“What the hell is going on with horror set in the 80’s? Stranger Things, IT, Super8 (technically 1979, and maybe sci-fi, but whatever, sue me. Sue me and then you’ll see all my financial life choices laid out before you, and you’ll wonder what you’ve done), that Black Mirror episode, San Junipero.
My theory is that it’s the easiest way to get rid of the smartphone. Because
A) No service and no battery doesn’t cut it
B) They provide too-convenient filming, which means no convincing other people you saw something
C) There’s nothing more boring in a movie/book than someone tapping away on a computer or phone
Anyway, My BFF’s E (I added an F. Again, SUE ME).
To explain how I feel, minor spoilers (although one could argue these spoilers are contained in the book’s title).
The thing is, you, the reader, know what’s happening. You know the titular BF is possessed. You know that, and our main hero knows that, but it takes 80% of the book to convince anyone else of this fact, and to convince our hero of it to the point she’s willing to do something about it.
It’s weird because I don’t feel like this book is trying to make you, the reader, doubt that the BF is possessed. It never really twists you away from thinking that, never tries to make you wonder whether or not the friend is possessed. The book sort of…drags out the part between the possession and the part where we get down to horrifying. It felt a little like Batman V Superman (which is not a comparison I planned to make until just now, but here goes) in that you’ve got the title, My Best Friend’s Exorcism, so you assume that you’ll be seeing said best friend’s exorcism, and it feels like they really make you wait for it. And the stuff in between, while not bad by any stretch, started to wear thin for me. It was a lot like, you know how there’s that part in a horror movie where there’s a night watchman, and he sees a figure in the dark and he’s like, “Frank? Frank, is that you?” And you’re like, “C’mon, dumbass. That fucker doesn’t even have a head! When are you going to figure out that’s not your buddy Frank and get the fuck out of there!?” But the night watchman never listens and the monster gets ridiculously close, at which point you’re like, “You know what? This guy’s too stupid to live anyway.” You know that whole thing? A lot of this book was like that. You sitting there, wondering when the hell everyone in the book was going to figure out what you already know. Which is a needed element in horror, but there was a whole lot of it here.
I think I understand the book, and what I (think I) understand is that this book is saying something about the fragility and strength of friendship, and it’s doing so using the lens of horror. Someone fears something, and they write a book, but not exactly about that thing. About something related to that thing. The lie that tells the truth truer, as a friend would say. In this case, the truth is that friends will drift, fade, piss each other off, and rarely last forever. The lie that makes that truth easier to explain and listen to is the idea that your friend isn’t really your friend anymore because she’s possessed by a demon.
Aside from one pretty good scene (which I won’t spoil) the horror elements didn’t push my buttons, and like I was saying, almost nothing horrific happens until the last 20% of the book. I’d have liked to see more spread out along the way, keep me going. Like ET with those Reese’s Pieces. You can’t just put a pile by the door and expect that little bastard to scarf them down. You have to spread them out, make a trail.
If you dug the aforementioned San Junipero episode of Black Mirror, then I bet you’ll like this one. I’ll probably go down in history as the only person who didn’t love that one (I mean, what’s the conflict there? I already said I don’t love it, so I might as well go all out: I feel like it’s a silly Would You Rather because both choices are good. Sweet release of death or awesome party heaven? Either way, SIGN ME UP!).
The gorehound in me wasn’t satisfied. And I didn’t feel a rising, ratcheting-up feeling of dread either. It’s pretty fun, and it’s a quick one, and there’s stuff in here that’ll certainly resonate with some readers. But for me? Eh, I get why my friends don’t hang out with me. I’m kind of an asshole. “