LONGLEGS. Silence of the EVILambs [REVIEW]

Every so often, a discussion arises about whether a concept like elevated horror exists, which refers to a contemporary, intertextual version of the horror film genre. This movement is theoretically based on numerous hidden subtexts, an auteur tone, psychological depth, and philosophical insight. Many older generation directors might doubt that this is truly a new phenomenon, arguing that the genre has never been solely based on entertainment value and scaring the audience. Typically, works by Robert Eggers, Ari Aster, or Jordan Peele, and especially the A24 studio, are cited as examples. Sticking to this nomenclature, often inaccurately used and open to many inconsistent interpretations, Osgood Perkins’ Longlegs turns out to be a textbook example of elevated horror. It is also the first such precise application of this controversial paradigm in a long time, and more importantly, it’s a genuinely good film. Perkins, similar to Ti West with X, Pearl, and MaXXXine, has a great passion for the history of horror cinema, utilizing long-discarded technical and stylistic solutions from the analog era. Both are endowed with the ability to astonishingly root their films in past aesthetics.

Longlegs distinctly smells like 90s thrillers, with The Silence of the Lambs and Se7en at the forefront. Instead of focusing on playing with familiar figures, a light tone, and winks at the audience, it proposes immersion in a world made up of pieces from other films, but bound together with the strong adhesive of auteur maturity. As the film progresses, more and more satanic and brutal horror is applied to the genre of bleak neo-noir crime, set in an apathetic world devoid of any hope. The film draws heavily from many other esteemed works, but paradoxically leaves an impression of freshness.

The density of character and built atmosphere in a film where words like “gloomy” or “ominous” would be understatements is set not only through outstanding cinematography and lighting but also through strategically chosen actors. The lead role is played by Maika Monroe, who has been immersed in various horror films for years, best known for the epochal It Follows. Portraying FBI agent Lee Harper, she chooses a minimalist acting style that aptly combines with her character’s fatigue and fatalism. Harper knows that the investigation she is undertaking cannot be won – it can only be lost to varying degrees. Her disappointment, unresolved childhood pain, and inability to separate her private life from the criminal investigation are primarily conveyed through her eyes – sad, but also painfully indifferent.

The director employs a voyeuristic strategy, using a camera that follows the protagonist and the action is told from her perspective. He uses gradual, slow camera movements that can be much more terrifying than the standard jump scares in this type of film. Incidentally, these almost don’t exist here, even though it may seem at several points that they will appear. The mere anticipation of evil, which ultimately does not manifest because its presence is a multi-layered, omnipresent mystery, is the sincere essence of human fear. Similar to his debut, The Blackcoat’s Daughter, Perkins is fascinated by darkness, what is obscure, and what remains hidden off-screen. If this film were a poem, its lyrical subject would be evil or the devil. Both words are inflected in the dialogue in all possible ways. The film’s poetry is achieved through visual symbols. Retrospective flashes of childhood, bubbling thick blood, and red snakes – indicating an ever-present lurking threat – return like a mantra. They also signal how much on the edge of her emotions the film’s protagonist is.

Completely opposite to Harper is the titular Longlegs, the enigmatic antagonist portrayed by Nicolas Cage. It was a bold marketing decision not to show the character’s face in promotional materials – only his eerie eyes appeared on one poster. This recalls the case of Se7en by David Fincher and the concealment of Kevin Spacey’s role as the main villain. Cage’s madness, well known to us all, is set in such a sinister context for the first time and makes a huge impression in several intense scenes. The overacting style of the character conceals real intentions and the sense of her nefarious actions, akin to the Joker or Charles Manson. Only in the hands of a confident creator could it fit in this grim arrangement. Fortunately, Osgood Perkins skillfully finds the tonal balance he aims for, executing it to perfection. The director has a separate vision for depicting Longlegs’ perspective. The psychopath’s room, bathed in red light, covered in satanic symbols, and cluttered with ominous props, resembles the aesthetics of Italian giallo films or the demonic spaces from the Insidious series. This world is distinct from the gray and cold monotony of the FBI agents.

A director stylistically close to Osgood Perkins is David Lowery, known for A Ghost Story and The Green Knight. Both have a penchant for blending horror aesthetics with fairy tales. Even if at first glance Longlegs seems different from such an approach, upon analyzing the story’s meanings, it turns out to be a postmodern, skeptical travesty of The Three Little Pigs. The family is questioned here as a safe fortress guarding fundamental values. With Perkins, it appears as a shaky social structure, haunted by constant knocks from strangers, so easily destroyed. Evil, once let into the house, will never leave – the director seems to warn. Just as the Grimm brothers’ fairy tale teaches that family warmth and goodness will overcome any adversity, including the dark wolf, here the conclusions are opposite. The film’s finale is the triumph of wickedness over innocence. Perkins, unlike Lowery, often puts aside his sensitivity and optimistic view, distancing himself more from the dramas experienced by his trapped characters. With a focused and stern hand, he shatters the peace of his characters from within through a meticulously calculated, isolating, cold visual language.

The popularity of the elevated horror trend, with its lofty assumptions, meticulous staging, richness of meanings, and evident striving for “greatness,” means that sometimes it can result in a rambling and unfulfilled parody of the genre. Examples of this include Men or last year’s Beau Is Afraid. After watching Perkins’ latest film, there is confidence that the new wave of horror is still alive and didn’t die with any of the aforementioned missteps. Longlegs leaves the viewer in a state of despondency, but not about the state of the genre – here it offers undeniable appreciation and joy that we still have horror films that can be so deeply experienced. However, let’s give ourselves some time after the screening to consider whether we are indeed dealing with a masterpiece or just (and still) a very good production that impresses here and now. I skeptically believe it won’t change the entire genre and set it on a new course. We won’t often return to this film in our thoughts, and its depth of meaning isn’t as absorbing as its external aesthetics. Nonetheless, if Osgood Perkins didn’t make it to cinephiles’ notes as one of the premier auteurs of arthouse horror with The Blackcoat’s Daughter or Gretel & Hansel, he will now undoubtedly occupy a higher position.