Longlegs

Nicolas rages and Cages his way through this freaky horror-thriller.

Film Yap is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work please consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

---

I wasn’t able to see any of writer/director Osgood “Oz” Perkins’ films prior to watching his latest “Longlegs” (now in theaters). Perkins, the son of “Psycho” actor Anthony Perkins who began his big screen career as an actor (he played young Norman Bates in “Psycho II” and was Dorky David in “Legally Blonde”), certainly has a reputation that precedes him as a filmmaker. He’s known as a horror auteur who employs a slow burn style to his tales of terror. I’d say this is true of “Longlegs” as well, but I’d also argue that this feels like a well-acted and well-done work of genuine evil. This is some disconcerting and disheartening stuff, but I was never disinterested.

Maika Monroe stars as newbie FBI Agent Lee Harker. Under the guidance of her commanding officer Agent Carter (Blair Underwood) Lee is pursuing the prolific, titular serial killer known simply as Longlegs (Nicolas Cage) across the Pacific Northwest during the mid-1990s.

It might be a bit of a stretch to call Longlegs a serial killer. There have been a series of crimes known as the “Birthday Murders” dating back to the mid-1960s during which fathers perpetrate murder-suicides against themselves, their wives and their children. In each case the father has a daughter whose birthday correlates to their date of death and a coded letter has been left on the scene signed by Longlegs himself. The fathers lack motives and there’s never a sign of forced entry. Longlegs is seemingly more in league with Charles Manson as opposed to Samuel Little.

Lee balances her time between the investigation and communicating with her mother Ruth (Alicia Witt), a former nurse, current hoarder and religious zealot. The case also affords Lee the opportunity to speak with Carrie Anne Camera (Kiernan Shipka), the rare survivor of a Longlegs attack who’s currently … and understandably … institutionalized.

I admire a lot of what Perkins has done with “Longlegs.” He and his collaborators – among them cinematographer Andres Arochi and editors Graham Fortin and Greg Ng – have established an inescapable aura of dread. I often knew what was going to happen before it happened, but I was always still shook whenever the shit hit the fan.

Perkins is strongly supported by a game cast. Monroe’s Lee lends the picture some unexpected humor and is easy to root for. Underwood is likable in what’s essentially the Scott Glenn role from “The Silence of the Lambs.” Witt gets various notes to play and aces ‘em all. Shipka, reuniting with Perkins after “The Blackcoat’s Daughter,” lets her freak flag fly with just one scene of work. Speaking of letting one’s freak flag fly, Cage “mega-acts” his ass off. The dude’s at 11 here and the hair and makeup department (among them Kristin Chaar, Jordan Crawford, Felix Fox, Keith Lau and Harlow MacFarlane) deserve a lot of credit for aiding him in his transformation. His Longlegs will live on in my mind for some time to come – both for good and for ill – and likely more the latter as opposed to the former.

“Longlegs” doesn’t quite hit the heights of the best serial killer movies (among them the aforementioned “The Silence of the Lambs” and “Seven”), but it ain’t terribly far off. Perkins probably comes to this stuff honestly as Norman Bates’ kid. A coupla choice T. Rex needle drops certainly don’t hurt matters either. “Longlegs” is more creepy than scary, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t make like Bill Haley & His Comets upon leaving the theater. I was shook and rattled as I rolled outta there.