Diego’s review published on Letterboxd:
Looking back at the masterful marketing campaign that captured our minds these past few months, it was obvious that Longlegs wouldn't live up to everyone's expectations. The audience to whom the mystery was sold was too large for the film to convince each person, and the comparisons with Se7en and Silence of the Lambs weren't fair, if not stuck at surface level. In fact, Longlegs seems more influenced—stylistically and narratively—by the works of Na Hong-Jin and Kiyoshi Kurosawa than by its national counterparts; leaning more on the abstract and the sensory than on the raw and the straightforward.
It's both one of its best cards and one of its trickiest to play; from the visuals and cinematography to the general worldbuilding, it expands some of its big brothers' ideas to many interesting territories, but also struggles to bring fresh and surprising dramaturgy to elevate them any further. One of the main reasons behind this is that Longlegs favors imagery and themes over plot and character development, which is not necessarily a bad thing. But here, Perkins' singular directing contrasts a bit awkwardly with the more "traditional" story beats (at least, when taken in the context of the horror niche it draws inspiration from).
It'd probably have benefited from non-linear storytelling and experimental directions that dive deeper into the notions and subjects it tackles, while showing more than telling for a more organic progression (there's unfortunately some heavy-handed exposition in the final act that could've been avoided). Still, does it make it mediocre? Absolutely not. Because despite the plot's lack of surprises, the film's story remains fucked up in the best way possible, with some truly nightmarish narrative threads, an engrossing lore built inside of it, and enough subtle details to encourage multiple viewings and discussions.
Plus, Longlegs is simply stellar—just as it is beautiful and vicious—when it comes to delivering its tale through the other tools and means that the medium offers. There's an indescriptible existential dread lingering in each shot of the film; whether it's the unusually large camera angles, claustrophobic liminal spaces, subliminal foreshadow-y framing, nostalgic image format or the dissonant soundscapes, every element—visuals and sounds alike—creates a feeling of uncanny valley that is both suffocating and gripping.
Even when Nicolas Cage's Longslegs isn't stealing the screen with his excentric performance and wicked character, the evil he represents and symbolizes feels omnipresent, and weighs down on the main characters and world, setting an uncomfortable tension that efficiently builds up the more direct—if not violent—set-pieces. It's the kind of horror that lingers in your mind with its patterns and suggestions, connecting a broad mystery to more intimate themes (stolen childhood, domestic violence, social isolation, the unknown and inexplicable, alienation, destiny and fatalism...). One that we've found more on the Internet lately than in theaters.
Again, the direction Longlegs takes with the genre and its tropes won't appeal to everyone, neither will its execution, but if you find yourself in its line of sight, chances are that it'll manage to connect deeply with you and won't leave you anytime soon. Just like a good wine, it'll probably even get better with time; the hype will fade out, people will be more aware of the film's true nature, and its horrific imagery, vibes and story will have had more space to fully propagate into our nightmares.
