Does Longlegs live up to the hype?

By Jamie Tram for the ABC

From Dune's popcorn buckets to Argylle's fake author, there's been no shortage of marketing stunts at the movies this year. Few have been as arresting as the months-long viral campaign behind Longlegs, which has teased itself through Zodiac-style ciphers, cryptic bursts of violent imagery, and the promise of Nicolas Cage as an occult serial killer.

Glimpses of Cage himself have been all but forbidden; instead, a recent promo revels in the sound of lead actor Maika Monroe's (Watcher) accelerating heartbeat upon seeing her co-star in make-up for the first time.

Considering that the film recouped more than twice its budget in its opening weekend overseas, it's difficult to argue that the advertising offensive hasn't been a roaring success - even as the movie itself never quite reaches the delirium of its own physiological hype.

A decade on from her It Follows breakout, Maika Monroe re-affirms her indie scream-queen status as FBI agent Lee Harker (surely a relative of India Stoker?), the promising upstart consigned to an investigation of murder-suicides that have rippled across the American Northwest for 30 years.

All cases share the same sickening pattern: a father spurred to kill his family, then himself, with no signs of forced entry into the house.

But the appearance of coded letters at the scene of each crime, signed by the titular villain, suggest that a malevolent presence may somehow be to blame.

Similarities to the work of author Thomas Harris (Red Dragon) are consciously evoked and often twisted into something unexpected. As a fresh-faced recruit cursed with supernatural instincts - the FBI apparently does standardised testing for clairvoyants - Harker reads as a mix between Silence of the Lamb's Clarice Sterling and Hannibal's Will Graham on paper, but plays like a socially maladjusted recluse.

Monroe turns in a memorably nervy performance, embodying a brittle psychology that's on the verge of splintering. It's refreshing to see a female protagonist who's not so much unlikeable as she is cripplingly awkward.

As Harker sifts through evidence and pieces together patterns, similarities between her and the child victims emerge; the case constricts into something intensely personal. It doesn't take long before a personalised letter from Longlegs lands on her desk, beckoning her into the abyss.

The procedural elements are disappointingly brief, though pleasingly tactile; if nothing else, the film's 1993 setting is a worthy excuse to indulge in the analogue interfaces of tapes, projectors, cameras and notepads.

Visually, Longlegs is one of the most striking horror movies in years.

Oz Perkins' style of sparse, slow-burn horror has always been reliant on severe compositions, often held for unbearably tense stretches of time. Shadows, windows and doorways gradually reveal unspeakable terrors, priming audiences to restlessly scan each frame.

His latest film is by far his most stylised. Like last year's Alan Wake sequel, Longlegs transports the grungy aesthetics of 90s serial killer thrillers (by the likes of David Fincher and Jonathan Demme) into expressive, almost otherworldly imagery.

The film is drenched in warm hues, as if trapped in amber. Cinematographer Andres Arochi executes an eerie symmetry, with architecture often arranged like a vortex around Agent Harker. Wisps of shadowy figures can be briefly glimpsed at unexpected moments, recalling the more contemporary showmanship of James Wan.

So, what of Longlegs himself? If there's a place where the film's marketing bluster feels overblown, it's Nicolas Cage's hysterical take as a serial killer well past his prime.

Cage's respect for genre continues to shine through - it's nothing if not a committed performance - but his theatrics feel untethered from a thinly written role.

With long, scraggly hair, bleached skin, and bloated prosthetics, Longlegs equally evokes Charles Manson and Marilyn Manson - but it's Cage's fae, purring voice that truly cements this disciple of Satan into the thorny legacy of gender transgressions in the horror genre.

In the film's narrative, Longlegs is a relic of glam rock glory; on screen, Cage is serving unadulterated hag.

In interviews, the actor has cited his own mother as a key influence on his performance.

While it may not be an entirely convincing act, Cage's performance, as well as the film's overtures to mummy issues, at least cohere into a compelling dive into the director's own psychology.

Perkins has been consistently open about how his films have grappled with his own lineage. His father, Anthony Perkins, became a horror icon through playing the role of Norman Bates, the serial killer of Psycho with a proclivity for dressing up as his dead mother. The elder Perkins was also a closeted gay man whose sexuality was hidden from his children.

Osgood himself defines the movie by its central question: "Is it okay for a parent to lie to a child?"

Unsurprisingly, the true evil of Longlegs is coming from inside the house.

-This story was first published by ABC