Critic’s Rating: 3.7 / 5.0
3.7
With the unstoppable rise of BookTok and the relentless YA adaptation machine, there are more book-to-screen translations greenlit every year than I care to count.
But literature and television are fundamentally different mediums.
Despite the best efforts of top-tier talent, the intimate prose of a great book can still result in a shockingly mediocre screenplay.
(Ray Mickshaw/FX)
That is a long-winded way of saying the television adaptation of Bret Easton Ellis’ The Shards simply does not translate to the small screen, and its underwhelming pilot episode is the perfect example of why.
The Shards Season 1 Episode 1 is an introductory chapter that doesn’t do much other than introduce all the characters and the central conflict.
We meet Bret, the main character, who sounds like the rich friend you never want to hear talk because they always sound like they live in a different world than you.
Even the most mundane thing is amplified with big words or parallels padded with big names, and you can’t help but get a headache. These characters have become a staple of Ryan Murphy’s work since he became rich and famous.
Bret’s insights are contained in the 1980s timeline, so much of what he’s raving about doesn’t really connect with me. I don’t care about Los Angeles, Gucci, or BMW.
His love of cinema or taste in men is intriguing, but the episode rushes through most of this in narration so it doesn’t get the time to land with impact.
(Ray Mickshaw/FX)
It’s almost like Ryan Murphy and Easton Ellis know their character is not the most interesting thus far, so they try to contrast his insights to the modern world by layering criticisms of social media and what have you.
You can tell that the episode was written by middle-aged men because there is a whiny, condescending attitude most of the references carry.
Soon after, we are introduced to the main conflict, which involves the existence of a serial killer in Los Angeles.
Now I don’t know if it’s just me, but I’m tired of stories about serial killers, especially from Murphy. I have enjoyed a lot of his shows in the past several years, especially Grotesquerie, but the fatigue is real.
(Ray Mickshaw/FX)
In fact, this show catches me at a peculiar time where I’m tired of a lot: rich bastards on TV, serial killers, and characters with less than 15% body fat.
The Shards epitomizes all these with the setting and characters who can’t tell you the price of milk or a loaf of bread.
The next several scenes serve to round out Bret’s world, including his lovers, friends, schoolmates, and acquaintances.
Things get interesting when the man of the hour, Robert Mallory, enters the picture, and suddenly, the story loses direction.
One moment Bret is channeling the kind of thirst only found on TikTok or Instagram comment sections, and the next he thinks Robert is the worst thing to ever walk through his school.
The sudden shift is unexplainable, and I was confused for most of the episode, so I had to watch it twice.
(Ray Mickshaw/FX)
The second time was much better because I finally figured out we might be having a deliberately crafted unreliable narrator.
Much of Bret’s words and actions don’t make sense — his criticism of people close to him is way too harsh when they are in the same circles, and the way he switches up on Robert is suspect.
I was left formulating theories because, since we know this is a story about a serial killer, chances are Robert is the serial killer.
He has the charm and strength to easily kidnap animals and other teenagers.
However, there is also something odd about Bret, and I’m willing to bet he is also a killer. Maybe a copycat who pays homage to the reigning king of the day before he makes a name for himself.
That would explain why he is so territorial with Robert because two kings cannot rule the same small kingdom; one has to go.
(Ray Mickshaw/FX)
Bret feels threatened — and excited— by Robert’s attractiveness, charm, and strength.
To some extent, this all sounds as ridiculous as some plot lines from Riverdale, but this is the only way I feel that I can engage with this story.
Otherwise, it is an uninteresting, bloated story with too many characters and an unhealthy dose of confusion.
Things get remarkably better in Episode 2, “Don’t You Want Me,” with the theory that Bret is hiding something, locked and loaded.
Many scenes, especially those he shares with Robert, keep amping up the suspicion. I find myself doubting everything he is saying because there is little evidence to support it, if any.
And that’s where this story gets a bit frustrating because it must omit some things to keep the mystery going.
(Courtesy of FX)
Some of the best mystery shows are those that give you all the information, but it is so complex or twisted to make sense until it does.
I can’t be sure that Bret is rich or that his parents are on vacation. I can’t even be sure that he didn’t torment Matt Kelner before abducting him.
And even if he didn’t do it, there is something going on that he had a hand in.
This hour also focuses on Bret’s sexuality, forcing him to confront it directly. Instead of writing sonnets about some guy he’d seen in a movie theatre, now he has to deal with what it means to be queer and closeted.
Somehow he has what he wants but not as he wants it. His situationships keep dumping him; Robert is sizzling with sexiness, but there is some weird energy between them, and there’s Thom.
Thom is the kind of guy who is devastatingly handsome, and he doesn’t know it. He breaks hearts by just existing, and Bret’s heart breaks every time he sees Thom, but he knows he can’t have him.
(Ray Mickshaw/FX)
This kind of mental struggle is enough to twist even the healthiest minds. To borrow from the show’s writing, there is a reason young men engage in gender-based violence nowadays when they feel like they lack control.
Being brushed aside by people you shared a vulnerable part of yourself with never feels good. It doesn’t feel good for Susan’s mom, and it doesn’t feel good for Bret either.
So the evidence is overwhelming against Bret, and that’s the most intriguing thing about The Shards.
Gut Check
This might not be a horrible show, but everything about it makes me feel exhausted that this is what television has become: replicas of the same stories in a different configuration.
When you add FX’s aesthetic with the deep colors, synth music, and particular lighting, the show doesn’t have identity. It’s a better aesthetic than Netflix’s or Apple TV’s, but it becomes monotonous at some point.
(Ray Mickshaw/FX)
While a book can keep the mystery going for as long as possible since it relies on a reader’s imagination, a TV show doesn’t have the same luxury.
So it must leave out context, frame shots weirdly, or plainly ignore basic logic. That’s what The Shards suffers from.
Performances are okay, but nothing stands out even though Homer Gere inhabits his character with more ease than everyone else.
It has the potential to surprise me, but after watching numerous serial killer mysteries, it will be a long trip, and the payoff might not be worth it. But we will see, won’t we?
Intrusive Thoughts
(Ray Mickshaw/FX)
- At some point, everyone here will have kissed everyone, and that’s part of what is keeping me interested.
- This episode has some continuity issues, e.g at Galleria when Robert is sitting down, his shirt is unbuttoned, but a few seconds later when Bret approaches, it has been buttoned mysteriously.
- Pool house. What a concept! Nothing wrong with the huge house, but the pool needs a house.
Now’s your turn to chime in.
Are you a The Shards fanatic yet?
Was the pilot confusing, or am I just dumb?
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