Is This the Best Horror Movie of the Decade?

If you’ve been scrolling through social media, you’ve likely stumbled upon Longlegs, a film that’s been generating buzz for all the wrong reasons. Described as a high-budget student project, this film is a curious beast—like that friend who’s terrible at telling stories but aces the outfit game. You might think it’s a knockout from afar, but up close? Well, let’s just say it’s a mixed bag of ambition and absurdity.

From the outset, Longlegs attempts to channel the charm of classic horror, featuring a lush, retro aesthetic that’s almost Instagram-worthy. You can almost hear the nostalgic sighs of cinephiles as the film plays with aspect ratios and employs a grainy film texture that would make any vintage-loving heart flutter. But here’s the kicker: a stunning visual presentation can’t cover up a narrative that fumbles more than a toddler learning to walk.

As we dive into the film, we’re treated to an immersive first half filled with unsettling imagery and tension—think door slams and fleeting shadows. The director, Osgood, pays homage to past masters with finesse, creating a palpable atmosphere that makes you lean forward in your seat, your popcorn forgotten. But just as the suspense thickens like a fog, the second half hits like a runaway train, veering into chaotic absurdity. Cue Nicolas Cage, who, in this film, dons a heavy prosthetic mask and a wig that looks like it came straight from a Halloween clearance sale. His performance oscillates between over-the-top antics and bizarre moments that threaten to derail any lingering tension.

Some online reviewers have drawn comparisons to The Silence of the Lambs, claiming Longlegs is a revival of that chilling vibe. But let’s be real—this film doesn’t quite hit those haunting notes. It’s more like a haunted house attraction that ends up being more laughable than terrifying. While it borrows elements from classic thrillers, it lacks its own distinct voice, and its reliance on familiar tropes ultimately feels like a hollow echo.

The first act sets high expectations with its beautiful, eerie setups—each scene laced with a sense of dread. However, as the film splits into three chapters, it loses its grip, spiraling into a comedic chaos that feels less like a homage and more like a mockery. The climax is a disappointing letdown; what should be a grand revelation fizzles out into a whirlwind of confusion, leaving viewers scratching their heads rather than gasping in terror.

In what seems to be a desperate bid for viral fame, Longlegs appears engineered for social media snippets. Cage, with his penchant for theatrical flair, seems like a strategic choice—a meme-ready element designed to ensure the film’s momentary blip on the Internet radar. It’s as if the filmmakers anticipated the inevitable GIFs and TikToks that would crop up, letting their film exist as a collection of eye-catching clips rather than a cohesive narrative.

Despite its stylistic aspirations, Longlegs ends up being a beautifully unsettling painting devoid of depth. The visuals may draw you in, but the content leaves much to be desired. The film toys with the idea of horror but ultimately serves up a disjointed experience that feels more like a parody of itself.

So, is Longlegs the most terrifying horror film? Hardly. It’s an entertaining spectacle, sure, but more for the wrong reasons—like watching a reality TV star try their hand at Shakespeare. You can’t help but chuckle at the audacity, even as you wonder if there was once something profound lurking beneath all that glitzy makeup.

If you’re looking for genuine scares, you might want to keep scrolling. But if you’re in the mood for some unintentional comedy and a wild ride through the absurd, Longlegs could be the perfect pick. Just don’t forget your popcorn—or a good laugh.