echo Disclaimer: The content in this article has spoilers for the movie “Longlegs” and the writers’ personal opinions.
Since its release, Longlegs has garnered mixed reviews from a variety of audiences. Some say it was confusing, many claim it was not scary, and some regard it as the movie of the year. Between two writers with differing fear tolerances, how does the controversial film fair?
Plot summary
The story of Long Legs opens with Harker being tasked to explore a series of unresolved cases, all connected to a murderer who has remained active for several decades. Despite the significant time elapsed between the incidents, the killer’s meticulous techniques and distinctive signature remain unsettlingly uniform, indicating that he has neither aged nor evolved over the years. This peculiar trend raises questions regarding the true essence of the killer. As Harker investigates, she begins to comprehend that she is confronting something far beyond a mere human offender.
As Harker immerses herself in the investigation, she stumbles upon unsettling evidence that suggests a supernatural link. The perpetrator, whom she refers to as “Longlegs,” seems to possess abilities that transcend human limitations, operating under a sinister force or an ancient curse that bestows upon him a form of immortality—or at the very least, a shield from the passage of time. The deeper she probes, the more Harker finds herself questioning her own mental stability, plagued by visions and disturbing dreams, as she senses a malevolent presence encroaching upon her.
Throughout the film, Harker’s quest evolves into a psychological struggle of cat and mouse. Longlegs prove to be not only physically elusive but also capable of infiltrating Harker’s life in increasingly unsettling manners. She discovers that the killer harbours an unsettling obsession with her, manipulating her through nightmares and ominous messages, prompting her to wonder whether she is genuinely pursuing him or if she is being lured into a meticulously crafted trap.
The tension intensifies as Harker confronts her own fears, both personal and supernatural, unravelling past traumas that appear to be intricately connected to the killer’s strange history. As the investigation nears its conclusion, the supernatural aspects of the narrative become irrefutable, culminating in a climactic confrontation between Harker and “Longlegs.” In this final encounter, it is revealed that the killer’s abilities are linked to an ancient and malevolent force that thrives on fear and death, rendering him more than just a man—he is a conduit for something profoundly evil.
First Writers’ Review and Fear Rating
As someone who doesn’t typically indulge in horror flicks, I went into this movie with a mix of excitement and dread. I rarely watch horror films, and when I do, I’m usually the person hiding behind my hands or clenching the armrest in terror. But this one? Surprisingly, it didn’t even make me flinch. I watched it with my sister one lazy afternoon, and we were both unfazed from start to finish. In fact, halfway through, my sister actually dozed off and told me to wake her up when something “interesting” finally happened. That moment never came.
Now, I have to be honest here—my sister and I are not exactly seasoned horror movie veterans. We’re the kind of people who avoid the genre because we just can’t handle the stress. So, you can imagine that we were bracing ourselves for the worst before hitting play. Yet, an hour and forty minutes later, we were sitting there, staring at each other in disbelief, wondering how a horror movie could be so… well, *boring*.
Let me break it down for you: this movie felt more like a murder mystery than a true horror flick. The plot revolves around this mysterious figure known as “Long Legs,” and we’re fed little bits of information about him throughout. Our protagonist, Lee Harker, is a sharp detective who has a knack for piecing together clues like it’s second nature. And that’s pretty much the entire movie—a slow unravelling of a case. It’s divided into three parts, each one showing Lee getting closer and closer to cracking the mystery.
Sounds promising, right? Well, not really. My sister and I quickly realised that the “horror” part of this movie was nothing more than a few cheap jump scares, some creepy satanic stuff, and suspenseful music that tried (and failed) to make us care. It’s like the movie wanted to be scary, but just didn’t have the guts to go all the way. At first, it caught our attention, but the excitement quickly fizzled out, which is why my sister fell asleep before we even hit the climax.
Okay, I’ll admit, there was one moment that got me—the plot twist. It wasn’t a complete shocker, but I’ll give the movie credit where it’s due: I didn’t see it coming in that way. The twist was definitely the highlight, and it was the only part that felt like things were actually starting to heat up. But one twist wasn’t enough to save this film. For the most part, it relied too much on dramatic silences and eerie music to build tension and not enough on actual scares or a gripping story.
