1985. Gazing up at the ancient turrets of Christminster College, Ursula Flowerbutton can't quite believe she's here- Oxford, city of dreaming spires, eccentric dons and Sebastian Flyte's excesses. She can't wait to immerse herself in her History course and cut her journalistic teeth at the famous student newspaper, Cherwell.
Somewhat daunted by the poise of her fellow undergraduates, Ursula is thrilled to be befriended by the most glamorous girl she has ever seen. Nancy Feingold looks like she has walked straight off the set of Sixteen Candles, with her rippling mane of hair, perfect American smile and limitless wardrobe. She already has a bewildering number of invitations, and drags Ursula to Lord 'Wenty' Wychwood's Opening Jaunt, where the dashing second year serves champagne to the university's elite.
Ursula has read all seventy-five Agatha Christies. But even this rigorous training could not prepare her for the shocking murder scene she stumbles into on arrival at her first tutorial. Catapulted into the heart of a murky crime, and determined to bag her first scoop, Ursula sets out to discover who killed the beautiful Lady India Brattenbury.
Witty, satirical and peopled with unforgettable characters, Party Girls Die in Pearls is a captivating tale of high society, low morals and a middle-class girl.
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On campus at dreamy Oxford University, Agatha-Christie-obsessed undergrad, Ursula, meets the suave and collected Americaness, Nancy, and immediately, finds herself stepping through unknown thresholds into the sophisticated social circles she'd only percieved to be fiction.
At one such party, chaos ensues upon the discovery of a body, and naturally, Ursula embodies the insatiable gumshoe archetype we all know and love, to solve the crime, preserve her newfound socialite reputation, AND bag Lord 'Wenty' Wychwood. If only it were all so simple.
A wonderful pastiche of 80s college-age nostalgia, literally bleeding with homage to classic mystery thrillers, PARTY GIRLS DIE IN PEARLS is a wild ride, and a refreshing take on the age-old whodunnit.
Think the film Sixteen Candles x Christie's The Body in The Library. - Amy (QBD)
Guest, 18/06/2017
