Horror fans mark this one on your calendar. Both elegant and chock-full of gore, "Let Me In" is a remake done right. Well, I can't really hold to comparison because I've only watched the first twenty minutes of the Swedish hit, "Let the Right One In" (2008). Unfortunately, it was dubbed in English, (a nightmare in itself) so I turned it off. Anyways, back to the American adaptation, "Let Me In," filmmaker Matt Reeves, fresh off the gimmicky "Cloverfield" (2008), shows a little mastery in direction. Honestly, I didn't really care for the apocalyptic, monster invasion, "Cloverfield." Perhaps if it came out before the whole found-video-shaky-footage rave, it would've caught my attention, but at the time, the concept seemed tiring. "Let Me In" is a unique vampire film about the unlikely friendship between a bullied, 12 year-old boy, Owen (Kodi Smit-McPhee) whose parents are in the middle of a divorce, and a mysterious girl, Abby (Chloe Moretz) that also happens to be a vampire. They meet outside in the snow-covered apartment complex, and the curious boy, always peeping out his bedroom window, is wrapped up in the mystery of his new friend and her older caretaker (Richard Jenkins). The director keeps the perspective towards the boy's point-of-view. When he sits down for dinner with his mother, the camera never cuts to her face. In fact, she's mostly seen out-of-focus in the frame or seen in a distance, which cleverly expresses her absentee presence as a parent. This notion sets-up the framework for the boy's new-found relationship, considering he learns a little life skills from a girl vampire. "Let Me In" holds onto the same mythology of old vampire movies (burning sunlight, thirst for blood, sleeping in coffins), but never goes overboard with the genre conventions. Reeves tries to take this story as seriously as possible. It doesn't poke fun at the genre or execute messy set-pieces of vampire violence. No, I'm afraid, non-stop violence fans, that the gruesomeness isn't senseless; it serves the characters, the narrative, and the gorgeously lit atmosphere. Along with the fresh take on the vampire genre, "Let Me In" is expertly photographed. In the scene outside the apartment complex, where the two friends meet by the snow-covered jungle-gym, the surrounding lights give the images a hard-orange hue. There were also times when the cinematographer doesn't completely block the lighting, letting in an ominous ray of metallic blue across the frame, which serves as a recurrent visual motif. Furthermore, in another fantastically shot scene where the unidentified guardian of the vampire attempts to dispose of a body in a half-frozen creek, the contrast between the snow and the dark night is so heavy that it almost looks as though it was shot in black-and-white. Shooting in snow-covered surroundings adds a crisp aesthetic, which is unlike filming in any other type of weather condition. Now, for the best part of the cinematography—the gruesomeness and blood-dripping gore is ironically a beauty to behold. There is no shock value here; it's just shocking how much blood there is when you suddenly forget you're watching a vampire movie, along with an absorbing tale about childhood friendships, hardships, bullying, and curiosity. Kodi Smit-McPhee is a child actor I'm going to enjoy watching grow up. He portrays a shy, pasty-looking dork, but at the same time, still remains utterly cool. One of my favorite scenes is where he puts on a record for Abby and slyly grooves to the 70s tune, trying to impress her. Come on, who hasn't tried to impress a person they've had a crush on with their favorite brand of music? Well, I have, and so naturally that little humanistic scene stuck with me long after the screening.
Child performances in films of such darkness can be difficult to swallow. However, McPhee gives a remarkable performance of such subtlety and aloofness, I could easily identify with him. Let Me In builds to a conclusion I sensed was coming. It didn't matter though. How the scene was visualized by Matt Reeves was still a shock to me; my heart was literally racing with adrenaline. All I can say is this—sometimes it's what you don't see that brings out the most suspense.
I know I can be a snob and completely disapprove of horror remakes (because American audiences can't read), but I think it's hard to deny that this is still a great horror film with a unique, improbable relationship. "Let Me In" doesn't spell out every detail to the audience. The director provides many nuances, which hints about the mysterious relationship between Abby and her older companion. Is he Abby's father, brother, a childhood friend, or a sadistic individual obsessed with vampires? Who knows exactly? Sometimes, it's the mystery that makes it all the more interesting. Overall, I enjoyed this moody little creeper of a keeper. "Let Me In" anytime, well, probably not during the day.
Child performances in films of such darkness can be difficult to swallow. However, McPhee gives a remarkable performance of such subtlety and aloofness, I could easily identify with him. