All too often these days, the reception of new releases is hurt by audiences becoming too wrapped up in whether a horror film is the ‘Scariest Film of the Year.’ For some, the film still sending shivers down their spines long after leaving the cinema is The First Omen (2024, Arkasha Stevenson). For others, the one that sits deep in their gut and twists their insides is I Saw the TV Glow (2024, Jane Schoenbrun). The fright factor of a film is far too subjective for any one film to earn the title of ‘Scariest Film of the Year’. So why do audiences care so much about it when engaging with the genre? Could the audience pressure to earn this made-up title hurt filmmakers and fans alike?

The latest horror film to struggle under the pressure of terrorising audiences is Longlegs (2024, Osgood Perkins), starring Maika Monroe, Nicholas Cage, and Alicia Witt. Agent Lee Harker (Maika Monroe) is tasked with investigating several family murders. As unwavering dread unfolds across Harker’s work and into her life, her investigation leads a little too close to home. On a first watch, or for those unfamiliar with director Osgood Perkins, Longlegs may come across as not much more than an artfully captured satanic thriller in the same vein as Silence of the Lambs (1991, Jonathan Demme). Many audiences have criticised the film’s apparent ‘style over substance’ approach and lack of true horror.

However, having watched it twice, my experience was completely different, which, again, shows us this subjective these discourses can be.

Firsly, ‘style over substance’ as film criticism is a cop-out response, especially to a horror film. Style is almost always substance, where we find deeper meaning and the filmmaker’s intentions. In the pure white snow you can find masked evil, and in the creeping shadows, life-long anxiety reveals itself. It is mind boggling to see such a critique casually thrown at Longlegs because Perkins has spoken at length about how the film explores his relationship with this mother, done mostly through the film’s style. Osgood Perkins is the son of the iconic Psycho (1960, Alfred Hitchcock) actor Anthony Perkins and model/actress Berinthia “Berry” Berenson. He has made no effort to hide the internal battle he has had with his parents since both of their deaths. Osgood Perkins’ father, Anthony Perkins, was gay, having only dated men before undergoing conversion therapy and settling down with Berry Berenson, an act that has left the child of this couple struggling with who his parents were and the lies his mother told him to protect his childhood.

With this context in mind, the loud silence that fills the relationships and dialogue within Longlegs is far more painful. This is not to suggest that the director’s context is all that matters when looking at a film, but it does play an important factor in what messages are being communicated and how. Osgood Perkins uses the current trend of elevated horror akin to Midsommar (2019, Ari Aster) or Get Out (2017, Jordan Peele), which have pushed the genre forward by not focusing on tripes or gore. Instead, they create unsettling atmospheres and focus on their themes, something which I believe Longlegs has also contributed towards. Longlegs doesn’t have excessive blood, guts, screams and relentless violence, but it does have dread and a moody tone that crept under my skin. The knot in my chest caused by this viewing experience sat with me long after leaving the cinema and returned for the consequent days. So, if the lack of violence deems Longlegs an unsuccessful addition to the horror canon, we are confining the horror genre to a box. If you want gory horror that shocks the senses, that’s alright, and if you want your horror a little more subdued and with a singing Nicholas Cage, that’s also alright.

Maybe Neon’s marketing strategy is to partly blame the audience’s dissatisfaction with Longlegs’ scariness. Leading up to the release, Neon revealed several cryptic posters of crime scenes and purposefully neglected to reveal Nicholas Cage as the titular character. Hiding a star of such a high calibre could have misled audiences into expecting an utterly different experience while watching the film, hence the onslaught of people accusing Longlegs of not being a horror film. The marketing was an effective business model, however, getting audiences to see a Satanist serial killer flick in the middle of summer isn’t an easy sell, yet my local cinema was packed on opening night. Longlegs’ critical reception has fallen victim to its marketing; while this isn’t the film itself, it does set the bar for what audiences expect from a film. So, when the film marketed as the horror event of the summer isn’t quite what the posters sold them, a backlash is inevitable.

In conclusion, preconceived notions surrounding films have a large impact on how audiences receive and discuss new releases. This proves that films do not exist in a vacuum; instead, their critical reception can be swayed by marketing, expectations and online discourse. Longlegs’ ‘success’ as a horror film is entirely subjective. It cannot be fairly decided upon, so instead of allowing these outside sources to disrupt our experience with films, let’s be present and watch deeply.

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