Accepting the fact that the majority of movie-goers in England and the U.S. still refuse to give non-English language films a chance (save for the odd Asian martial arts movie; if it’s particularly good), the masterful, and critically acclaimed Swedish horror/drama Let the Right One In, has now been given the once over by Hollywood, and remade into the horror/drama Let Me In.
Let Me In tells the same tale as its Swedish counterpart (which was actually adapted from a novel by John Ajvide Lindqvist), and follows a young lad named Owen (Kodi Smit-McPhee, The Road); who is a complete social misfit, has a less than ideal home-life, and no friends inside or outside of school, until a young girl moves in next door, and slowly begins to take a shine to him.
Despite his odd ways and solitary nature it’s clear that although Owen is obviously a very damaged child, he’s simply longing for some companionship (as he feels abandoned and unwanted by his parents; a point perfectly illustrated by the fact that despite her constant presence, we never see Owen’s mother’s face, and only hear from his now absentee father briefly); meaning that he is desperate to make friends with his new neighbor Abby (Chloe Moretz, Kick-Ass, 500 Days of Summer); the only other 12-year-old that lives in his building.
Abby and Owen seem to be the perfect partnership (even though she tells him when they first meet, quite categorically, that they “can’t be friends”); as while he’s a bit of a recluse, displays borderline psychotic behaviour, and is a the victim of some horrific bullying, she seems just as odd in her own way; she often walks around in the snow in bare feet, doesn’t appear to attend any school, also has a troubled home-life (outwardly visible by the cardboard covered windows in her apartment, and the arguments between her and her father (played by Six Feet Under’s Richard Jenkins); that are heard by Owen through the walls), and longs for some true companionship.
However Abby’s insistence that the pair could never becomes friends wasn’t simply the idle remakes of a stroppy pre-teen, but a deeper warning that shielded the real reason she has no friends, and never seems to go out in the daylight; she’s a vampire who craves blood, and has to shield her identity from everyone she can, most importantly the policeman (Elias Koteas, Defendor) who’s been tasked with investigating the recent string of brutal murders that have begun to occur in the area.
Still, Owen and Abby do begin to grow closer, and while everyone watching knows pretty quickly that Abby is a vampire (not solely because of all the marketing; which completely gave it away) it takes a good while for Owen to realize that anything is that different about his new friend; as he’s so happy to finally have a companion he’s willing to overlook just about any flaw, in the hopes that they can continue to grow closer.
And the film is then a strange sort of friendship/romance picture, following the pair’s relationship as things begin to grow worse for both of them at home; with Owen’s mother becoming increasingly oppressive, and the bullying growing ever more fierce, while the law begins to close in on Abby, and her one source of food begins to fail her; and their strengthening bond continues, until Owen realizes what Abby truly is, and the world inevitably closes in on them.
It’d be easy to think that watching a fairly adult movie about a budding relationship between two twelve-year-olds (Abby insists that she is twelve; and has been for a very long time) could become quickly tiresome, easily childish, and not have much depth, but thankfully Let Me In is none of those things, and thanks to the vampire dynamic, consistently drab and serious tone, and some truly fine acting, it manages to remain thoroughly captivating throughout.
In fact both of the lead actors deliver riveting performances, despite their relative young age, and inexperience; Kodi Smit-McPhee might not deliver an utterly flawless performance, but there’s no denying that he’s both a very strong actor, and fits into the role (of portraying the social misfit) with relative ease, and Chloe Moretz once again delivers an acting masterclass that hooks in any viewer, and ensures she’s headed for a very strong career (conveying all the excitement, reluctant joy, and inner pain, of her character with elegant simplicity); as they have excellent on-screen chemistry, and are never overshadowed by their adult co-stars.
Adults are largely left out of Let Me In; as while Elias Koteas (who’s as subtly strong as we’ve come to expect in his supporting role) is the main grown up we follow, even he isn’t given that much to do, and other than him and Richard Jenkins (who’s also extremely well cast as Abby’s tired and reluctant guardian) it’s other children (particularly the bullies) that get the most prominent screen-time, while even Owen’s mother is never directly shown on camera; a stylistic choice that fits in perfectly with the movie’s macabre tone.
Let Me In is actually a pretty depressing film, and whilst it has a very sombre and melancholy tone throughout, it’s elegantly shot, and remains stunningly beautiful in its own dreary way; with every frame being bathed in a soft blue light, and having all skin-tones, clothes, and everything in its bleak world, appearing washed out and uninviting; which perfectly suits the the movie’s drab mood.
It’s fair to say that Let Me In is far from a feel good movie, and while some younger viewers (who are used to having their vampire movies bathed in oceans of blood, complete with heroic slayers, and a fair bit of sexual tension) may be disappointed it isn’t as action heavy as most major vampire films, and find it a touch boring, there’s no denying that it is a wonderfully made film (to the point it gained the full support and praise of the novel’s author; who also wrote the screenplay for the original Swedish film), contains a touching story, and is both engrossing and memorable; making it a great watch for anyone who likes to care about the characters in a film, and a great way to introduce a solid story to anyone who hasn’t already seen the Swedish version (to which this film sticks very close).
