Andrea Bartz’s fifth psychological thriller, The Last Ferry Out, transports readers to the supposedly idyllic Isla Colel, where grief-stricken Abby ventures to understand her fiancée Eszter’s mysterious death. What begins as a pilgrimage of mourning transforms into a labyrinthine investigation that peels back layers of deception, revealing that paradise often harbors the darkest secrets.
Set against the backdrop of a hurricane-ravaged Mexican island, this latest offering from the New York Times bestselling author of We Were Never Here and The Spare Room delivers a compelling blend of atmospheric tension and psychological complexity. However, while Bartz demonstrates her signature skill for crafting unreliable narrators and twisted relationships, this outing feels somewhat uneven in its execution.
Plot: A Web of Lies Unraveling
The Foundation of Grief
Abby’s journey to Isla Colel begins four months after Eszter’s death from anaphylaxis—a tragic accident that occurred during what was supposed to be a romantic writing retreat. The premise immediately establishes the emotional stakes: a woman seeking closure in the place where her love died, only to discover that everything she believed about that death might be false.
The island itself becomes a character, portrayed as a once-thriving tourist destination now reduced to a skeletal community of locals and expatriates following Hurricane Diego. This post-apocalyptic tourism setting creates an appropriately isolated and claustrophobic atmosphere for the unfolding mystery.
The Expat Community: Friends or Foes?
Bartz excels at creating a tight-knit group of suspicious characters, each harboring secrets that gradually surface throughout the narrative:
- Rita/Petra: The enigmatic German expat whose corporate feminist past contrasts sharply with her island lifestyle
- Brady: The traumatized Australian whose fear of his abusive father masks deeper, more dangerous secrets
- Amari: The charismatic artist whose relationship with Eszter remains tantalizingly unclear
- Pedro: The botanist-turned-environmental extremist with a criminal past
The author skillfully plants seeds of doubt about each character, making readers question everyone’s motives and reliability. The dynamic between these expatriates feels authentic—the kind of forced intimacy that develops among displaced people sharing a remote location.
Character Development: Strengths and Weaknesses
Abby: A Protagonist in Transition
Abby emerges as a complex protagonist whose grief journey intertwines with self-discovery. Bartz portrays her evolution from a type-A control freak to someone learning to “hold still” and listen—a metaphor that resonates throughout the novel. The author’s exploration of Abby’s relationship with productivity culture and her tendency to equate worth with achievement feels particularly relevant to contemporary readers.
However, Abby’s character development occasionally feels forced, particularly in her romantic interactions with Amari. The attraction seems to serve the plot more than genuine character growth, creating moments that feel manufactured rather than organic.
Eszter: The Absent Presence
One of Bartz’s most impressive achievements is making Eszter a fully realized character despite her absence from most of the narrative. Through flashbacks, journal entries, and other characters’ memories, Eszter emerges as a people-pleaser struggling with parental expectations and her own desires for authenticity. Her decision to hide the hotel development project from Abby reveals the toxic dynamics that can exist even in loving relationships.
Supporting Cast: A Mixed Bag
The expatriate community members are well-differentiated, each possessing distinct motivations and backstories. However, some characters feel more like plot devices than fully realized people. Brady’s revelation about his passive role in Eszter’s death provides emotional impact but arrives through somewhat contrived circumstances.
Writing Style and Narrative Structure
Atmospheric Excellence
Bartz demonstrates exceptional skill in creating atmosphere. Her description of Isla Colel—from the bioluminescent bay to the crumbling Paraíso Escondido hotel—immerses readers in the tropical setting while maintaining an underlying sense of menace. The island’s post-hurricane desolation serves as an effective metaphor for the characters’ damaged lives.
The author’s background in journalism shows in her precise, clean prose style. She avoids overwrought descriptions, instead building tension through careful pacing and strategic revelation of information.
Structural Challenges
The Last Ferry Out employs multiple timelines and perspectives, including flashbacks to Abby and Eszter’s relationship and chapters from other characters’ viewpoints. While this technique provides necessary background information, it occasionally disrupts the narrative flow. Some flashback sequences feel excessive, particularly those detailing the couple’s early relationship dynamics.