If you’re thinking of spending an hour and forty minutes of your life watching Long Legs, my advice is: don’t. Save yourself the time and just scroll through TikTok or Instagram instead. Honestly, you’ll get more entertainment out of that. In hindsight, I probably should have known what I was in for when I saw Nicolas Cage’s name in the credits. I’m giving this one a solid 4/10—definitely not worth the hype, and certainly not worth losing sleep over (unless you’re my sister, who had a great nap).
Second Writers’ Review and Fear Rating
My fear tolerance:
For someone who is easily scared, I surprisingly have a strange enjoyment of consuming horror content. It’s like a guilty pleasure I can’t fully indulge in because, honestly, I value my ability to sleep soundly at night. But when I do decide to give in to the thrill, it’s always a wild ride, and this movie was no exception.
Within the first five minutes, I had already screamed twice—both times at Nicolas Cage’s face, which, to be fair, was more intense than the actual scares. By the end, I had racked up a total of seven screams. So, yeah, this movie definitely delivered on the jump scares for someone like me who’s easy to frighten. Even though it didn’t leave me sleepless, it did keep me on edge just enough to remember why I tend to stay away from horror in the first place!
Source: Zhi Lin
Visual horror: 6/10
Unlike most horror films that lean heavily into gore and body horror, Longlegs takes a different route. There are definitely some standout moments of visual horror, but overall, the film is more about psychological tension (which I’ll dive into in a bit). Now, I’ll admit, I don’t have the strongest stomach for gore, so I found myself half-hiding my eyes during certain scenes. And while the film doesn’t overdo it on the blood and guts, the moments it does showcase are pretty unsettling. Notable scenes of gore include the victims of Longlegs—grisly crime scenes that linger on-screen, like a particularly disturbing corpse that had been left to decompose for a month. It’s not pretty.
That said, where the movie truly shines is in its visual horror. The way scenes are framed, with long, drawn-out shots, forces you to sit with the dread. The camera makes you confront every detail in a scene, soaking in an atmosphere of creeping existential fear as you wait—sometimes in vain—for a jump scare. This tension just builds and builds, making you uneasy long before anything actually happens. It’s clever, and it’s the kind of horror that sticks with you.
One of the key visual elements in the movie is the use of the colour red. It’s subtle but effective, adding a layer of meaning and dread to certain moments. Red becomes a part of Agent Lee’s hallucinations, slithering like writhing red snakes, and it’s used to punctuate some of the most harrowing scenes. Even though the overall colour grading of the film is dark and muted, whenever red enters the frame, it’s bold and saturated, drawing your eye. The basement where Longlegs hides at is bathed in red, reinforcing the connection between this ominous colour and the killer.
Speaking of Longlegs, he isn’t your typical slasher villain. His face isn’t necessarily scary in a conventional way, but there’s something deeply unsettling about him. His features are exaggerated, with a grotesquely bulbous face and a deathly pale complexion, almost like a wax figure that’s been caked with too much powder. The contrast between his unnaturally pale skin and the blood-red scenes is stark, especially toward the end when things get bloody. Without giving too much away, when Longlegs finally meets his end, the dark crimson blood splattering everywhere feels like it’s staining a blank canvas—his face is expressionless, but the red tells the story.
Overall, while Longlegs doesn’t drown you in gore, it uses visual horror in a way that lingers, leaving you unsettled even after the credits roll. The psychological buildup combined with the film’s eerie colour scheme makes for a tense, uneasy watch—one that doesn’t need excessive gore to make you squirm.
Jumpscares are a staple in horror films, and while they can sometimes feel like cheap thrills—especially in campy movies that throw them in just to make you jump—they can also be done with precision. In Oz Perkins’ Longlegs, the jumpscares aren’t just scattered mindlessly throughout the film; they’re carefully timed, supported by eerie sound effects and a haunting musical score. What’s interesting about Longlegs is that it frontloads the film with more jumpscares, starting strong with the big reveal of Longlegs himself and, later, his unsettling face. Right from the opening credits, there’s this sense of creeping dread, reinforced by the recurring snake imagery slithering across the screen.
One moment that stands out for me is when Agent Lee and Agent Harker discover a doll meant to represent Carine-Anne. The way the scene is framed made me brace myself for a shock—I was fully expecting to see a body when they opened the trap door. And let me tell you, I let out an audible yelp when it swung open, even though there wasn’t a body inside. But the real scare came seconds later when the doll’s eyes suddenly snapped open, catching me completely off guard. It’s these kinds of moments where the movie shines, using suspense and timing to its full advantage.
