I recently finished Horror Movie by Paul Tremblay, and I was drawn to it for several reasons. As a horror enthusiast, the prospect of exploring the “cursed film” genre intrigued me. The description of a film with only three released scenes yet still holding a rabid fanbase had me curious. I had previously enjoyed Tremblay’s work, particularly The Pallbearers Club, so I was eager to dive in.
The narrative centers around the sole surviving cast member of a notorious yet incomplete indie horror film, Horror Movie, as he ventures into the chaotic and often cynical landscape of Hollywood, all while navigating the haunting memories from the original production. This duality between past and present creates a fascinating backdrop, and while I found the writing thought-provoking, it was far less horrifying than I expected.
One positive aspect is Tremblay’s skillful intertwining of timelines and formats; I really appreciated the blend of the protagonist’s current experiences with excerpts from the screenplay. It gave the book a unique texture, and in moments, it felt like a meta-commentary on filmmaking, one that some readers might find refreshingly original. I can see why Kay_Rock noted the craft involved, as it evolved into a deeply psychological narrative, albeit without traditional horror elements. You genuinely feel the weight of the past and the burden it places on the characters.
However, even though the main character and some supporting characters were compelling, I couldn’t help but sense that they could have been developed further. This was echoed by other readers; Kelly Gunderman mentioned an expectation of more horror, which aligns with my experience. I found myself craving a deeper exploration into the whys and hows of the relationships between characters. At times, the complex narrative became a bit convoluted, and some of the present-day sequences felt disjointed, which detracted from the overall coherence of the story.
Despite the engaging prose, the pacing was uneven. As Ariella remarked, the initial brilliance gave way to a sense of confusion as the plot unfolded. I shared that sentiment, feeling at times like key plot threads were muddled. Although the movie project itself had a tantalizing premise, the story occasionally felt more like literary fiction than a horror novel, with suspense taking a backseat to psychological musings.
Another significant drawback for me was the ending. The resolution seemed almost bizarre, and I finished the book feeling a mix of intrigue and frustration, somewhat like Kay_Rock, who noted her own confusion post-reading. There’s a layer of ambiguity that’s hallmark of Tremblay’s writing, and while I appreciate the artistry behind it, sometimes I wished for a bit more clarity or resolution.
Ultimately, Horror Movie fulfilled my need for a thought-provoking read but didn’t entirely meet my horror expectations. It’s an interesting exploration of the blurring lines between reality and film, the psychological weight of past tragedies, and the way art can distort truth, themes that Tremblay executes well. It certainly has its merits, but the lack of traditional horror elements and the somewhat convoluted narrative might leave some readers feeling underwhelmed.
In conclusion, I would recommend Horror Movie to those who appreciate psychological depth and don’t need typical horror tropes to feel engaged. However, if you’re looking for a scare or a more straightforward narrative, you might want to keep searching. Overall, it’s a solid read, but with a star rating of 3.5, I’d say it’s more of a curious exploration than a horror masterpiece.