Of course, Coben didn't write ' The Stranger' as an agoraphobe's reverie, or a cautionary tale for middle-aged lazies to point to and say, 'See? This is why we need to cancel those dinner plans.' Mainly it's a compelling tale about having one's trust violated by somebody close and the outing of secrets for reasons that are at first only know to the titular Stranger, played by Hannah John-Kamen. Most of that is completely avoidable if you never, ever leave your home. The season slavishly follows the Netflix binge model, ending each hour on a cliffhanger that tumbles right into the next anxiety-producing episode and arcing from a place of 'What in the hell is going on?' to 'How much more crazy is packed into this thing?'Ībove all, it is the sort of mystery tailored to make Generation Xers and Boomers feel less than OK about the casual dangers lurking all around them in the usual places – online exposure, tech-enabled deceit and the time-honored health hazard presented by teenagers engaging in ulcer-producing activities. The same feeling governs 'The Stranger,' an eight-episode British-produced conspiracy thriller based on the 2015 book by New York Times bestselling author Harlan Coben and adapted for television by Danny Brocklehurst, who worked with Coben on 2017's 'Safe.' (Fourteen of Coben's 31 novels are being adapted into series and movies for Netflix.) They let you know that, yes, life is better inside the house, and who wants to leave the couch anyway? Shows like 'Dateline' and the content of the entire Investigation Discovery channel validate that regardless of whatever malaise in which you may feel stuck, at least you didn't marry someone who is secretly a homicidal clown. Or even more like when you may find yourself watching 'Dateline,' not because your plans are cancelled or you have nothing else to do, but because you want to. You may come across an infomercial for a Time Life music catalog collection built around the songs and bands you listened to in college, and against your better judgment, find yourself mildly interested. What I'm referring to is subtler than that. This happens gradually and sneakily, and it isn't merely a matter of not being able to relate to certain celebrities, music or fashion trends. Live long enough, and at some point popular culture will confirm that you are getting old.

The Stranger by Harlan Coben