13 REASONS WHY (Tom McCarthy) premieres on Netflix on March 31, 2017. Rating: NNN

Degrassi meets Gone Girl in 13 Reasons Why, Netflix’s new YA series about a teen girl who leaves her last testament on audio cassettes before she commits suicide.

Based on Jay Asher’s best selling novel – and directed by the likes of Tom McCarthy (Spotlight) and Gregg Araki (Mysterious Skin) – the show boldly tackles bullying, rape and depression with devastating frankness and admirable attention to detail. But the ludicrous format of the story can also give way to plenty of frustrating moments.

Before committing suicide, Hannah Baker (a wonderful Katherine Langford) records thirteen cassettes as if she’s painfully aware that a series must commit to so many episodes. Each cassette is an account that points to a boyfriend, girlfriend, bully or creep who had some role, big or small, in Hannah’s cascading turmoil. It’s a setup that is both for and about binge-watching, leaving you hanging until the very end to figure out what pushed Hannah over the edge.

You can’t shake the queasiness when serious issues unspool like a mystery thriller. Nor can you really buy into a suicide note so painstakingly structured. Every person indicted in the tapes must listen all the way through and then pass it on to the next person – the most incriminating hot potato. Meanwhile, a wise young Latino owl (Christian Navarro), who at one point is referred to as “unhelpful Yoda,” keeps watch, making sure the listeners abide by the rules or else…

When the series begins, the tapes land with Clay (Dylan Minnette), our meek, mopey and awkward protagonist who was Hannah’s close friend and thwarted love interest. As he reluctantly rolls through the cassettes, dreading the moment when his name gets called, we sift through flashbacks. And that’s when the smart, sincere and often sweet high school drama comes alive.

13 Reasons Why is at its best when you can drown out the creaky contraption spinning its master narrative and soak up the intimate, vibrantly painful moments between kids who feel authentic. The show, boasting a terrific ensemble cast, is attuned to meaningful small gestures – and the worst instincts that even good kids have.

Not a single character is underserved. The predators have a sympathetic side, the most insignificant players are fleshed out and the parents who are left in the dark while this teen whodunit plays out are regular, deeply felt reminders of the tragic stakes.

There’s a thoroughness here that is evident in the diversity of characters (in ethnicity and sexual-orientation) and issues, making sure that every fine point about consent, neglect, poverty and self-medication is addressed. It can also feel clunky, but it’s appreciated nevertheless.

You can’t underestimate how instructive this show could be for a teen audience and the parents struggling to decipher them. If getting its message across means rolling it up in a slick and entertaining package, so be it.