Longlegs

Overview

Faces carve deep impressions in Longlegs, in both their presence and their absence. As Agent Lee Harker, Maika Monroe (God Is a Bullet) does so with a clenched jaw, permanently on-edge eyes and mere bursts of words, aka the guise of a woman who'll never stop being vigilant in every moment but doesn't always know exactly why. As the movie's namesake, as announced in the opening credits, Nicolas Cage (Dream Scenario) has audiences straining to catch whatever glimpse they can whenever they can — and when a full look comes, it's scorching and haunting in tandem in the stare alone. Blair Underwood (Origin) gives Harker's boss Carter a weary gaze, but with fully rounded life experience beyond his FBI gig evident behind it. Alicia Witt (Switch Up) plays Ruth Harker, mother to Lee, as distance and struggle personified. As she relays a tale as survivor Carrie Anne Camera, Kiernan Shipka (Twisters) demonstrates how disconnected a grim reality can be from a dream.

For his fourth feature following 2015's The Blackcoat's Daughter, 2016's I Am the Pretty Thing That Lives in the House and 2020's Gretel & Hansel — the first of which also starred Shipka — writer/director Osgood Perkins has clearly assembled an excellent cast for his unease-dripping, get-under-your-skin, torment-your-nightmares serial-killer thriller. Another face leaves an imprint beyond his actors, however. Bill Clinton's portrait assists with setting the scene as it adorns bureau offices, with the majority of the movie taking place in the 90s. Think the FBI and three decades back, and there's no lack of pop-culture touchstones. The Silence of the Lambs is one. Monroe's portrayal as a newly minted operative tracking a murderer is every bit as layered, complex and unforgettable — and awards-worthy — as Jodie Foster's (True Detective: Night Country) Oscar-winning performance was. 

Twin Peaks and The X-Files, Point Break, even Cage's own Face/Off: they all also hail from the 90s and spin stories around the Federal Bureau of Investigation. This lineage is impossible not to ponder every time that Perkins reminds Longlegs viewers of the period that he's working with via Clinton's likeness — and it's a bold move. Getting your audience recalling other films and TV shows can simply spark the wish that they were watching those titles instead, especially when the list is as glorious as the aforementioned flicks and series. But the filmmaker who first started out in horror as a child actor walking in his father's footsteps — Anthony Perkins played Norman Bates in Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho; Osgood was young Norman in Psycho II — makes good on the gambit. No one with their peepers glued to Longlegs would rather be ingesting anything else, no matter how equally exceptional, as it weaves its hypnotic spell.

Longlegs bedevils and bewitches early, and earlier than its main era. The pristine snow that surrounds a young girl (Lauren Acala, Motherland: Port Salem) in her yard is a visual blank slate, soon darkened in shadow when Longlegs arrives with happy birthday wishes — and the mood, as thrumming through in feature first-timer Andres Arochi's cinematography, plus Graham Fortin (Ari's Theme) and Greg Ng's (Allegiance) editing, is as thick as the white blanket across the ground with apprehension and tension. When the movie hops forward, already festering is the feeling of an innocent state sullied. That's before learning about Harker and Carter's case, with a string of murder-suicides resembling each other garnering their attention. Families perish, fathers attacking before turning their violence upon themselves, which might be open and shut if there weren't a spate of such incidents over decades, if questions about motive weren't glaring, if a compulsive force — supernatural or otherwise — hadn't earned some thought and if letters in code signed by Longlegs weren't also found at the scenes.

There's more than a tightly wound ball of anxiety to Harker, who sports a surname that brings being pursued and toyed with by Dracula — who Cage played in 2023's Renfield — to mind. (Longlegs is the second 2024 horror film to nod to Bram Stoker in its characters' monikers, after Ishana Night Shyamalan's The Watchers.) The movie's lead is also a source of intuition and perhaps clairvoyance, which the FBI is keen to capitalise upon. Indeed, that's why she's been assigned to the Longlegs investigation. She's as dedicated as dedicated comes when sifting through the analogue array of clues, too, with paper and tape amid dimly lit, cabin-esque interiors adding to the tactile sensation. As terse phone calls with her mum illustrate, there's nothing distracting her from her gig, either. Via framing, frequently with symmetry, Perkins conveys that Harker isn't just consumed by chasing down Longlegs — it might be the on-screen fate of ample detectives, including in Se7en and Zodiac, two David Fincher masterpieces that are also patent influences, but the hunt is consuming her back.

With the fellow chillers that beat Longlegs to existence, and with elements as familiar in horror as serial killers, the occult, crime-solving procedural crusades, fixated sleuths and all-encompassing disquiet — to name just a few genre go-tos plastered across Perkins' cinematic mood board — the approach is fondness-meets-the filmmaker's own interpretation. That's the picture's guiding principle everywhere, including in Monroe and Cage's immense contributions, each of which is among their respective career highlights. All of Longlegs' key parties know that viewers have seen plenty of these same pieces before in a myriad of ways, and possess a single-minded resolve to avoiding serving up the same. Monroe does this with It Follows and The Guest on her filmography, the 2014 one-two punch about evil lurking among the ordinary and safe spaces terrorised. Cage does it with four decades of efforts that've solidified him as not just a singular actor but the singular actor, and ceaselessly able to surprise.

Perkins crafts Longlegs as a dollmaker might, with the utmost of care apparent in each and every component, all building a creation that feels like it's staring piercingly back at you. He isn't afraid of a surreal Lynchian vibe, showing that waking life can immerse you in as much of a frightscape as the worst that your brain can conceive while slumbering — perhaps the most-alarming realisation that there is — but, again, as run through his own filter. He also isn't scared of using sound design to burrow that agitation deep into the audience's subconscious, so that Longlegs is distressing your soul before you, like Harker, are even aware. Chief among the film's strokes of genius is how inescapable its intense dread is, regardless of which traditional horror symbols taunt those watching or how much of Cage as Longlegs can be seen. In an instant classic, all of its pivotal faces are mirrors, then, reflecting the viewer's own.