'Longlegs' Review

FBI agent Lee Harker (Maika Monroe) reads a letter at her desk that’s been mysteriously put there without her knowledge. The door to her kitchen is open, with the flickers of light from the porch lights interrupted by a figure passing them. Or were those gaps of light just pieces of our imagination, a symptom of the descent into madness that this story requires? Whether it's from a door, window, or any four-sided structure, every frame is a gateway to hell in Longlegs. They often tend to be a frame within a frame, as writer/director Ozgood Perkins’ camera claustrophobically narrows in on its target, forcing you to project your worst fears onto the tightly restrained information it drips.

It’s no surprise that every shot is perfectly composed, each dim corner beckoning you to peel it back, if you dare. Despite a semi-limited sample size of a filmography, Perkins has displayed a mastery of his craft from the director’s chair, holding his audience captive through slow-burn tension (most audiences would rather use the word “tedious”) and dazzling imagery. One of the minor unfortunate side effects of the pandemic was Perkins’ “Better Than It Had Any Right To Be” Gretel & Hansel failing to find another life in everyone’s homes after it floundered in theaters.

Something that is surprising is that all those shots come from first-time feature cinematographer Andres Arochi. The framing is always spot-on, obscuring just enough of Nicolas Cage’s titular character for us to beg for more. Old-school polaroids and grain are the methods of choice when Perkins and Arochi display the gruesomeness that’s going on in this story. Many of these scenes have been sporadically used throughout the viral marketing campaign, which, fortunately, hasn’t diluted their effectiveness in the final product. A 911 call where a father breathes heavily while cryptically explaining how he’ll kill his family sent long-lasting shivers down my spine. The decomposed bodies of other families forced all popcorn munching in my audience to immediately stop.

The prime suspect in all this suburban death goes by Longlegs, a ghostly pale freak who loves to leave behind coded messages that spread his Satanic gospel and taunt the ever-frustrated law enforcement. Harker’s procedural work to catch him mixes a blend of Zodiac and The Silence of the Lambs, both aspects kept tightly in check as each clue gradually reveals how the puzzle pieces fit together. That is until Perkins decides to hurriedly finish it all for us near the end through an expositional monologue. This is a story where the natural dissatisfaction of the loose ends is actually what’s so satisfying about it. Tying everything up with a nice ribbon feels more like a move by Perkins to win back the mainstream crowd after his previous features got battered by CinemaScore.

Monroe is sensational in her lead role. She communicates the insular nature of her character flawlessly, keeping us both on the inside and outside. Perkins sets up her unclear psychic premonitions early on, her first vision identifying the house of a serial killer despite no other evidence. While that trait goes largely undeveloped from there, Monroe keeps the mind games going as she gets closer to the man who mentally torments her. Cage is an odd presence for this movie, his star power being too powerful to be effectively shrouded for so long, and his trademarked Cage-isms, including spontaneous singing and screaming, provoking laughter rather than menace. It’s still one of his better modern performances and continues his run of being interestingly employed by genre filmmakers (Pig, The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent, Dream Scenario).

There are a lot of similarities, both technically and thematically, between Perkins’ film and The Black Phone from a few years back. The promise of the happy nuclear family of the mid-20th century was not all it was cracked up to be, with evil lurking within the voids. Both may not have been great enough to wholly grip you as much as they intend to, but there’s definitely enough going on to burrow in your head and go home with you.