Director: Osgood Perkins
Starring: Maika Monroe, Blair Underwood, Alicia Witt, Nicolas Cage
Country of Origin: USA
Running time: 1hr 41min
Most characters fade away immediately after the closing credits, some creep into the dark corners of your mind when you least expect it.
The central figure in Longlegs loitered and rummaged around in my thoughts for a couple of weeks, the image of the comic grotesque appearing intermittently in short, unplanned bursts.
It’s a measure of the effectiveness of the pallid protagonist who only appears for a total of around 10 minutes in Osgood Perkins’ tar black thriller.
The title character’s strategically placed appearances provide alternate moments of inadvertent humour and deliberately unsettling chills.
There’s no point in stating too many plot details, this is a film which should be viewed without knowing too much beforehand.
A few things can definitely be ascertained: it’s some time in the 1990s (there’s a framed picture of President Bill Clinton on the walls) in Oregon and young FBI agent Lee Harker (Maika Monroe) is tasked with solving an inexplicable number of gruesome murders.
The killings span three decades, all involve families with young daughters and a notable lack of evidence apart from coded letters left after every hideous crime.
Its stunningly captured wintry setting also leaves an imprint as the menacing threat of the unknown lingers on every inch of the screen.
The foreboding disquiet of the first two chapters makes us look in the corners and background of scenes for a shadowy figure or pointed subliminal message.
There’s thudding on doors and shapes lurking through windows while the music of 1970s hitmakers T. Rex provides a strangely fitting audio backdrop in many sequences.
A distinct feeling of unease prolongs until a stunning finale which draws together elements of the supernatural and occult.
While there is no dependency on obviously staged shocks – bar one unforgettable split-second scare – it’s the unknowing presence of the title character that supplies most of the suspense and terror.
You never know when he will be revealed, and writer and director Perkins unleashes him spectacularly in perfectly timed moments.
A frightful vision in white the discoloured fruitcake barely features at all yet still manages to dominate the film.
I wasn’t sure whether to burst out laughing or recoil in horror every time Longlegs made an appearance. He comes across as some kind of warped preacher with a penchant for hollering out incomprehensible sermon like songs, while at the same time resembling a psychologically damaged loner from another world.
Either way it’s a horrendous concoction portrayed with unflinching assurance by Nicolas Cage.
It’s a glorious metamorphosis, as Cage delivers one of the finest and definitely oddest character performances of his lengthy career.
There has been a clamour to contrast Longlegs with a notorious big screen killer in a film that featured a menacing central figure that had a sinister predilection for fava beans and a nice Chianti. Not everything needs a comparison, and nothing should detract from the brilliance of Cage as the pale faced crackpot.
While Monroe marvels as the lead with seemingly psychic powers and Alicia Witt is spellbinding as her haunted mother it’s the depraved creation of Perkins that sticks in your head.
It’s both a compliment and a curse to a character that lingers ominously even after the screen turns to black.
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Stephen Kasiewicz 