Then, toward the end, one of the film’s biggest scares arrives when Agent Lee finds her old childhood photos inside a box, only to spot images of Longlegs lurking among them. It’s a quiet but deeply unsettling reveal that sends chills down your spine, made even more intense because the movie doesn’t rely on constant jump scares to keep you on edge. Instead, the film lets them simmer, allowing the suspense to build over time with lingering, drawn-out shots. So, when the scares finally come, they hit much harder.
By spacing out the jumpscares and letting the tension build, Longlegs creates a sense of unease that lasts far beyond the moment. Each scare is impactful, sticking with you and making you rethink those quiet, still moments.
Psychological horror: 8/10
Longlegs sets itself apart from typical horror films that rely on shock value and cheap jump scares. As mentioned earlier, the movie doesn’t just throw scares at you for the sake of it—it crafts its horror with care, using a wide lens to capture expansive, unsettling landscapes. The shots linger for just a bit too long, creating this simmering tension that feels like it’s pulling you deeper into the atmosphere. The backing track is minimal, almost a low hum that never really lets you feel at ease.
What’s fascinating about Longlegs is how it toys with your mind. Much like how we brace ourselves for thunder after seeing lightning, the film plays with the psychological process of anticipation. You know something is coming—whether it’s a scare, a loud noise, or a moment of horror—but the movie stretches the suspense, making you wait. It’s that mental preparation for the shock that keeps you on edge. The buildup to each potential scare is almost worse than the scare itself because the film doesn’t always deliver when you expect it to, keeping you in a constant state of unease.
Instead of relying on constant jump scares, Longlegs thrives on atmospheric horror. The movie plays with your mental state, constantly hinting at something just out of view, lurking in the shadows. The tension is thick and unnerving, making you feel like you’re always waiting for the other shoe to drop. By using lingering shots and stretching out the suspense, Longlegs creates a sense of dread that doesn’t rely on traditional horror tactics but instead builds on a deeper psychological level.
Source: Zhi Lin watching Longlegs, 2024
Humans have always feared what we cannot see. It’s why ghost stories remain popular and why children (and even adults) are still afraid of the dark. It’s that creeping, gut-wrenching fear of the unknown, of not knowing what’s waiting for us in the shadows. Longlegs taps into this primal fear, especially in moments like the barn scene. The low light forces you to squint, to search the darkness for something lurking, even if you aren’t sure it’s there. It’s a slow, torturous game of hide and seek, with your imagination doing most of the heavy lifting.
When we finally get a glimpse of the “man downstairs” in the movie, he’s more of a shadow—a figure shrouded in darkness with a chilling, penetrating gaze. And that’s where the true fear comes from. It’s not his physical form, but the way he seems to watch—to peer into your soul, hidden by the shadows. Across different media, the devil has been portrayed in countless ways, from grotesque and monstrous to animal-like and bestial. But the most terrifying version? The one the human mind can’t fully comprehend, the one that makes us question reality. This version, shielded in darkness, taps into a fear that runs deep.
Now, if you have a fear of dolls, this movie is not going to help you sleep any better. The blank-eyed dolls in Longlegs are more than just creepy props—they carry a sinister energy that makes your skin crawl. The film uses these dolls as a central plot point, and it does so effectively. Before they are even revealed, there’s this unsettling build-up as the camera lingers on the devil’s eyes, glaring from within them. The dolls, modelled after 9-year-old girls, are eerily lifelike yet disturbingly hollow. Their resemblance to their real-life counterparts is uncanny, and by the film’s end, when you’re forced to look at the dolls and their human victims side by side; there’s this sinking feeling of dread. You know what’s coming, but you’re powerless to stop it.
It’s in these moments—when the line between reality and horror blurs—that Longlegs hits hardest. The fear of the unknown, the blank, soulless stares, the almost human-like dolls. All of it builds toward that final, inevitable confrontation, forcing you to face what you fear most. The movie doesn’t just play on common phobias; it amplifies them, leaving you with a lingering sense of unease that follows you long after the credits roll.
