On a damp October night, beautiful young Ashley Cordova is found dead in an abandoned warehouse in lower Manhattan. Though her death is ruled a suicide, veteran investigative journalist Scott McGrath suspects otherwise. As he probes the strange circumstances surrounding Ashley’s life and death, McGrath comes face-to-face with the legacy of her father: the legendary, reclusive cult-horror-film director Stanislas Cordova—a man who hasn’t been seen in public for more than thirty years.
For McGrath, another death connected to this seemingly cursed family dynasty seems more than just a coincidence. Though much has been written about Cordova’s dark and unsettling films, very little is known about the man himself.
Driven by revenge, curiosity, and a need for the truth, McGrath, with the aid of two strangers, is drawn deeper and deeper into Cordova’s eerie, hypnotic world.
The last time he got close to exposing the director, McGrath lost his marriage and …
On a damp October night, beautiful young Ashley Cordova is found dead in an abandoned warehouse in lower Manhattan. Though her death is ruled a suicide, veteran investigative journalist Scott McGrath suspects otherwise. As he probes the strange circumstances surrounding Ashley’s life and death, McGrath comes face-to-face with the legacy of her father: the legendary, reclusive cult-horror-film director Stanislas Cordova—a man who hasn’t been seen in public for more than thirty years.
For McGrath, another death connected to this seemingly cursed family dynasty seems more than just a coincidence. Though much has been written about Cordova’s dark and unsettling films, very little is known about the man himself.
Driven by revenge, curiosity, and a need for the truth, McGrath, with the aid of two strangers, is drawn deeper and deeper into Cordova’s eerie, hypnotic world.
The last time he got close to exposing the director, McGrath lost his marriage and his career. This time he might lose even more.
Night Film, the gorgeously written, spellbinding new novel by the dazzlingly inventive Marisha Pessl, will hold you in suspense until you turn the final page.
This was another book where I enjoyed it...until the end. If you are going to take me down a supernatural road, you better not Scooby Doo me at the end. Don't tell me there are g-g-g-ghosts and then have it turn out to be the creepy old man from the gas station.
Still, I enjoy Ms. Pessl's writing and character development, so I suspect I will be reading Neverworld Wake at some point. I especially enjoyed the description of Cordova's films. I wish they had been real.
This got a bit messy near the end, but I'm willing to overlook that because the rest of it was SO FUN.
The book opens with a reclusive director's daughter committing suicide. A washed up journalist who lost his credibility by reporting on the director in the past is compelled to investigate the suicide. A mystery unfolds that has him trotting all over Manhattan (along with two unlikely sidekicks) in his quest for the truth.
If I look at a book from the standpoint of what it made me experience, this one didn't just leave me sitting there in the movie theater. I was constantly involved and rarely skipped over anything, plus I exited with an inchoate understanding that I lacked on entering.
The conclusion, oddly, reminded me of the ending of Portnoy's Complaint--“Perhaps now we can begin.” which Roth dubbed a punchline. I couldn't escape noticing that Cordova's films all have ambiguous or unsettled endings, the unsettledness being the point, but though Night Film ends somewhat in that fashion, it is really more settled than it appears in that now we can really begin to live, not because we've slaughtered the lamb (a reference to Cordova's philosophy of life) but because we've ceased to chase or be chased. At least I hope so. That's the conclusion you hope to reach sooner or later (getting …
If I look at a book from the standpoint of what it made me experience, this one didn't just leave me sitting there in the movie theater. I was constantly involved and rarely skipped over anything, plus I exited with an inchoate understanding that I lacked on entering.
The conclusion, oddly, reminded me of the ending of Portnoy's Complaint--“Perhaps now we can begin.” which Roth dubbed a punchline. I couldn't escape noticing that Cordova's films all have ambiguous or unsettled endings, the unsettledness being the point, but though Night Film ends somewhat in that fashion, it is really more settled than it appears in that now we can really begin to live, not because we've slaughtered the lamb (a reference to Cordova's philosophy of life) but because we've ceased to chase or be chased. At least I hope so. That's the conclusion you hope to reach sooner or later (getting there is long with many underground tunnels) and while waiting for you, it sends you a postcard that says "Someday soon you’ll come."
Cordova, in case you haven't already read it elsewhere, is the cult film director who is the White Whale (as opposed to the MacGuffin) of this story.
Picasso, one of those who we are told was forced by personal demons to create powerful work, has said "Art is a lie that makes us realize truth." Turns out there isn't any other way. Art has to lie and the truth requires lies to point us there. So, read it till you get there, someday soon.
Pessl's first novel, Special Topics in Calamity Physics, had an unusual effect on me. I didn't The Passage- orPresumed Innocent-love it, and it didn't make me a wreck for five days like The Road; what I would say it did was it delighted me. It was slow going and awfully pretentious for a while, but by the time it was over I thought I'd been jolted by low-level current and things were still kind of buzzy and I didn't have full feeling in my extremities. Ok, not that last part. The point is, I really liked it, and I'd been excited about her next book for a long time.
... And it, Night Film, I mean, was ok. It was pretty good. It was [other noncommittal adjective]. The first two thirds read like a very well-written mystery/thriller, including even one goose-bumpy moment that made me hope the payoff was going …
Pessl's first novel, Special Topics in Calamity Physics, had an unusual effect on me. I didn't The Passage- orPresumed Innocent-love it, and it didn't make me a wreck for five days like The Road; what I would say it did was it delighted me. It was slow going and awfully pretentious for a while, but by the time it was over I thought I'd been jolted by low-level current and things were still kind of buzzy and I didn't have full feeling in my extremities. Ok, not that last part. The point is, I really liked it, and I'd been excited about her next book for a long time.
... And it, Night Film, I mean, was ok. It was pretty good. It was [other noncommittal adjective]. The first two thirds read like a very well-written mystery/thriller, including even one goose-bumpy moment that made me hope the payoff was going to be a lot cooler than it was. After about 90 (short) chapters, it tried to become Literary Fiction, capital L, capital F, and characters went through Trials and Made Choices and were Transformed and there was Symbolism and Thought-Provoking Ambiguity and it was all kind of twee. Not every question was answered, and I suppose that's the way life is, but there were a couple you might have liked to see tied up in little bows. I don't think it was just me, I think you're deliberately led to expect a more remarkable conclusion than you get.
It is well-written, even the dialogue is well-written, which is a compliment, but is also a backhanded one. Pretty much every character in the book sounds like Marisha Pessl when they talk. Marisha Pessl has a wonderful vocabulary and rhythm and writes evocatively, but the reason you notice that is that not everybody is like that, least of all fictional characters, whose personalities and presences you would prefer be varied and interesting. Dialogue-wise, I missed Elmore Leonard at times for reasons beyond his having recently died.
This is all coming out sounding more negative than the book deserves, though, because it is an absorbing story, you genuinely care about the characters you're supposed to be caring about, and you never quite know what's going to happen next, and you're in a hurry to find out. Not bad! Just not fantastic. In-between.
