J*A*S*M

A Bavarian faded phantasmagoria, as fascinating as it is deeply irritating. I can't yet decide which way it prevails with me. I was about to write that Cuckoo is the dictionary definition of a smug wank, but then I somehow connected to it on an intuitive level. Anyway, it's very much its own in atmosphere and originality, I appreciate that, and I can only imagine how cool the result would be if Tilman Singer wanted to make genre films that were a little easier to consume, which, given his experience with Luz and Cuckoo, he clearly doesn't want to do.

If someone really talented in directing had taken this on, it could have easily been my new horror darling. It has all the appealing attributes, from the setting of an old castle in the Italian countryside, to the witch theme, to the nicely designed monster in the basement (or rather at the bottom of the well). Unfortunately, Federico Zampaglione shoots with such a "degree" of imagination and creativity that it ends up looking like a thirty-year-old TV movie. But whatever. At least it reminded me of the old Italian trashy shockers and Castle Freak. Sometimes even this kind of B-movie, even if it grossly fails to live up to its potential, is enough for mild satisfaction. The make-up effects and the gore were very good.

There's no denying Longlegs' awesome atmosphere and very impressive individuality, but I actually have more problems with the final film than I feared. Overall, it's kind of off-kilter, so it doesn't have the flow of a traditional horror-thriller film, but it's also literal, more or less predictable, and without any major surprises, so it doesn't even move within the confines of full-on psycho oddity. I found the whole investigative line of inquiry unsatisfying and futile, with Osgood Perkins basically faking a detective procedural with the birth dates and murders, the cryptic letters; it all sounds and looks cool, but what really came out of it and what was the point? I strongly missed those moments here, where the investigator figures something out and the film is able to explain how those findings move closer to the killer. Here, in contrast, the shifts in the investigation just "happen", or the titular Longlegs sends the protagonist a clue... Nicolas Cage is excellent, excellent, until suddenly he stops being excellent (about the time he starts "singing"), then his performance becomes rather distracting. I'm very hesitant to rate it between 3 and 4 stars, I've already clicked a couple of times. I guess the second screening, which won't be burdened by expectations (which were high now), will have to crack it definitively.