The Final Cut

I’ll admit, I was skeptical when a sci-fi author pivoted to crime—until *The Final Cut* hooked me in the first 10 minutes. Ashford’s strength here is his ability to make futuristic tech feel *lived-in*: the detective’s neural implants aren’t just window dressing; they’re a narrative ticking clock, glitching at the worst moments like a metaphor for his unraveling psyche. The mystery itself is a masterclass in misdirection, with red herrings that don’t feel cheap because the characters’ motivations are so damn compelling. Even the ‘villains’ have layers—one secondary character’s betrayal hit me harder than the main twist because Ashford had made me *like* them first. Tom Alexander’s performance is mostly stellar—his pacing is impeccable, and he nails the dry humor that keeps the bleakness from becoming oppressive. My only gripe? His female voices occasionally slip into caricature, especially for the AI characters, which feels like a missed opportunity in a book that otherwise subverts gender tropes. The sound design is subtler than I expected (thankfully), but I wished the ambient noise during action scenes had more punch—sometimes the fights felt *too* clean for a story this messy. Still, the climax’s audio flourish—a distorted voiceover layered with static—gave me chills. If you love your noir with a side of existential dread and a sprinkle of cyberpunk, this is your next obsession. Just don’t start it before bed unless you want to dream in neon and bloodstains.