifting burdens onto their children while prioritizing their own pursuits, the relationship between Teagan and her mother provides a steady emotional anchor. Their bond is characterized by mutual safety and appropriate levels of transparency, offering a genuine look at familial resilience.
Additional bright spots emerge through the chemistry between Teagan and her crewmates, particularly the burgeoning romantic sparks she shares with both Cam and Josh, which inject much-needed intrigue into the storyline. Yet, these highlights are ultimately insufficient to rescue “Crew Girl” from falling into the trap of conventional, cookie-cutter narratives that viewers have encountered numerous times before in the young adult streaming landscape.
The structural issues plaguing “Crew Girl” mirror those found in other recent YA dramas, such as Netflix’s “My Life With the Walter Boys” and Prime Video’s “The Runarounds.” Despite touching upon the expected emotional milestones of teenage and young adult storytelling, the series frequently lacks narrative heart, texture, and authenticity. Heavily worn tropes prevent the characters from breaking out of rigid, contrived plot points, leaving the young cast to navigate dialogue and scenarios that often feel disconnected from reality.
As generations of young people come of age amidst contemporary societal shifts, they face a vastly different cultural and digital landscape than their predecessors. Yet, by focusing narrowly on a privileged prep school and an all-boys rowing team divided rigidly along socioeconomic lines, “Crew Girl” largely bypasses the realities of a generation shaped by post-pandemic anxieties and hyper-connected digital environments. Until series creators and writers manage to capture the specific nuances of modern youth culture, audiences will likely continue to encounter recycled television narratives that fail to reflect the genuine experiences of today’s teenagers.
“Crew Girl” is currently streaming on Netflix.
