Silver Nitrate - Silvia Moreno-Garcia

 


Montserrat has a gift. And not just any gift, but one for bringing films to life through sound editing. Despite the bustling backdrop of Mexico City, finding inspiring film work is difficult in the 90s for a woman, and Montserrat is more than a little rough around the edges.

Unexpectedly, Montserrat's childhood friend Tristan--a once-great but since-washed up soap opera heartthrob--discovers that his new neighbor is none other than Abel Urueta, a revered horror film director. Unable to stay away, Montserrat and Tristan strike up a friendship with Urueta, and before long, find themselves bewitched by his stories of old films shot on silver nitrate, occultists, and a mysterious, cursed movie he never got the chance to finish.

As her dedicated readers know all too well, Silvia Moreno-Garcia has incredible range as a writer. From gothic horror (huge fan of "Mexican Gothic" here) to 70s thrillers, I'll be the first admit that while not all of her novels have appealed to me, "Silver Nitrate" as an ode to old-school horror set in the Mexico City film industry felt like a guaranteed home run.

Unfortunately, while Moreno-Garcia's attention to detail and character-building remains excellent, I found this to be too light on the horror and too heavy on the occult history. Overall, the story pulsed with a slow-building suspense that ultimately fizzled out into a final scene that missed the mark for me by being too sensational and without much of a foundation. Had there been more horror throughout, I think this could've been a fantastic novel, but I found it forgettable despite the unique premise and predict readers will (like me) go in with high expectations but find themselves bored before the end.

Rating: 3 Stars
Publication Details: 7/18/2023, Random House Publishing

*Many thanks to NetGalley & the publisher for providing me with my advanced review copy*


Popular posts from this blog

Let Him In - William Friend

Dreaming of Water - A.J. Banner

Notes on Your Sudden Disappearance - Alison Espach