The Kissing Booth is the teen romance that Netflix CCO Ted Sarandos claims is "one of the most watched movies in the world right now." And that's a big problem.

Don't get me wrong. I can appreciate a glittery high school fantasy as much as the next person—seriously, I've seen all of Riverdale.

But The Kissing Booth isn't just the latest movie setting unrealistic expectations for teenagers. Instead, it is a two hour tribute to Netflix's trend of valuing controversial (and too often willfully ignorant) content over quality young adult narratives.

The Kissing Booth is a bad movie, as its shallow characters, erratic pacing, laughable dialogue, and 17% Rotten Tomatoes score can confirm. And yet, scads of young viewers are obsessing over its story, with some even demanding it be turned into a television series.

Like 13 Reasons Why, The Kissing Booth dazzles fans by peppering its plot with hot button topics and then blowing right past them. In an hour and forty-five minutes, audience members are jerked through depictions of slut shaming, manipulative relationship tactics, fetishization of minors, allegations of domestic violence, sexual harassment and assault, dangerous underage drinking habits, and a really big helping of toxic masculinity.

Some fans defend the movie by nodding to the likability of the romcom's star couple. But if you watch with an even remotely discerning eye, you'll quickly notice these lovebirds' abusive relationship represents insidious and unacceptable stereotypes.

First, there's Elle Evans (Joey King) who is given plenty of quirky dialogue and whose tomboyish ways are detailed in the film's excruciatingly long setup. But that's about it in terms of breaking sexist cliches.

From running around the men's locker room half-naked and covered in paint to sliding slow motion down a slip-n-slide, Elle spends nearly the entire film in booty shorts, crop tops, bathing suits, and her underwear. The trendy clothes that indicate she is (and I quote) "asking for it" lead to her hunky suitor protecting her from groping and endless ogling for the entire storyline.

My advice to the filmmakers: For the sake of your young audience, grow up.

That knight in shining armor is Noah Flynn (Jacob Elordi), who jumps at the chance to violently attack anyone who threatens his love interest. And when Elle later asks him about his anger issues, he responds that he's "just wired" that way—bringing the "boys will be boys" defense to the aid of this already problematic character.

As Noah gets increasingly possessive, he often yells at Elle for not doing as he says, at one point claiming she has "a lot to learn." When Elle sticks up for herself, Noah ever so charmingly calls her "bossy." Did Tina Fey's best-selling book really teach him nothing?

This is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the mountain of mistakes The Kissing Booth makes. Unfortunately, the negative realities of this romcom don't seem to be resonating with its fervent fan base. My advice to the filmmakers on their next teen project? For the sake of your young audience, grow up.