Film of the Week: Daddy Longlegs

The career of the Safdie brothers, the auteur duo behind Good Time and Uncut Gems, is often focused on getting their audience to root for characters that are largely undeserving of sympathy. From sociopathic criminals to degenerate gamblers, the brothers (and the very talented actors portraying these parts) manage to make their antiheroes often feel like real, living people, enabling them to walk a tightrope when it comes to capturing the audience's attention and empathy.

Daddy Longlegs, the first film in which the duo worked together as directors, is no different. Even with lower stakes, a slice-of-life depiction of a single dad enjoying his two weeks of custody with his kids rather than the nerve-wracking crime thrillers that make up the Safdies later work, the film bears much of their trademark tactics for building tension, from the grainy, shaky camerawork to the often overwhelming (complimentary) sound design employed throughout it's chaotic conversations. It gives Daddy Longlegs the energy of the audience stumbling upon a particularly upsetting home movie, one where the happy memories are instead a series of agonizingly poor decisions that play out like a car crash in slow motion. 

This is aided by the excellent performance of Ronald Bronstein, better known as the duo's cinematographer, as Lenny. Lenny is twitchy, ill-tempered, and increasingly shortsighted, struggling to find some level of meaning for himself outside of his sons, only to repeatedly realize he has little else. Even at his nastiest and most bumbling, Lenny never feels like a caricature, and it makes his screw-ups often agonizing to witness.

In a particularly standout sequence, Lenny drugs his sons to ensure they sleep through his shift as a projectionist, only to realize he wildly overdosed them, effectively putting them into a days-long sleep. His reaction? To halfheartedly check in on them while he dicks around in the city, too self-centered to directly face the consequences of his actions but not sociopathic enough to completely ignore them. Bronstein plays Lenny as a man on the cusp of self-realization, but unable to go through with it, leaving someone who lashes out at the world to make up for it. From his awkward, flailing lies to everyone around him to his treatment of his on-off girlfriend Leni (Elenore Hendricks), much of Lenny's arc is him realizing his mistakes mere moments after making them. It's frustratingly relatable, and it makes Lenny's actions in the film's final moments feel like a natural conclusion to his selfish nature rather than a cartoonish turn that a lesser story could've turned it into.

And good god, the ending. In a twist clearly inspired by the works of Abel Ferrera, the duo's self-admitted inspiration to the point that he has a particularly "fun" cameo as a foul-mouthed scalper turned armed robber, Lenny chooses to simply take the boys for himself, abruptly packing his things and taking them to parts unknown, a kidnapping committed out of a selfish desire for happiness. Rather than pull the punch, having Lenny's plan thwarted or some horrible karmic fate befall him, the film instead ends on an uncertain note, a static shot of a tram pulling away as Lenny and his sons seemingly get away, their ultimate fates uncertain. It's a fitting end for a work that treats its audience as observers. Our glimpse into Lenny's life is over, and we can only watch and hope for the best as he leaves us behind.