This is a literary horror novel for film buffs. If any of those words turned you off, I’d ask that you reconsider. Children of Paradise wasn’t my favorite book of the month, but it was certainly the most interesting.
“Storie di Cinema” by blevefrancesco is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0 
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Our heroine, who calls herself Holly, has just arrived in the city and needs a job. A ramshackle indie movie theater has a Help Wanted sign in the window, so Holly steps inside. After a strange interview, she’s hired on the spot. The Paradise Theater is a once-lovely, decaying movie palace that shows an eclectic range of films, and is staffed by an equally eclectic range of employees. The crew is slow to warm up to Holly, but once she earns their trust, she’s invited into their circle, which mostly involves watching a lot of movies and talking about them.
The weirdness is already baked into the Paradise, but slow to develop. It’s a depressing place, and most of the people in its orbit are depressing (or depressed) people. It’s as if the place has them in thrall, and they can’t get out; moreover, they’re so hooked on cinema that they don’t want to. The only downside of this is that there isn’t much in the way of conventional plot: it’s more of a mood, where you’re watching these people and waiting for the inevitably horrible things to happen.
Holly picks up on it right away–odd things start happening to her almost immediately after her hire–but, as in the best psychological horror, everything could be either Something or Nothing, so she sticks around. The carnage doesn’t kick in until very late in the book, and even after it does, it’s a restrained, elegant carnage. Honestly, A24 could probably sculpt it into a very interesting art film.
Character-wise, there’s really nobody to root for here. Grudova relies a lot on types: the clueless newcomer, the beret-wearing indie girl, the rockabilly chick, and so on. The men are even less distinctive, except for the kinds of movies they like. It’s not even clear whether or not we’re meant to root for Holly, or if she’s just an observer. Quite possibly all of this is on purpose, though I’m not sure.
You do kind of have to be a movie buff to get the most out of this novel, and I’m not one of those, so I’m probably missing a good 75% of the subtext. It’s beautifully constructed. I can tell there’s a lot of there there. But without firsthand knowledge of most of the movies Grudova name-drops, I’m probably missing out. That’s not a complaint, though, as I now have a ton of movies to research and, possibly, watch.
Reading this book felt like having an uneasy nightmare. You don’t wake up screaming, but you do regain your senses wondering, “What was that all about?” And little tendrils of gloom follow you around for the rest of the day, making you look over your shoulder. If that sounds like a vibe you want to experience, Children of Paradise is a great way to get it.
