The latter half of 2024 has been fantastic for horror films, including one film that I would argue has immediately entered all-time great status. Alien: Romulus, Terrifier 3, and The Substance is easily the strongest run in the genre for this decade thus far, in my opinion, and I don't think that it's even particularly close. Even if the year were to end today, I don't think any group of three films from any of the preceeding years in the twenties can truly surpass that.

There's one more film from the last couple of months that I had been eager to see, though-- and from what I had heard there was a very real chance that it could even take over the position occupied by one of the aforementioned films as one of the best of the year. Osgood Perkins' Longlegs only lasted a couple of weeks in theaters near me, though, and I had barely even heard of the film before that window had closed. But luckily enough, there was a limited re-release for Halloween-- and I wasn't going to miss my chance again.

From what I've seen, the film seems to be very polarizing (which definitely makes sense to me)-- but personally, I definitely fall on the side that thinks it's one of the more brilliant horror films of the decade thus far. While there are certainly a couple of things I might have changed, as a whole there really wasn't too much for me to complain about. If there was ever going to be a serial killer film made in the modern era that was truly tailored to my personal tastes, this is about as close as I could ever reasonably expect to find-- and I loved almost every second of it.

Most people that I've seen talk about the film tend to compare it to The Silence of the Lambs, and there's definitely a good reason for that. It's very clear that Demme's film was a massive inspiration on nearly every possible level during the production of this film, from the story structure and tone to the production design and most decisions made by the actors. It's played as more of a straightforward horror film, which does help to set it apart somewhat (which it desperately needed)-- but at the end of the day, I don't think it would be inaccurate to say that Nicolas Cage is effectively just a campier, more extreme Buffalo Bill, or that Maika Monroe is a more anxious, socially-awkward Jodie Foster. Those comparisons do set an absurd standard that the film can't reasonably be expected to match, but I will say that both of the leads do a much better job at approaching that territory than anyone else in the genre has in several decades.

I actually think Kiyoshi Kurosawa's Cure is an even more apt comparison to make, though, and I'm surprised that I haven't seen more people do so yet (although it's certainly possible that I've just missed it, since I've done everything I possibly could to avoid spoilers-- and I'm amazed at just how successful I actually was). The plot itself feels very derivative of Kurosawa's film (which isn't a bad thing, to be clear), and the unsettling feeling I had during my entire viewing definitely brought back clear memories of my first experience watching Cure. I think it's possible that this might have taken a little too much inspiration from the film at times (and learned the wrong lessons in the process), but I don't think it does a disservice to the concept in the same way a lot of more inferior copycats might.

Which brings me to the only major complaint I do have about the film-- the final act. It's incredibly obvious to me that the method of killing found here was torn straight out of films like Cure or The Wailing, but there was one critical error made while that was happening. The whole reason those films work so well is because they understand that somethings work better when they aren't completely explained, and taking away all of the mystery associated with the more explicitly supernatural elements in a film that's otherwise rooted in a plausible reality isn't always the right decision to make. I think this film would have worked better if it left more of those aspects open for interpretation, rather than what we did get.

I don't really know exactly how much that does bother me, though, and I doubt that I will until I see Longlegs for a second time. For right now, the film's probably just inside my top three films of the genre for the year-- and depending on how I feel as I continue to think about it, it could either fall outside of that range or rise into a strong second over time. I don't think it could ever plummet too far, though, since the rest of the film-- which is arguably the single-most frightening experience I've ever had in the realm of serial killer films-- is still easily strong enough to compensate for any missteps at the tail end of the runtime. I'm definitely eagerly anticipating my next watch, and I'm sure I'll have even more to say then.