Night Film is unabashedly pulpy, dripping in italics and packed full of witches, ritual child sacrifice, secret cults, vast conspiracies, inhospitable islands, and the staples of detective noir: a grumpy investigator, his plucky assistant, a tragic femme fatale. If you are willing to give yourself over to it—the silliness (“Had I already lost my head? Not yet”), the purpling descriptions (plants “clutched at my face and arms like swarming orphans desperate for a handout, for human contact”), the overlong monologues offering easy opinions about obvious subjects (see above)—it can be a fun, fast, goofy read.

Your Rumblr Editor, Molly McArdle, reviewed Marisha Pessl’s Night Film for Bitch Magazine!