Longlegs

Longlegs has the ability to make the banal suddenly and delightfully sinister.

Longlegs' unsolved serial killer case is hugely unnerving. And where things land? I’ve never seen anything quite like it. Longlegs also continues to highlight that Maika Monroe is one of the very best horror headliners we have.

Genuinely and properly upsetting.

It’s a true sight to behold, but take care to not look too long. No matter how tightly you try to cling to sanity, one truth remains in “Longlegs”: We all go a little mad sometimes.

A palpable fear runs through Longlegs from the first frame until the last. It’s not the jump-scare tension of a slasher movie but something less tangible. You feel frightened without knowing exact­ly why.

Part of what makes the film so effective is that it doesn’t really depend on secrets or surprises. The writer and director Osgood Perkins summons an atmosphere of dread so intense, it’s practically spoiler-proof.

Longlegs is undoubtedly Perkins' best film to date, one that takes learnings from his previous works. [Full review in Spanish]

'Longlegs' carries a pervasive creepiness that’s not really about the story. ... Rather, it’s about an idea — an idea that there is something that everybody is afraid of.

I had a blast, but I do wonder how much better it could be if Perkins picked a lane [between police thriller and horror]. It all adds up to a more than solid genre flick I didn't love, but can definitely see why so many do.

Perkins’ contract with us seems to be: I’ll give you a hundred minutes of unsettling creepiness, but in return you have to accept one of the dumbest denouements a horror story has ever posited. And one of Nicolas Cage’s most outlandish performances.