There is something gloriously addictive about The Shards. Ryan Murphy’s adaptation of Bret Easton Ellis’s novel has arrived with exactly the kind of combination that feels almost engineered to become the next big obsession: beautiful people, dark secrets, sex, jealousy, murder, 1980s excess and one deeply suspicious new boy. In other words, it is basically Cruel Intentions meets Scream, but GAY.
Set in Los Angeles in 1981, the series follows 17-year-old Bret Easton Ellis, played by Igby Rigney, and his impossibly glamorous circle of privileged prep-school friends. Their already complicated lives become considerably more dangerous when mysterious new student Robert Mallory, played by Homer Gere, arrives at school. At exactly the same time, a serial killer known as the Trawler is targeting teenagers across Los Angeles. The delicious question is whether Robert is simply the intriguing outsider Bret cannot stop thinking about, or whether there is something much darker lurking underneath.
That premise is where The Shards really hits its sweet spot. Like Scream, there is an ever-present sense that someone could be watching, lying or killing. Like Cruel Intentions, the drama is driven by attraction, manipulation, privilege and people who are far too interested in each other. But The Shards adds something neither comparison quite captures: a distinctly queer coming-of-age story in which desire, repression and paranoia are tangled together.
The cast is another major reason the show is generating attention. Rigney anchors the series with a performance that critics have singled out, while Gere brings exactly the right combination of mystery and magnetism to Robert. Kaia Gerber plays popular cheerleader Susan Reynolds, with Hayes Warner as Bret’s girlfriend Debbie, while veterans including Evan Rachel Wood and Wes Bentley add serious dramatic weight.
The soundtrack is another huge part of the show’s appeal. The 80s music does far more than simply establish the period, it becomes part of the atmosphere, giving every party, flirtation and ominous encounter an extra layer of cool. The needle drops help make Los Angeles in 1981 feel like a fantasy version of the decade, all glossy pop, new-wave swagger and teenage excess, while also creating a sharp contrast with the violence bubbling underneath. It is exactly the kind of soundtrack that makes you want to Shazam everything, then immediately build a playlist and pretend you were there.
And visually, the show is almost absurdly seductive. The production recreates 1981 Los Angeles through immaculate clothes, cars, parties, music and interiors, creating a world that looks glamorous right up until the moment something horrible happens. Viewers have already praised the production design, costumes and needle drops, while reviewers have highlighted its stylish, immersive quality.
That is ultimately why The Shards feels like such a hit already. It is not simply a murder mystery, or a teen drama, or a queer thriller. It is all three at once, wrapped in Ryan Murphy maximalism. It gives audiences something to obsess over, something to lust over and, crucially, something to theorise about. It is Cruel Intentions meets Scream, but gay, glossy, horny, paranoid and very, very dangerous.