SERIES REVIEW – Prime Video’s six-episode limited series from Harlan Coben and Danny Brocklehurst fuses the tight gears of a crime thriller with the unease of psychological horror. Sam Claflin steps in as Joel “Laz” Lazarus, returning home after his father’s sudden death, and it becomes clear fast that grief rarely travels solo – old wounds, old sins, and very current anxieties tag along. All the way through, the show probes where reason gives out and the fog begins – that murky zone where either ghosts or guilt take control.

Lazarus deploys the usual Coben hallmarks yet stays surprisingly pared back. There’s no frantic detour or misdirection – instead it strips a family history layer by layer while steadily ratcheting up the tension between seemingly supernatural events and painfully human explanations. If you’re the “one more episode tonight” type, you’ll get your fix here – even if a whiff of middle-of-the-pack familiarity still clings to this latest Coben series.

“Ghosts” in the Office

Joel “Laz” Lazarus’s father, the respected psychotherapist Jonathan, appears to have taken his own life. Laz heads home to mourn with his sister Jenna, and in doing so, tears open the twenty-five-year-old scar of their twin sister’s unsolved murder. Jenna leans into her bohemian identity – chakra tune-ups, reiki by the hour – while Laz clutches at clinical logic, right up until a patient named Cassandra shows up fantasizing about killing her boyfriend, and then Jonathan “returns” to tell his son he was murdered.

From there, a classic Coben setup kicks in: unreliable perspective, unburied trauma, and old sins that never washed away. Either Laz is breaking under the weight of grief, or he’s truly encountering souls that never crossed over. Neither answer is comfortable – both carry a cost.

Fortunately, Laz has his closest friend, Seth (David Fynn). He’s both the comic pressure-valve and the level-headed compass – quick with a joke, happy to play the loud-mouthed buddy, but just as quick to speak hard truths. He’s also a cop, which is very handy once Laz starts turning those “messages” into a personal side investigation – even if that makes him look suspicious around the station.

Coben’s World, Finally in Focus

Earlier Coben adaptations (Fool Me Once, Missing You) had a habit of wandering off into side stories. Lazarus, to its credit, keeps its sights tight – the subplots serve character instead of hijacking the central mystery. Skeletons tumble from closets, bodies start to stack up, and the family truth surfaces layer by layer.

The lineup is a smart fit. Bill Nighy projects that national-treasure warmth that instantly raises the stakes once foul play is on the table. Sam Claflin threads grief, anger, duty, and the need for approval with ease – grounded and likable enough to keep even skeptics on board. Alexandra Roach’s Jenna counters him well: the “spiritual” lane isn’t a cheap gag here; it reads as one of grief’s dialects.

The pacing stalls now and then, but the show times its reveals well. The core question – breakdown or beyond the veil – isn’t window dressing; it drives the drama, and either answer reshapes how the family story lands. Compressed into six parts, that discipline suits the material.

Watchable, Sometimes Forgettable – Still Gets the Job Done

It isn’t flawless: Lazarus slips at times into the comfy lane we tag as “watchable yet fade-prone.” Even so, the balance between personal drama and crime mechanics keeps it held together. Seth deserves special mention – that mix of humor and blunt honesty keeps the story grounded, especially once Laz starts looking like a person of interest in the official investigation.

Taken as a whole, Lazarus doesn’t reinvent the genre, but it’s tighter and cleaner than several other Coben entries. The six-episode frame is the right call – it closes the loop, promises no encore, and avoids tempting fate. If you want something tense but not exhausting for a fall evening, Lazarus delivers – and might just put a few “ghosts” back in their place.

-Gergely Herpai “BadSector”-