‘The Shards’ TV Review: Ryan Murphy Reimagines Bret Easton Ellis’ Haunted Youth

‘The Shards’ TV Review: Ryan Murphy Reimagines Bret Easton Ellis’ Haunted Youth

An aspiring writer navigates sex, status and suspicion as he becomes convinced his new friend hides a connection to brutal murders haunting his city.

With novels like Less Than Zero and The Rules of Attraction, Bret Easton Ellis gained his fame as a transgressive and almost savage writer at the end of the 1980s, being himself just in his twenties. His career has extended to the present day, perhaps not very prolifically in terms of novels, but also exploring short fiction, screenwriting, and non-fiction.

His return to the present—specifically to 2023, with The Shards—caused some stir, presenting a novel that revisits the tone, characters, and situations of his early work: young privileged people moving through their lives of pleasure and comfort. Although in this case he goes further back, to 1981, focusing on a group of high school seniors involved in a criminal case that has more in common with American Psycho than with his earlier novels.

Adapted by Ryan Murphy, a prolific television creator known for titles such as American Horror Story and Monster, The Shards becomes an interesting meeting point between two sensibilities that intersect at certain points, but not at many others. Both creators have a taste for scandal, shock, and the grotesque, but their styles are different: Ellis is more inclined toward introspection, while Murphy tends more toward the external. This leads to a series that at times manages to move forward successfully, and at others feels like an odd pairing in which each one pulls in a different direction.

Given that Murphy is the one directing (several episodes, in fact), it is to be expected that the series leans more toward his sensibility. Even so, the world presented is recognizably Ellis’s. Set in Los Angeles in 1981, the story takes place within an elite high school attended by teenagers from wealthy, Hollywood-adjacent families. Among them is Bret (Igby Rigney), who narrates the story through voice-over, apparently from the present day—a constant resource throughout the series.

Bret is an aspiring writer, reading Joan Didion, working on his first novel, and maintaining a relationship with Debbie (Hayes Warner), the blonde daughter of actress Liz Schaffer (Evan Rachel Wood) and producer Terry Schaffer (Wes Bentley). At the same time, he has secret encounters with men. His group of friends includes Susan (Kaia Gerber) and her boyfriend Thom (Graham Campbell). Their daily lives revolve around parties, drugs, sex, and their convertibles.

The situation begins to change with the arrival of Robert Mallory (Homer Gere), a handsome and intriguing new student who seems to attract Bret while also unsettling him. He soon becomes part of the group, but Bret begins to suspect him. At the same time, fear spreads in the neighborhood due to the presence of two threats: a serial killer known as “The Trawler” and a Manson-style cult. As people begin to disappear—some of them close to the school—Bret becomes convinced that Robert is somehow connected to these crimes and decides to try to prove it.

From there, the series develops its plot, incorporating various twists, although also raising the possibility that the narrator himself may not be entirely reliable. Bret is, after all, writing a novel, seeking a Hollywood deal, hiding aspects of his personal life, and attempting to expose a possible murderer—all at once. It is therefore reasonable to question to what extent what he narrates is real.

One of the strongest aspects of the series is its portrayal of the era, capturing a moment of transition between decades: the beginnings of the 1980s, with their focus on brands and image, alongside the remnants of the 1970s, particularly the obsession with serial killers and cults. Bret himself reflects this contradiction, moving between a carefree lifestyle and a constant sense of unease.

Despite the twists, the storyline involving the serial killer is perhaps the least engaging element. The series works better when it focuses on the relationships between the characters—their conflicts, romances, and family dynamics—rather than on the mystery itself. In this sense, when Murphy and Ellis move away from the criminal plot, the series becomes more interesting; when they lean into it, it tends to fall into more conventional territory, closer to Murphy’s usual style.

Even so, the mystery has its appeal, and those who enjoy Murphy’s approach—along with his well-known musical choices—will likely find The Shards engaging enough overall.