Daddy Longlegs

Longlegs (2024), directed by Osgood Perkins, is a movie that knows how to market itself. Its cryptic teasers and eerie “true-crime” website are reminiscent of the liminal early internet, a shard of the public consciousness. Most records of these early websites are found in small, forgotten online forums, the only vestiges of these digital artifacts. Longlegs delivers that same uncanny horror: a horror the viewer can’t wrap their mind around. The movie’s premise is similar to that of the acclaimed The Silence of the Lambs (1991): a fledgling FBI agent (in Longlegs’ case, Lee Harker played by Maika Monroe) with talents beyond her years takes on a serial-killer case that consumes her life. However, The Silence of the Lambs, albeit an obvious inspiration, is worlds apart thematically and lacks Longlegs’ satanic edge.

Almost immediately, the film gives a half-introduction of Longlegs, flashing his lion-like visage for only a split second as he approaches a little “birthday girl” with mentions of a special present: a life-size doll. What makes Longlegs’ presence so terrifying is his elusive ubiquity, as the movie’s overarching mystery is his ability to commit familicide without leaving a trace of any external perpetrator. His evil plagues Harker—played terrifically by scream queen Maika Monroe—as we stalk the killer through Perkins’ lingering point-of-view shots. 

However, Longlegs isn’t scary on his own—he’s actually kind of a loser. There’s an uneasiness in realizing how much of a social pariah Longlegs really is. There are certain scenes that would, if filmed less “horror,” be uncomfortably comedic. His interactions with the public paint him as the weird guy outside a corner store parents tell kids to avoid. This aspect of the killer is expertly played by Nicolas Cage, who, like in most of his performances, overblows it in the best way possible. 

The portrayal of Longlegs as a preternatural boogeyman resembles the same boogeyman who haunts childhood bedrooms, the devil who disappears right when the lights get turned on. He’s a horrific, physical manifestation of the film’s themes: overprotective parents and the obsessive preservation of youth (a hint at the film’s decent twist). It’s effective because, like all good “allegorical” horrors, it touts its message by channeling the bleakest consequences. Perkins understands how to magnify this uneasiness, as he’s had his own emotional trauma with parental lies—in an interview with The Big Picture, Perkins recounts living a peculiar childhood reality just like Harker: “…growing up with a famous father [Psycho star Anthony Perkins] who is a closeted gay man. And that fact didn’t fit the narrative of my family…My mom became sort of part of the cover…it’s a strange thing to live in a cover.”

 Longlegs’ androgynous look is inspired by the villain’s veneration of glam rock (with his many posters of rock icons like Lou Reed and T. Rex), a queer-coded aspect to him that parallels Buffalo Bill’s (the villain in The Silence of the Lambs). However, Bill’s transness, along with other harmful transgender representations in horror at the time—such as Psycho (1960) and Sleepaway Camp (1983)—was clumsily depicted as the reason for his moral deviance. Longlegs, on the other hand, is evil because he’s evil; he just happens to be a bit glamorous. 

Longlegs’ love for glam rock is also front and center in the film’s soundtrack, as T. Rex’s “Bang a Gong” both begins and punctuates the film. The upbeat needle drop is the movie’s wink at the audience as if saying, “I’m in on it too.” Haunted dolls, evil nuns, and a satan worshiping Nicolas Cage are comically over the top, so it’s a marvel to watch Perkins deftly balance this camp with good horror. Some shots leave just enough room in the background for audiences to check behind Harker’s shoulder; the vigilant viewer just might find something lurking. Harker only has one interaction with Longlegs, yet her anxiety is a constant presence, thanks to Monroe’s tense performance. Perkins utilizes Monroe’s talent by giving her reactions the same (if not more) screen time as the onscreen gore.

Perkins’ dread-building is an art, but it barely makes up for Longlegs’ biggest weaknesses. Not only is there a glaring plot hole that requires too much suspension of belief, but the movie crosses its fingers in hoping the audience doesn’t notice since it’s completely ignored. The flaw is uncharacteristically lazy, just like the final act exposition dump for the twist. Still, the monologue is chillingly delivered and accompanies a montage of horrific revelations so dramatic it becomes operatic—it’s like being forced to watch a pot boil over after an hour of bubbling, if watching water were scary. 

This past summer’s been phenomenal for horror movies, but it’s no wonder Longlegs stands out—it’s rare that a movie would be just as scary on a laptop screen at 3 a.m. as it would be in theaters. For an indie horror to reach such critical and financial heights, it has to have a truly unique scare. Longlegs finds that X-factor in its villain; his malice is that pure, corny, satan kind, and it’s a delight to witness in all of its Nicolas-Cage-ian glory.