Harlan Coben’s Shelter Is a Fun Teen Comedy Wrapped In a Mostly Competent Mystery Thriller

With over thirty novels published since the ‘90s, Harlan Coben is a well-known weaver of mystery yarns whose oeuvre has begun to receive numerous television adaptations. The latest is Harlan Coben’s Shelter, an Amazon Studios-produced YA thriller that combines teen-hangout shenanigans with a sordid, escalating conspiracy. Thanks to the chemistry between its central cast and a steady barrage of page-turning twists, it delivers a generally effective mishmash of messy high school drama and unsettling intrigue. While elements of its winding plot sometimes strain credulity, and its grave subject matter can clash with its other aspects, the camaraderie among its band of misfits mostly shines through.

The story follows Mickey Bolitar (Jaden Michael), a high schooler still processing his father’s recent death. He finds himself in Kasselton, New Jersey, a sleepy suburb where his dad grew up, and unfortunately, the echoes of his family’s former life here make healing doubly difficult. The only consolation is that Mickey quickly befriends a group of fellow outsiders, including Spoon (Adrian Greensmith), a witty but earnest classmate, Ema (Abby Corrigan), a secretive girl who takes interest in Mickey’s troubles, and Ashley Kent (Samantha Bugliaro), a fellow new kid. However, just as he begins to settle in, a string of strange occurrences, including an upsetting message from a strange older woman called the “Bat Lady” (Tovah Feldshuh) and the sudden disappearance of Ashley, reveal that this unassuming town hides grim secrets.

Even as the tendrils of a greater mystery reach out from beneath the veneer of quiet suburbia, upfront, this tale shares more in common with the teen dramedies of yesteryear than anything else. These characters worry about crushes, drama club auditions, and basketball tryouts, as their everyday struggles are afforded a similar degree of heft to their later life-or-death encounters. There is quite a bit of John Hughes in these high school shenanigans, and the banter between its central friend group is full of whip-smart quips that makes it a delight to spend time with them.

In particular, Adrian Greensmith’s performance as Spoon leaves a great impression, with his mixture of quirk, Gen-Z humor, and empathy making him the heart of this crew. I found myself laughing out loud at this group’s frequent witticisms, but underneath all the cleverness, the script conveys their deeply felt friendship, which proves to be the bedrock of the entire endeavor. This isn’t to imply that it’s all saccharine declarations, especially as Mickey’s obsession with solving the case creates tensions between them, but their bond is well conveyed.

Much of the side cast receives a similar degree of care, and although some of them initially resemble teen fiction archetypes, they just as frequently go against expectations. For instance, there’s Rachel (Sage Linder) and Troy (Brian Altemus), a pair that initially appear to be a classic foil in this kind of story—the unlikable jock and cheerleader pairing—but are eventually granted additional layers. After trying to help someone out, Rachel finds herself harboring secrets that strain her personal life as she’s pulled into the central intrigue. And Troy is a bully and jerk, but we also get glimpses into his deteriorating home situation that explains much of his behavior, making him a far more interesting antagonist than he would be otherwise.

But while much of the narrative concerns itself with the daily drama of high school life, darker clouds brood in the distance. Looming over everything is the enormity of Mickey’s recent loss and how his combination of grief and misplaced guilt make him increasingly obsessed that the same fate doesn’t meet his missing friend. Although the weight of this tragedy isn’t entirely tangible in the pilot episode, we eventually see Mickey and his remaining family break down over their loss, their pain coming across. Specifically, we see how difficult it is for our protagonist to heal while living in the town his dad grew up in, as constant reminders of the past butt into the frame. This often suffocating sense of place captures the insular nature of small communities, and even though it’s only a background element, we also see how people of color and closeted queer folks living here are stifled by the narrow-minded nature of their surroundings.

But beyond its teen hijinks and backdrop of familial grief, Shelter is fundamentally a thriller that seeks to suck its audience in with spellbinding twists. In its first episode, many of these initial hooks are so aggressive in this quest that their dissonance with the more grounded details of the rest of the story can almost come across as a tad silly (i.e., at one point, a camera dramatically pans down to suddenly reveal that a girl has a gun in her bag during cheerleader auditions, at another we see a figure who is supposed to be menacing but who sports a ridiculous face tattoo). However, these implausible details slowly begin to click together in a way that generally proves compelling. Coben is well-versed in the fundamentals of constructing this type of mystery, and the middle stretch glides with a breakneck momentum thanks to its steady drip-feed of obscured information that stimulates the imagination. It also helps that this web of unseemly mysteries is strengthened by our connection with its well-rendered characters, making it easy to worry about the dangers they’re hurtling towards.

However, while the buildup works, the series’ biggest issue is that when it finally arrives at its destination, the seedy topics it gets into can be a complete tonal mismatch with its teen comedy vibes. To avoid spoilers, I’ll just say that its eventual point of focus has an uncomfortable degree of parallels with contemporary conspiracy theories. Although the show’s source material predates things like the Q-anon phenomenon, making it clear this is an unfortunate coincidence, its narrative pivot still puts a damper on the last few episodes. And even outside this context, it feels slightly silly for these adolescents to suddenly be expected to resolve the unsavory problems they come across, the gravity of the situation contrasting against their continued quips. Another issue is that a very late-stage reveal undermines one of the season’s primary thematic thrusts, leaving the door open for potential follow-ups to adapt the rest of this book trilogy and making the ending less tidy than one would like. Even though this particular arc receives a conclusion, I wish circumstances in some of its side-character’s relationships were more concretely resolved instead of being left for a potential second season.

Although I came to Shelter expecting its central intrigue to be the star of the show, its cast of charmingly disastrous teens ended up stealing the spotlight. Between their convincing verbal spats and entertaining antics, they are a blast to root for, partially making up for the story’s eventual off-putting direction. While the endpoint of this mystery tale leaves something to be desired, the path to get there is filled with good company.

Harlan Coben’s Shelter premieres Friday, August 18th on Prime Video. 

Elijah Gonzalez is an assistant TV Editor for Paste Magazine. In addition to watching the latest anime and prestige television, he also loves film, videogames, and creating large lists of media he’ll probably never actually get to. You can follow him on Twitter @eli_gonzalez11.

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