The mystery structure follows a somewhat predictable pattern of red herrings and misdirection, though Bartz adds enough genuine surprises to maintain reader engagement.
Themes: Love, Loss, and Identity
The Nature of Grief
Bartz explores grief not as a linear process but as a disorienting experience that challenges one’s understanding of reality. Abby’s journey illustrates how loss can make us question everything we thought we knew about our relationships and ourselves. The author’s portrayal of grief feels authentic, avoiding both sentimentality and clinical detachment.
Expatriate Life and Escape
The Last Ferry Out examines the psychology of expatriates—people who’ve fled their previous lives for various reasons. Each character represents a different form of escape: from abuse, from corporate culture, from family expectations, from legal consequences. Bartz suggests that geographic relocation cannot truly solve internal problems, as the past inevitably follows us.
LGBTQ+ Representation
As an LGBTQ+ thriller, the novel portrays Abby and Eszter’s relationship with authenticity and depth. Bartz avoids stereotypes while honestly depicting the challenges faced by same-sex couples, particularly regarding family acceptance and societal pressures. Abby’s coming-out story and her family’s response feel genuine, though somewhat underdeveloped.
Environmental and Economic Themes
The Last Ferry Out touches on environmental destruction, corporate exploitation, and the tension between economic development and ecological preservation. The Paraíso Escondido hotel project serves as a symbol of how capitalist ambitions can destroy natural beauty and community integrity.
Critical Analysis: Where It Succeeds and Falters
Strengths
- Atmospheric Writing: Bartz creates a palpable sense of place that makes Isla Colel feel like a real location with its own personality and history.
- Complex Relationships: The author excels at portraying the messy realities of human relationships, particularly how love and manipulation can intertwine.
- Social Commentary: The novel offers thoughtful observations about productivity culture, grief, and the expatriate experience without being heavy-handed.
- Pacing: Despite its length, the novel maintains generally good pacing, building tension effectively toward its climactic revelations.
Weaknesses
- Predictable Elements: Some plot twists can be anticipated, particularly the revelation about Brady’s involvement and the corporate cover-up.
- Character Overload: With multiple suspects and complex backstories, some characters don’t receive sufficient development, feeling more like plot functions than real people.
- Convenience Plotting: Certain plot developments feel contrived, particularly how Abby discovers crucial information and the timing of various revelations.
- Resolution Issues: The ending, while emotionally satisfying, ties up loose ends perhaps too neatly, with some character transformations feeling rushed.
Comparison to Bartz’s Previous Work
Compared to Bartz’s previous thrillers like We Were Never Here and The Herd, The Last Ferry Out demonstrates her continued evolution as a writer. The novel shares thematic DNA with her earlier works—toxic friendships, unreliable narrators, and psychological manipulation—but ventures into more explicitly political territory with its environmental and corporate themes.
The Last Ferry Out feels most similar to We Were Never Here in its exploration of how well we can truly know the people we love. However, it lacks some of the psychological intensity that made that novel so compelling.
Final Verdict: A Solid but Uneven Thriller
The Last Ferry Out succeeds as an atmospheric psychological thriller that will satisfy fans of the genre, particularly those interested in LGBTQ+ representation and environmental themes. Bartz demonstrates her skill at creating complex characters and maintaining suspense throughout a substantial narrative.
However, the novel feels slightly overstretched, with some plot elements that don’t quite gel and character development that occasionally prioritizes plot advancement over emotional truth. While the mystery elements work adequately, they don’t achieve the psychological depth and complexity that might elevate the book from good to exceptional.
For readers seeking a well-crafted thriller with beautiful setting descriptions and thoughtful themes, The Last Ferry Out delivers sufficient entertainment value. Those looking for the next Gone Girl or The Silent Patient might find it somewhat lacking in psychological complexity.
The Last Ferry Out provides solid entertainment without quite achieving greatness—a competent entry in Bartz’s growing catalog that will please her established readership while potentially attracting new fans interested in diverse, atmospheric thrillers.