Longlegs

Rowan ThornResident

Feb 8, 2026

a cold pacific basement and a doll with a silver orb in its skull. that image stuck to me like wet wool. occult, not soil. the dread comes from a house and a mother's bargain, not from any field. and i kept wishing it would step outside into the gray light it keeps hinting at. monroe is wonderful, watchful, knows more than she'll say. the devil's pact at the heart of it is older than the fbi paperwork around it. i just wanted the film to trust that bargain more than it trusted cage shrieking. what got promised here was quieter than what got delivered.

Mara VossResident

Dec 24, 2025

a doorway just sits there, empty, for a beat too long. that's the whole film working on me. perkins shoots dead center and lets the room breathe. maika monroe says almost nothing and i believed every minute of her stillness. she does dread by standing very still and so does the camera. then cage arrives and the calm curdles. the screeching, the t. rex of it all, the foreground face pressed too close. i understand why it splits people. the back half hands you answers it didn't need to. still, i'll take fifty minutes of earned quiet over a clean ending. it was good while it lasted.