The "Rear Window" Vibes Are Strong With This One

It was about 11:30 PM. I was reorganizing my shelf of "books that might be cursed" (don't ask) and listening to The Paris Apartment. The rain was hitting my window here in Oregon, but in my ears? I was in a grimy, claustrophobic, incredibly expensive apartment building in Paris. And let me tell you—this isn't Emily in Paris. There are no berets or cute croissants here. Just dread.

(Shirley, my cat, was staring at the speaker the whole time. I think she liked the French accents. Or she saw a ghost. It's 50/50 with her.)

Here’s the thing about Lucy Foley: she knows how to make rich people seem absolutely miserable. And I love that for us.

This Is Basically Audio Theater

Look, I usually preach that a single narrator needs to carry the weight of the world, but Foley writes these multi-POV stories that practically beg for a full cast. And this production? It commits. We're talking six narrators. Six.

If you get easily confused by voice switching, you might want to tap out now. But honestly? You shouldn't. Because this is how this story needs to be told.

Clare Corbett (who plays Jess, our chaotic, broke protagonist) has this raspy, desperate quality that immediately sold me on her situation. She sounds like someone who has made bad choices and is about to make a few more. Then you have the neighbors—the socialite, the drunk, the concierge. The accents are crisp, distinct, and dripping with attitude. It felt less like someone reading a book to me and more like I was eavesdropping on a building full of sociopaths through a thin wall.

(Which, let’s be real, is the ideal way to consume a mystery.)

The Atmosphere: Claustrophobia as a Genre

The sound design—or rather, the performance design—does a lot of heavy lifting here. The book is a "locked room" mystery, but the room is a whole apartment block. The narrators nail the tension of people living on top of each other, hiding secrets.

There’s this specific type of dread that comes from being in a foreign country where you don't speak the language and your brother is missing. The audio captures that isolation perfectly. When the French characters switch between English and French (or speak with that disdainful lilt), it alienates Jess—and the listener—in the best way possible. It’s effective. It made me check my own door locks.

However—and I have to be honest here—the pacing? It drags a little in the middle. We spend a lot of time in people's heads while they worry about things without actually doing anything. At nearly 13 hours, there were moments around hour 8 where I was like, "Okay, we get it, everyone is lying, can we find the body now?"

The Verdict on the Vibes

Is it the scariest thing I've ever listened to? No. It’s a thriller, not horror. But it’s got grit. We’re dealing with sex work, violence, dark family secrets—it’s not a cozy mystery.

The ending goes a bit off the rails (I won't spoil it, but... wow, okay), yet the performances kept me grounded even when the plot started doing gymnastics.

If you want a polished, polite mystery, go read Agatha Christie. If you want to feel like you're trapped in a fancy elevator with five people who might stab you, listen to this.

Just maybe don't listen in the dark if you have anxiety about neighbors. Or do. I'm not your mom.