Sin ✊🏿’s review published on Letterboxd:
“Prayers don't help us. Prayers don't do a goddamn thing.”
Yup, this rewatch confirmed that Longlegs is a new favorite horror flick for me. This is one that I'll obsess over and lay awake at night and think about for a long, long while.
I just can't get over the consistently creepy crawly feels that permeate damn near every frame. I love it. Can't get enough of it. Like I said before, Longlegs is effectively unsettling with unique and unrelenting “something sinister's afoot” vibes that bewitch you and bore deep into your mind.
Everything in my initial review stands. Well, all but one: I actually “get” the ending now and fucks with it - that is, according to my personal understanding of the story, its multilayered messaging, the overall “satanic design,” and my interpretation of it.
Oh, an added bonus of this rewatch was seeing it with my son. He loved it! 🤓
There's one morsel that I can't stop thinking about that I want to touch on in vague, non-spoiler terms. (⚠️ Please do not read the following if you want to avoid a vague, potentially-spoiler reference to a person/plot thing):
💭 Just trying to imagine the psychological toll and burden on “The Accomplice” fucks with me. The abject isolation. The helplessness that evolved into jaded acceptance of indescribable evil. The repressed resentment. Imagine how that specific kind of torment (personal hell) could reorient your entire sense and system of reality in the worst ways imaginable. Fuck.
Longlegs is an unforgettable banger in my book. Hail Satan and great, original indie horror. ▽⸸🤘🏿