Let me throw some words out to you – Serial Killer. Nic Cage. Spooky car. I know what you’re thinking – this shit probably rules. I thought the same thing which is why I jumped at the chance to see the widely hyped thriller Longlegs on the majesty of the big screen. Big Diet Coke on my hip and smuggled 7-Eleven candy in my cargo shorts pockets I nestled into my seat and smiled at the rhythmic buzz as my movie theater recliner slowly tilted into place. Rumors of Nic Cage’s most petrifying role to date flitted around the internet for weeks ahead of the movie’s release and I am a sucker for some good internet hype. Not to mention I will rarely pass up an opportunity to be the guy at the party who gets to say “oh yea I saw it in theaters” when excited chatter turns to the latest new movie that everyone loves. 

20 minutes into the movie I was patting myself on the back with Raisinet stained hands. A truly sensational and suspenseful beginning kicks off what feels like an instant classic. An innocent little girl in a snow covered lawn in Anytown, USA spots an ominous, drab station wagon in her driveway. A staple of so many horror movies, the prelude to Longlegs did not feel tired or cliche and the collective angst in the theater was palpable – we were off to the races. Just as the bottom half of Cage’s ghostly white face pops on screen prompting the credits to roll, everyone in my 7pm screening feels like they just buckled into a dark and eerie psychologically thrilling roller coaster. Nothing in the next 15 minutes seems to dissuade us from that notion as we’re gifted a fantastic and surprising shootout and the murder of a handsome detective. Sadly this first half hour is easily the highlight of the movie. What seemed like a classic psychological detective cat and mouse affair quickly gives way to a convoluted Exorcist knock off. 

This was no psychological thriller. No gritty detective story. This was some fucked up devil movie with a handful of the most poorly crafted characters to ever grace the silver screen. The protagonist is a mousy and seemingly omniscient FBI agent with a name I don’t care to remember working under a cookie-cutter, gruff African American lieutenant. 

The eponymous Longlegs is a serial killer that has evaded authorities for years! And guess what? Our squinty eyed main character may know him! Strap in because Longlegs is also THE DEVIL. Or maybe he is just part devil? Or a tool of the devil? Who cares? Apparently, he just talks unsuspecting fathers into killing their wives and children. He doesn’t leave any fingerprints but he does leave…spooky notes! And get this – all of his victims were born on the 14th! If this all sounds stupid it’s because it is. This movie loses any modicum of logic or sense before I polish off my second box of Milk Duds and I find myself looking around the half-filled auditorium getting irrationally angry at the boomers who are texting with their phone brightness on 1000. 

A paint by numbers amalgam of case files strewn across the floor and scary barns left me rolling my eyes and reminded me that Hollywood may have just run out of ideas. Add in some creepy doll magic which tries to tie the whole movie together, and I am suddenly trying to remember if I switched my laundry.  

I won’t spoil the ending in case you have the misfortune of catching this on cable or an airplane in the next few years but by the time Cage is done smashing his Sunday school quality prosthetics onto a table in what is supposed to be the climax, you’ll just be happy there is any ending at all. 

1.5 stars. Don’t waste your time.