Skip to main content

Harlan Coben’s Lazarus: Dark and Twisty Crime on Prime Video

 

Harlan Coben's Lazarus

At first glance, Harlan Coben’s Lazarus might seem like a familiar setup—ghosts helping solve crimes. But if you’re expecting something along the lines of Ghost Whisperer, think again.

This series takes a much darker, more psychological approach. The supernatural element is not comforting or sentimental—it’s unsettling, ambiguous, and often disturbing.

A Crime Story Packed With Twists

At its core, Lazarus is a gripping crime story filled with well-executed plot twists.

Every time you think you’ve figured things out, the narrative pulls the rug out from under you. These twists work—they feel earned rather than forced, which keeps you invested all the way to the final episode.

This is the kind of show where you constantly question your assumptions, the characters reveal unexpected layers, and the truth is always just out of reach.

Characters That Keep You Guessing 

One of the most intriguing aspects of the show is how it handles its characters.

Joel (Sam Claflin) comes across as someone trying to understand a reality that’s bigger than him. He doubts what he is seeing at first, but can't stop coming back and following through, even when everyone tells him to stop.

His father (Bill Nighy) is the wise figure, even when his actions are questionable, to say the least. His final epiphany feels like an important warning—but it's not fully understood until it’s too late.

And then there’s Aidan (Curtis Tennant).

"It's Not Over"

From the very beginning, this is all you have from Dr. Lazarus ' suicide note. I'm sure that many theories went through your mind, but I bet you'd never guess...

From the very beginning, something feels off about Aidan. His behavior is strange, unsettling, and hard to explain. If the timeline matched, you might even suspect him outright—but it doesn’t, which makes it even more intriguing.

There’s a particularly eerie moment when he shows up at Laura’s (Roisin Gallagher) door. The way he speaks to her is… off. Suspicious. You immediately feel something is not right.

A Psychological Ending That Raises Big Questions

The ending is where Lazarus really stands out—especially if you’re interested in psychology.

It doesn’t just wrap things up. Instead, it:

  • Leaves you thinking
  • Raises uncomfortable questions
  • Lingers in your mind long after it’s over

And honestly? It’s a bit frustrating that it’s only a miniseries. This story feels like it could go further.

Can You Break the Cycle?

One of the most compelling themes in the show is this: Can a cycle truly be broken—or will the next generation repeat it?

This question drives the emotional weight of the story and connects directly to a classic debate:

Nature vs. Nurture: What Defines Us?

The series subtly explores whether people are shaped more by:

  • Genetics (nature)
  • Environment (nurture)

Are certain behaviors inevitable? Or can they be changed with the right conditions?

Does Aidan behave the way he does because he's Dr. Lazarus's grandson? Could a loving home and a sense of belonging prevent it? Was it genetics, or the fault of his mother's mistakes? And why? We can't forget that Margot (Amanda Root) was killed with the same weapon he was carrying at Laura's.

Lazarus doesn’t give easy answers—and that’s exactly why it works. It invites the viewer to reflect rather than just consume.

More Than Just Entertainment

Harlan Coben’s Lazarus is a solid crime thriller, a dark and engaging mystery, and a psychological story that challenges you.

It’s good entertainment—but it’s also more than that. It makes you think. It makes you slightly uncomfortable. And it leaves you with questions you don’t fully know how to answer.

And maybe that’s why it feels like it deserved more than just a miniseries.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Gangsta Granny – Hilarious and Surprisingly Moving

  I have a ten-year-old daughter, and one thing we like to do is read the same books so we can talk about them afterward. Gangsta Granny was a birthday gift for her, and she read it so quickly that it immediately made me curious. When a child finishes a book that fast, you know something is working. When I finally read it myself, I was pleasantly surprised — and completely charmed. A Story That Is Funny and Moving At first glance, Gangsta Granny is a crazy, over-the-top, and very funny story. David Walliams clearly knows how to make children laugh, using absurd situations, exaggerated characters, and a fast-moving plot that keeps young readers hooked. But beneath the humour, the book is also sweet, touching, and emotionally rich. What starts as a wild adventure slowly reveals a story about family, loneliness, empathy, and learning to truly see the people around us. This balance reminded me of Roald Dahl’s books , where outrageous humour and emotional depth coexist effortles...

The Handmaid’s Tale – From Brilliant to Frustrating

  When The Handmaid’s Tale first aired, it felt sharp, terrifying, and painfully necessary. I wrote about the first season as a dark and brilliant adaptation, one that used restraint, symbolism, and dread to tell its story. Now that I've finished the third season, my opinion has shifted — not wholly, but noticeably. The show is still good . Sometimes very good. But it also became frustrating, uneven, and less powerful than it could have been. June Osborne: From Survivor to Exhaustion Let’s talk about June (Elisabeth Moss, Mad Men ). I understand the idea behind her arc. She was meant to evolve — to become more confident, more assertive, more dangerous. A woman shaped by trauma who stops surviving and starts fighting back. On paper, it makes sense. On screen, however, it often doesn’t work. June becomes reckless to the point of irresponsibility. She repeatedly puts others in danger without seeming to fully care about who might be caught in the crossfire. Her actions feel impuls...

Breaking Bad: When Desperation Redefines Morality

  Breaking Bad is often praised as one of the greatest television series ever made—and I definitely agree. Beneath its gripping plot and intense character arcs lies a deeply unsettling exploration of morality, identity, and the human capacity for self-justification. At its core, the show asks a haunting question: what happens when an ordinary person is pushed past their limits—and keeps going? Walter White: From Victim to Architect of Chaos Walter White (Bryan Cranston) begins as a man we instinctively sympathize with—a struggling high school chemistry teacher facing a terminal illness. His initial decision to cook methamphetamine is framed as an act of desperation, even sacrifice. He wants to provide for his family after his death. But that justification doesn’t hold for long. As the series progresses, Walter’s transformation becomes less about survival and more about control, pride, and power. The tragedy is not just that he becomes a criminal, but that he chooses to contin...