Alex Wheeler Movie Ops

Horror has many flavors, and writer/director Oz Perkins has a favorite. Most of his movies, from The Blackcoat’s Daughter to I Am the Pretty Thing That Lives in the House, have crept their way to terror through rigid control of mood. Longlegs is no different, which won’t surprise anyone who’s followed his career but will likely catch the average theatergoer by surprise.

The film contains enough moments of traditional horror that a straightforward trailer was strung together. With the addition of a few pull quotes linking it to beloved genre films of years gone by, the marketing team may have done Longlegs a disservice. It’s not fair to sell people an excellent version of one film and deliver another, but this can’t be taken as a slight against the film. Perkins and his team likely had little to do with marketing decisions. For their part, they deliver what they promise. Their film is clear about its intent from the start and operates more as a plod to the inevitable than anything surprising.

From the moment Maika Monroe’s Lee Harker steps out of her car, many will recognize the way she moves. Furtive, alert, small. She’s an FBI agent on a case with her partner, surveying a neighborhood to find a heinous killer. Her partner knocks on doors and follows their script. She wanders the street, observing the small differences in each cookie-cutter home. She ID’s the correct house, of course, which flags her as a particularly intuitive agent and gets her assigned to an even worse case. 

There’s talk that she’s more than intuitive, giving an absurd edge to what has otherwise been a very down to earth introduction. Are we really to believe the FBI puts merit in supernatural abilities? She is given a battery of tests that indicate she can predict things much more often than chance should allow, so in the reality of the film something is going on. Yet no one in the FBI is concerned about why her skills exist. They’re much more concerned with how they can be used to capture Longlegs, a serial killer taking out families and leaving cryptic letters. Her boss, Agent Carter (Blair Underwood) scoffs at any implication that Lee has special skills, but he jumps on the threads she uncovers in the case.

The film, on the other hand, is very concerned about why Lee knows these things. It gives the logistical plot reason, which is perhaps the only unknown of the film and its least supported development. The emotional, metaphorical reason, though, is what can be seen in every moment of Monroe’s meticulous dance with Perkins’ oppressive style. Actress and director are working in concert at the same level Perkins and Kiernan Shipka (who cameos here) did in The Blackcoat’s Daughter, to electric results.

If you recognize what they’re doing, then you won’t be surprised when Lee’s mother asks if she’s keeping up with her prayers. Nor will you be surprised when you see her mother’s house is filled to the brim with detritus, a hoarder’s dream. From that point, the writing should be on the wall for everyone, and its meaning should chill you to your bones.

Longlegs is not a mystery. It’s a mood piece rooted deep in the horrors of homes that never are home. Its killer is not a monster but a man, one you see early and often. Off-kilter, unpredictable, a chaos agent brought to life by, of course, Nicolas Cage. Is he too much? Maybe, but the contrast of his loudness to Monroe’s meekness speaks volumes, even as Cage spouts nonsense.

All of this occurs in Perkin’s trademark stew of isolated frames. He likes to observe his characters archly, take them in one at a time and let them breathe. There’s filmmaking effort here, the deliberately obvious kind. But it’s not to show off. It’s to oppress, give you no reprieve. When this style works, it’s an enveloping experience that’s hard to shake as you leave the theater. 

And it works here. No matter how much you writhe, you can’t get away from his gloomy intent. You are stuck there just like Lee, marching towards an ending that can’t possibly satisfy.

Longlegs is not complex, but it is layered in its singular meaning. Nearly everything folds into the horror that exists just behind its plot mechanics. That focus, combined with brilliant performances and the stew of Perkin’s style, lifts it above what is otherwise a rudimentary plot. If you somehow miss the metaphor, then sure, this will be a hollow, dull experience. But if you see past Longlegs’ surface, it will be a bone-chilling experience.

Release: Available now in theaters
Director: Oz Perkins
Writers: Oz Perkins
Cast: Maika Monroe, Nicolas Cage, Blair Underwood, Alicia Witt, Michelle Choi-Lee, Dakota Daulby