Foreshadowing is one of the key elements that can elevate good writing into something unforgettable. A plot twist on its own can be thrilling, but when it’s supported by subtle clues and groundwork laid throughout the story, it becomes so much more satisfying. Longlegs does this well, scattering hints and signs throughout the film, and leaving breadcrumbs for the audience to follow. One standout example is during the interrogation scene when Agent Browning tells Agent Lee, “Longlegs is right underneath your feet.” It’s a simple statement, but it carries weight—both in its immediate context and in the larger narrative. Little does Agent Lee know, Longlegs has been hiding in her own basement, literally living right under her nose. The repeated phrases like “Hail the man downstairs” or “Mr. Downstairs” take on a chilling new meaning as the film progresses, and those seemingly throwaway lines start to hit much harder.
Maika Monroe’s portrayal of Agent Lee is a masterclass in restrained emotion. While the film doesn’t indulge in loud, dramatic outbursts, Monroe’s subtle expressions carry the weight of her character’s growing dread. In the interrogation scene, as the pieces of the puzzle start to click together, you can see her internal struggle play out in the tiniest flickers of her face. These microexpressions are key to understanding Agent Lee’s emotional state—her fear, her frustration, and her sense of responsibility. When Longlegs references her by her full name, you see a momentary break in her composed exterior, a split second where it’s clear that he’s gotten under her skin.
As viewers, we can immediately connect with her fear and the growing sense of doom. The moment she realises that she might be too late to save Agent Harker and his family, the dread is palpable. And that sense of being “too late” carries through to the very end of the film. Just when you think she’s about to destroy the final doll—the one that could potentially put an end to Longlegs—her gun clicks, empty, leaving her powerless. The movie ends on this note of unresolved tension, raising the question: Will Agent Lee survive? Or has Longlegs finally completed his horrific mission?
The ambiguity of the ending adds to the film’s mystery, leaving the audience with that gnawing sense of unfinished business. It’s a perfect culmination of the carefully built tension, the foreshadowing, and the emotional weight of Agent Lee’s journey. Whether or not she makes it out alive, the film succeeds in keeping you hooked, wondering about the fate of its characters long after the credits roll.
Overall Dread: 9/10
As someone who doesn’t typically engage with horror or thriller movies, I found myself filled with a sense of dread going into Longlegs. That feeling of tension stuck with me throughout the film, and I think the overall production really amplified those emotions. From the lingering shots to the unsettling score, every element worked together to heighten the suspense.
However, if you’re a seasoned horror fan, you might have a different experience. Your threshold for dread could be a lot higher, and while Longlegs played on my own fears effectively, it may feel less intense for someone more familiar with the genre.
Sleep Quality: 9/10
As I mentioned before, my fear tolerance isn’t high, which is why I usually steer clear of horror. I worry it’ll mess with my sleep quality. I did, however, watch “The Haunting of Bly Manor,” which I found to be beautifully crafted and genuinely good. Yet, I was terrified for weeks afterwards, mainly because of the haunting figure of the Lady of the Lake.
But here’s the kicker: once the movie ended, I was hit with the anticlimactic ending, which pulled me right out of my fear-fuelled haze. It was almost like a reset button. I realised the movie wasn’t as terrifying as I had built it up to be in my mind. Surprisingly, I managed to sleep just fine that night! It’s funny how expectations can warp your experience, but in this case, it was a relief.
Overall Fear Rating: 6/10
After watching the entire film, I’d rate its fear factor a 6 out of 10 from an objective perspective—pretty solid, but not over the top. However, from my own biased experience, I’d bump that rating up to a 10. I found my heart racing even while searching for images to include in my articles!
If you have friends who are on the fence about horror or are fearful of scary movies, Longlegs might not be a bad place to start. It has enough suspense to keep you engaged without overwhelming you, making it a great introduction to the genre.
In Conclusion…
You do you! Longlegs presents a unique take on the horror genre, blending elements of psychological suspense with moments that can still catch you off guard. While it may not be the most terrifying film for seasoned horror fans, its atmospheric tension and intriguing storyline make it a compelling watch, especially for those who aren’t typically drawn to horror. Whether you’re a cautious viewer like me or a horror aficionado, this film manages to deliver an engaging experience that lingers in your mind long after the credits roll. So, if you’re looking for a movie that balances thrills with a touch of mystery, give Longlegs a shot (or don’t)—you might just find yourself pleasantly surprised (or relieved that you didn’t)!
Written by: Zhi Lin & Chung Wei
Edited by: Tisyha
