As the series opens we meet privileged Los Angeles prep schooler Bret Ellis (Igby Rigney) as an alluring aerial shot tracks him driving his father’s sporty Mercedes—”a tank” of a car, Bret scoffs—through the Hollywood hills, echoing the establishing shots of the film he is about to watch on its opening weekend, Kubrick’s The Shining. It’s May 1980, a prelude to the main action that this first nine-episode season will focus on, set over the following fall. As a fan of Stephen King’s book and as an aspiring novelist himself, Bret is disappointed by the screen adaptation. He leaves the movie theatre filled with thoughts, not of Jack Nicholson’s intense performance, but of an enigmatic, dashing young man with whom he exchanged glances as he arrived at the same Saturday matinee before mysteriously getting up from his seat just twenty minutes into the film.
Based on the 2023 novel by Bret Easton Ellis, The Shards—co-created by Ellis and Ryan Murphy, who co-wrote the first two episodes, with Murphy directing the first and fifth—quickly emerges as one of Murphy’s finest achievements in television. We are immediately immersed into brooding teenage dreamboat Bret’s monied, lavish world as his arch, cooly detached but intoxicating voice-over draws us in as he looks back to the onset of adulthood (“twink death” as the cool kids are saying online these days) four decades on from the present day. Both the voice-over and the stunning visuals (Jason McCormick serves as director of photography for three episodes, including the opener) are imbued with palpable nostalgia. As the sun cinematically dazzles us when Bret steps out of his dad’s car, it somehow feels at once like he is narrating the movie version memory of what transpired as well as evoking the real moment itself in all its visceral immediacy.
Murphy and Ellis settle us into the yearning recollection of a simpler time, before smartphones or social media were there to distract us as we waited for a film to begin, occupied only with our thoughts and a box of Junior Mints. A time when watching a new release on the big screen or listening to an album (on vinyl of course) for the first time felt seismic, like it could alter one’s personality, one’s very being. A time when terror lurked just around the corner. As the next school year rolls around in the fall of 1981, HIV/AIDS hadn’t yet been named, but its devastating effects had started to be reported in the media that summer. The terror plaguing Bret’s fertile mind though feels closer to home, as Satanic Panic grips the nation, a local cult is breaking into LA homes and leaving its mark. Household pets are going missing, while bloody, brutalized corpses are beginning to pile up courtesy of a new serial killer the police calling the Trawler.
In steps the impossibly handsome, leather pant-clad charismatic new student, Robert Mallory (Homer Gere). Bret is instantly suspicious of anyone who would transfer high schools for their senior year, but the others in his tight-knit friendship group are more open to welcoming him into the fold. Destined to be crowned homecoming royalty are Bret’s bright and beautiful childhood friend Susan Reynolds (Kaia Gerber), with whom he confesses to us he is in love, and her dedicated, sensitive jock boyfriend of two years, Thom Wright (Graham Campbell). Rounding out the quartet is Bret’s horse-riding, coke-snorting, perpetually horny girlfriend Debbie Schaffer (Hayes Warner) who is obsessed with the desire to be featured on a local cable television show, Dance Off!, essentially an 80s version of Hairspray’s Corny Collins Show.
When Robert arrives at their lunch table on the first day of the year, Bret recognizes him as the mystery teen who left The Shining, which he vehemently denies, saying he’s never even seen that movie. Thus begins Bret’s obsession to out the new kid, first as a liar, then as a murderer as he increasingly suspects him of being the Trawler.
Although Bret has a sexually active relationship with Debbie, his actions with her are more dutiful, about keeping up appearances and going through the motions, while his passion and true feelings belong to the boys he is sleeping with. There is Ryan Vaughn (Daniel Dale), who is surreptitiously appearing in porn movies he believes no one he knows will ever stumble across just as VHS is beginning to offer a new distribution stream for adult entertainment. He calls things off with a clearly heartbroken Bret at Debbie’s start of school year party. In response, later that same night, Bret takes comfort in gaining a sense of control when he in turn calls things off with the other guy he has been sleeping with, school stoner Matt Kellner (Owen Painter). Leaving Bret looking regretful at his self-sabotage.
While adults are largely absent from The Shards—Bret’s parents are away in Europe, Thom’s father has left home, Robert is living with his aunt, whom we never meet—Debbie’s parents are a dominant force in her life and in the show. Her alcoholic rather histrionic mother, Liz (a wonderful Evan Rachel Wood)—a frustrated wealthy housewife dreaming of later-in-life stardom—is spiteful and overbearing, intent on handing down insecurities and hang ups to her only child. While Debbie’s Oscar-winning Hollywood mogul father, Terry (an effectively unsettling Wes Bentley) makes no attempt to hide his disappointment with his daughter and the resentment he harbours for the time, effort and money both women in his life have cost him.
