Bless This Mess
No one wants to make a mess anymore. Who knew you were a bunch of clean freaks?
The Shards is a mess. A hot mess, which I mean quite literally: the cast of actors playing these horny, rich teenagers are so attractive that simply watching the show on mute as the camera titillatingly pans up and down their bodies 400 times an episode would be rewarding in its own right. But turning up the volume to follow how they navigate the burden of being so hot and so rich while a serial killer is on the loose in Los Angeles unleashes another level of pleasure.
The series, from creator Ryan Murphy, is based on the book by Bret Easton Ellis, chronicling a group of rich kids whose cosplay as grown-ups is interrupted when their ringleader, Brett, played by the gloriously named Igby Rigney, struggles with his connection to classmates who are disappearing and, more broadly, his sexuality. The series is an amusement park of thematic metaphors.
Would I call it good? Not while maintaining my respectability. Would I say it’s watchable? I couldn’t get through my press screeners fast enough. I would watch 400 episodes of this show.