Let Me In...

Let Me In almost doesn’t even feel like a horror movie. I don’t mean that in a bad way at all, though. It’s just that its traditional horror elements aren’t what’s on show here. They’re the backdrop in front of which a very intimate, very character driven story unfolds.

Just like Romeo and Juliet, which the film references somewhat heavy handedly, Abby’s vampirism is a barrier in the way of her and young Owen’s relationship, what makes the two’s path together star-crossed, as it were.

Abby’s need for blood is not the focus here though, it acts to drive the plot but never overtakes it. Quite refreshing in today’s horror climate.

 Not surprising then, that this is not an original Hollywood screenplay. Let Me In is a remake of the 2008 Swedish film Let the Right One In, which is an adaptation of a Swedish novel published by John Ajvide Lindqvist in 2004.

Its difficult to talk about Let Me In without talking about its European predecessor, but I will try to isolate such comparison to a single section that follows my discussion of the newer film.

So, Let Me In. A very appropriate title, both metaphorically and in terms of one of the film’s recurring motifs.

Twelve-year old Owen—played spectacularly by The Road’s Kodi Smit-McPhee—is a troubled youngster, dealing with a fractured home life and constant, appalling bullying at school.

You really do feel for the boy. Smit-McPhee plays the role with an earnestness and gravity that feels very authentic as he deals with that awkward, prepubescent time we all remember. Probably not so fondly either, I would wager.

Chloë Moretz also delivers an intricate, astounding performance as Abby, Owen’s new neighbour. Arriving barefoot in the snow after sundown one night with her “father” in tow and moving into the apartment next Owen’s, for all appearances Abby is a normal girl. Obviously though, she’s not.

From their first meeting at a play structure in the courtyard in front of their apartment building, the film is at its strongest when the Owen and Abby are sitting on those metal bars out there in the darkness of the night, with snow all around them.

Their interaction is so genuine, so real and intimate, that it almost feels strange to witness it. The two really do play their roles so well it seemed like I was intruding on some kind of private moment shared by two lonely people. I find it very rare for a film relationship to come across as so real, but theirs does. It really is something you have to experience to understand.

As their relationship progresses, it never looses any of that realness, never feels any less genuine, even as it becomes clear that Abby isn’t your average twelve-year old girl.

The film really is aptly titled. It plays doubly on the part of vampire lore that requires them to be invited in to someone’s home and at the same time on the basic human notion of letting someone into your life, of spending time with them, telling them about your problems, of coming to trust and care about them.

Both Abby and Owen insist the other let invite them in, exposing a certain perception of equality between them that Owen seems to maintain even as he learns more about Abby’s condition.

And in this film Abby’s vampirism really is expressed as a condition. It’s not glamorous or sexy and Abby isn’t sadistic or overly cruel. It really is just something that sets her apart from Owen, from everyone, and keeps her from being able to make friends and live as a normal girl.

The film doesn’t hold back on any of the horrificness (yes, I’m coining this word) that Abby must engage in to survive. There’s plenty of blood. And she does have some of your typical clichéd, vampire characteristics: glowing eyes and mottled skin when she is feeding, superstrength and the ability to move jump around like a spider monkey.

This heavy handedness—this dumbing down of her vampireness to make it more accessible to your average North American film-goer—is probably my biggest complaint about it. But I will get into that more later.

The film is shot wonderfully and except for one weak scene using CGI flames, the effects are all top notch. The cinematography is great and the camerawork actually has some real moments of brilliance, most notably for me during one scene in which Owen is hiding under a table and slowly leans back into shadow.

Though the film lacks subtlety in Abby’s vampirism, it is subtle in other ways. Owen’s tumultuous home life is hammered home by a distant mother and fittingly, you never actually see her face throughout the entire film even though she is in it quite a bit. The motif of being let in never feels forced, and though I’ve talked about it a lot here, is a dominant but never overpowering underlying theme.

Owen and Abby don’t descend into whininess or come off as anything but real either. I have no idea how director Matt Reeves of Cloverfield fame managed to coax such astounding performances out of these young actors. They are truly talented.

Reeves himself has done something very difficult here. He’s made a horror film that actually works. He’s also remade a film without cheapening it or changing its primary message. He’s succeeded in making it accessible to a wider audience without lowering it by any means. I wouldn’t be surprised if it receives some nominations come awards season.

So, let’s get into a comparison of Let Me In and its Swedish predecessor Let the Right One In.

  

In a way, Let Me In lacks the subtlety, the finesse that made Let the Right One In so charming.

The vampire aspects of Let the Right One are better than the English version. I see why in this Hollywood version they felt they had to make Abby look inhuman when she is feeding in order to make her monstrousness more relatable to a wide audience, but the fact that they didn’t do this in the Swedish version with Eli (Abby’s character’s name in that film and the novel) was a better choice.

Though it doesn’t take away from the core relationship between Abby and Owen, or her believability as a character, it just really was not necessary. Let the Right One In shows far less of Eli’s vampiric abilities. There’s none of Abby’s spider monkeying around or any of that. This I feel, was also a far better way of going about things.

One of Let the Right One In’s strongest moments I felt, occurred on that play structure in the apartment courtyard. The play structure is much taller in that version and in one scene as Owen looks on, Eli leaps nimbly down from the top in a move that would surely turn a normal person’s ankle or break their leg.

There’s no overt mention of this jarring feat, the audience either picks up on it or they don’t. This scene illustrative of the subtlety found in Let the Right One In and not in the English version.

I prefer the Swedish film’s handling of Eli’s vampirism and ultimately I feel it makes her more menacing while keeping her and Oskar’s (Owen’s name in the Swedish film and novel) relationship more believable.

That’s not too disparage Let Me In, though. I understand why Reeves made the choices he did and they don’t tarnish the film. They just don’t allow certain parts of it to rise to the level achieved in the Swedish version.

Let the Right One suffered from certain pacing and story telling issues that were handled much better in the English version. To those who have seen the Swedish version, the cat lady’s story is much smaller and less central to the film in the American one. And lacking cats altogether, I might add.

I feel the choices in this area in the American version were very intelligent and I was happy to see they had cleaned up some of the issues I had with the Swedish film.

Bottom line, both are smart, emotionally affecting films. They are both good, too. I don’t think either is really better, though I connected more with the characters in the English version. That probably has a lot to do with the fact that I have a language bias though, and that I was far better to pick up on the intonation and delivery of their lines when spoken in English than I was when they were spoken in Swedish and I was reading subtitles.

Both films have interesting takes on vampire lore, including the need to be invited in and what happens if that invitation isn’t given, what happens when a vampire eats something other blood and a few other nice refreshing takes on your traditional vampire mythos. Again, I feel as though these aspects were handles better in the Swedish version, but were strong enough in the American version as well.

The heart of both these films lies in the same place; a snow covered courtyard with two kids sitting on a bare looking metal play structure.

I give this film, 4/5 cold, lifeless exsanguinated stuck thumbs because it has a lot of heart, even if that heart may no longer be beating.

XOXO

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