Longlegs: An Ethereal Nightmare

I’ve been up for the past few days grappling with my experience watching Oz Perkin’s new serial-killer thriller film Longlegs. The story of a young, troubled woman FBI agent hunting a sadistic psychopath is a trope that has been the foundation for many films, most famously in Silence of the Lambs. And yet, while the components of the story are relatively simple in Longlegs, Perkins has put these basic notes together to create a symphony that isn’t quite a masterpiece, but is a symmetrical harmony that has evokes feelings of dread, anxiety, and fear that have stuck with me.

The story follows FBI Agent Lee Harker, played by Maika Monroe, who is tasked in finding an elusive serial killer who goes by the name “Longlegs”. The murders span over about 20 years, all cases involve fathers who killed their families and themselves with no signs of forced entry. The most intriguing common denominator is a note left at every crime scene, signed “Longlegs”. With no other clues or leads, Harker is assigned to the case partly due to her pseudo-psychic ability. She shows some signs of clairvoyance, although the film never explains the true extent of her abilities. However, as her superior Agent Carter (Played by Blair Underwood) says, “Half-psychic is better than no psychic.”

If you noticed that I left out the presence of Nicolas Cage in that setup, it’s because the marketing of the film left him out too. Nicolas Cage plays the role of the serial killer Longlegs, and the film has cleverly avoided revealing Cage’s appearance in the lead-up to this film. I think it works to the film’s advantage, building anticipation to the point I was genuinely frightened at the first glimpse of Longlegs. I will make one note on Cage’s performance in this film: it’s a lot to handle as an audience member. He dials it up, giving us a glam-rock, Botox hyper-infused energy that shocks the senses and keeps you off-balance. I personally feel the performance works well, it juxtaposes the vibe of the rest of the film and Cage isn’t in the film enough to the point it becomes overbearing. Some may feel that his performance is too over-the-top and takes you out of the movie a bit, which is a criticism I can understand even if I don’t totally agree with it.

The main factor in my fear wasn’t Cage’s performance, but rather the film’s overarching style itself. Perkins uses a variety of frame aspect ratios, playing with the boundaries to create a surreal environment. The dark, stormy clouds that blanket the skies of Oregon give an opaqueness and lack of saturation that summons an aura of dread, contrasted by the deeper colors that surround the characters when indoors. The neighborhoods and houses are almost completely absent of life and have a symmetrical design to them. Each set piece feels like a painting that you would find in your grandparents’ house. These style decisions allow each frame to draw the audience in, adding to the tension as you are anticipating the something or someone to jump out at any moment. And yet, there are very few jump scares in the film. Perkins does a good job building that tension, and then subverting your expectations by not bursting that tension with a cheap, predictable jump scare. When there are “jump scares”, they happen at unexpected moments and aren’t loud, rather a transition of color or dissolve that fits the stylistic choices that Perkins had embedded in the film. I found myself constantly scanning every corner of each shot, looking for clues of the next ominous shadow to walk into the background or glowing pair of eyes to appear. The film wrong-foots the audience at every turn though, disorienting you just enough so that you become hyper aware of every dark corner.

I’m not sure this film would work as well on a rewatch. If you know the beats of the film already and those feelings of anxiety and dread aren’t taking ahold of you, then it’s easy to pick apart the plot. The mechanics of the investigation are mostly glossed over, it’s mainly a vehicle to get exposition to the audience rather than getting to see Harker methodically breakdown problem and solve the case. Harker is aggressively anti-social and quiet, and while Monroe’s performance is good there just isn’t much that her character does. On top of all that, the third act takes a turn where the movie risks slipping through its own fingers. But seeing this movie for the first time in a theater helps fulfill most of the hype that the marketing has built. Sure, I can find holes in the story and issues with the performances if I look long enough. What I can’t find is the legitimately terrified feeling I had watching this film. All my muscles from my shoulders up were wound so tight, and after the credits rolled I had to take a moment to breathe so I could bring myself back down to reality.  At the end of the day, that’s what movies should be about, right? The emotions and feelings that a film elicits inside of you, whether that’s fear, sadness, or excitement. As we become increasingly desensitized to everything that is happening in the world, it’s worth noting when a film like Longlegs does evoke emotion.