My Name Is Iris

This astutely observed if uneven speculative outing from Skyhorse (The Madonnas of Echo Park) follows a second-generation Mexican American woman’s search for belonging. Recently divorced Iris Prince, the daughter of Mexican immigrants who prize hard work above all else, finds a seemingly perfect suburban home for herself and her nine-year-old daughter, Melanie, somewhere in the Southwest. One morning, they notice a wall has appeared in their front yard overnight. No one else seems to notice, despite its changing size and appearance, except for the ghost of a childhood friend who was killed in a mass shooting at a McDonald’s. Iris covets a new bracelet that is used for shopping and identification, but is ineligible because her parents were born in Mexico. When the devices become mandatory for drivers and in the workplace, her desperation pushes her to take unimaginable steps. Though the denouement is a bit implausible, Skyhorse is often witty in his portrayal of modern American excess and surveillance. A scene in a high-end grocery store echoes Don DeLillo’s White Noise, as Iris revels in the “hypnotizing experience” of promise offered by the expensive goods. Despite an overwrought plot, this satire has plenty of bite. Agent: Susan Golomb, Writers House. (Aug.)