This spiritual sequel to director Crystal Moselle’s Skate Kitchen gives that movie’s characters a fresh slate but retains all of its gentle empathy and dreamy vibes. Revolving around a diverse group of girl skaters in NYC — the real streets of which the show is shot on — Betty sensitively explores the usual facets of teen dramas (love, drugs, identity, friendship) without ever breaking into the melodrama that often colors the genre. Amidst all of the freewheeling skate montages and killer tunes, there are (unfortunately) relatable issues like sexual assault and emotional manipulation getting thoughtful — and, crucially — empowering treatment from the young cast. In the show’s lighter moments, the girls' authentic chemistry shines through in the frequently improvised dialogue, which gives the show both a warm, inviting feel and a number of standout comedy moments (often courtesy of Nina Moran’s stoner girl Kirt). With six half-hour episodes per season (of which there are a much-too-short two), Betty covers admirably diverse ground while retaining a gorgeous hang-out vibe that makes it an addictive — even healing — watch.

The skateboards aren’t just props in Betty — they’re central to the show’s whole vibe. Each episode, the camera takes us along for a ride or two with liberating skating scenes that let us vicariously feel some of the joy and catharsis the girls get as they zip along on their boards. In the first season’s final episode, we get a pure blast of that infectious sense of freedom when the crew take off on their boards across the city with a huge crowd of diverse female skaters. It’s an emotional, euphoric moment, one that speaks to Betty’s all-embracing empathy and soothing energy — all-too-rare qualities that are here served up with refreshing generosity.