GOODREADS SUMMARY | Bond Street Books | Hardcover, 624 pages | Publication Date: August 20th, 2013 | Adult Fiction | Thriller | Mystery |Suspense | Rating: 5 out of 5 Stars
Scott McGrath’s obsession with reclusive film maker Stanislas Cordova almost killed his career as an investigative reporter. Now, years later, it seems that he will be pulled back in to his world again. With the apparent suicide of Ashley Cordova, Scott’s accusation against Stanislas becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. The family seems to be cursed; and anyone that had ever starred in his films doesn’t seem to come back the same person. What was it about this man that makes him untouchable? So untouchable, that not one of the actors or actresses ever want to talk about their experiences? What was it that drove him to create some of the most brilliant, terrifying horror films only to regress into a life of a hermit?
The last time Scott tried to get close to the director, he lost his career and his marriage – on the same day. This time, the stakes seem higher. The closer he gets to the truth, the more he realizes that what he’ll discover might end in frightening consequences. Ghosts? Black Magic? Satanic cults and practices? Scott might just lose more than his career when the dust settles.
If Alfred Hitchcock and Stephen King partnered up to create the most frightening project ever known to man, we’ll call that, “perfection”. But if they decided to to bring in M. Night Shayamalan’s brilliant
sometimes, lame twists, then Night Film would be the end result of that endeavour. That’s the only way I could perfectly explain the book. A couple of nights ago, I was on the tail end of a weekend-long flu. In my drug-induced insomnia, I decided to pick up this book.
That was not a good idea. If you’re like me, cold meds tend to make my heart palpitate. As soon as I saw that this book uses multi-media to heighten the thrill, I knew I was not going to sleep with the lights off. This book has all the makings of my ideal horror read. It had sinister ghosts, satanic cults, curses and a frightening mansion that held witness to every single gruesome film Cordova has ever created. Then in the end, it fucked with my head.
I’ve merely gleaned over what the book is about. True horror aficionados would appreciate the mind fuck that it will put them through. I, on the other hand, was able to appreciate the fact that it’s not the type of grisly horror wherein blood was practically the ink that was used to write the book. It’s mostly psychological; the kind that just when you think you’ve got it all figured out, the rug will be pulled out from under you.
Brilliant. Absolutely, brilliant.