Last Days is about a guerrilla filmmaker named Kyle Freeman, who gets hired by a wealthy, new age spiritualism-type producer named Max Solomon (whom I can’t help but imagine being played by Toby Jones) to make a documentary about a very famous death cult from the 70s. Kyle is skeptical about doing a documentary on an event that’s been done to death by Hollywood; he’s more of an independent thinker, someone who follows his interests—but he’s got a lot of debt. So, sure, what could go wrong?
It's relatively low-concept novel (I mean, crazy death cult—we’ve seen it), but it’s the way it is told—decades later via documentary, interviewing survivors, going to locations, etc.—that is refreshing; in fact, the first half of this novel reads like it could be a season of True Detective. And if the harrowing accounts of surviving cult members aren’t bad enough, then a different kind horror starts creeping into the narrative.
This is easily the best novel I’ve read in years. Not since Simmons’ The Terror have I felt so… uneasy. I like cults (and philosophy—you could tell Nevill did loads of research) and went to school for filmmaking, so maybe I’m biased, but Last Days made me realize I’ve either been giving out too many 5-star reviews, or this is a 6/5.
After reading No One Gets Out Alive, The Ritual, and Last Days (not to mention listening to most of The Reddening on audiobook; now I gotta buy paperback and finish it), I can say that Adam Nevill is one of the best writers of horror working today. His prose is better than what the genre seems to require these days.
Last Days is a nuanced, morbid, inventive take on cults and occultism that begs for a film or TV show adaptation. True Detective meets The Blair Witch Project meets It Follows.
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