There is something of a closeted gay Harvey Weinstein about Terry, who entertains young men in his private hot tub with promises of an entrée into the entertainment world. With Bret working on his Joan Didion-inspired debut novel, Less Than Zero, he is enticed to spend more intimate time with Terry, facilitated by the movie producer’s strikingly stylish assistant Steven Reinhardt (Jordan Roth), who encourages the young man to wear his school uniform to a private lunch but also warns him that his agenda might not align with his boss’ intentions. Complete with a restaurant run-in with Grease producer Allan Carr, as he is working on the sequel, Terry’s movie business world feels nicely fleshed out and authentic as seen from Bret’s perspective.
The show’s unhurried pace allows us to get to know the core characters, behind their blemish-free veneers, and there is time for some satisfying character development. Crucially, The Shards would succeed without the horror element, which is never relied on as a hook, but only serves to enhance the drama and dark humour as death creeps ever closer to the high schoolers. As several students go missing, Ellis and Murphy craft an intriguing and hugely enjoyable whodunnit as suspicion beings to fall upon almost every character and rifts emerge between friends and lovers.
The first few episodes especially are propelled by the heady combination of Bret’s seductive narration and the profusion of period pop anthems beginning with Ultravox’s moody new wave ballad “Vienna”, which perfectly captures the sexy, enticingly dispassionate tone of the piece with Bret yelling “this means nothing to me” at the top of his lungs out into the LA air with the roof rolled down on his convertible as it plays on his car stereo. Many of the 80s hits on the soundtrack are similarly diegetic, literal needle drops being played on characters’ stereos, helping to further envelop us in the world of the show while establishing the specificity of the time period. The music is also one of the pure pleasures of The Shards, including composers Morgan Kibby and David Klotz’s delectably synthy original score. While Cat Smith’s plush period production design never fetishizes early 80s LA, but gives us rich detail to relish. Joshua Marsh and Serrita Coleman’s opulent costume design is to die for, deftly informing us about these characters as their wardrobes shake off the 70s and embrace the new decade.
Murphy continues to display his flair for casting, resulting in an impeccable ensemble that thrillingly sparks off one another. As Bret, Rigney captures the character’s brooding blend of an obsessive, impulsive nature with his air of self-importance and emotional detachment, making him a compelling and fascinatingly impenetrable protagonist, saying so much but enticing us with what it left unsaid. A frustrating character at times, Rigney’s portrayal keeps us invested despite his questionable actions. Homer Gere brings a fun and intriguing mischievousness to Robert and makes for the perfect foil as discord simmers and the sexual tension heats up between him and Bret.
Although I’ve enjoyed Gerber’s previous screen performances, Susan gives the actress something to really sink her teeth into and she makes the most of every moment, bringing real subtlety to the glimpses of a more complex inner-life lying behind the perfect exterior of the school’s it-girl that she offers us. Campbell is adorable as the affable Thom which makes the character’s trajectory all the more effective as he begins to feel genuinely dangerous. While Warner is a joy as Debbie, bringing nuance to the spoilt brat that she appears to be from the outside, delicately rendering the jealousy of always being second place to her best friend and the building suspicions about her boyfriend’s sexuality.
One of delightful surprises of the series is Ivy Wolk’s turn as rollerblading school misfit Rhona, nicknamed “Really Rhonda” following a teacher using that phrase to denounce one of her frequent expletive-filled outbursts in class. A new character not present in Ellis’ book, Rhonda is neurodivergent and likely has Tourette’s, but given the early 80s setting it is undiagnosed, with little sympathy for or understanding of her behaviour from school staff beyond seeing her as disruptive. Bret informs us that her father pays an annual fee to ensure that she is “not locked away in the dungeon that was the special needs class”. To Rhonda’s fellow students she is “hilarious” and beloved, leaving her class, especially Bret, shaken when she suddenly disappears. With a magnetic screen presence, Wolk’s work feels enthrallingly unpredictable and in the moment.
The real revelation in the cast though is Tony-winning theatre producer, fashionista and performance artist Jordan Roth making his television debut with a commanding performance as Steven. His measured physicality and delectably drawn-out delivery, almost a whisper with an acidic bite, are utterly captivating and had me holding my breath. To call his role scene-stealing might get the point across, but suggests a self-absorbed showiness, whereas Roth’s acting is alive and generously playful with his scene-partners, while drawing the viewer in close. He has real intensity and power as an actor and thankfully his role expands as the season progresses. In a show filled with gorgeous clothes, Steven’s style is the most ravishing, telling its own story, with his sharp silhouette adding a sense of threat to his inscrutability.
Feeling something like Beverly Hills 90210 meets American Psycho via Heathers, season one of The Shards is a riveting, handsomely-crafted and hugely entertaining ride that majestically builds to a cliffhanger that’s right up there with Dallas‘ iconic “Who Shot JR?” 1980 finale. It demands another season to allow Murphy and Ellis to continue to bring their expanded vision of Ellis’ bestseller to the screen. Bret might not have been impressed by The Shining adaptation, but I think he’d love this one. It’s killer television.
By James Kleinmann
The Shards premieres Wednesday, August 5th on FX and Hulu.
Leave a Reply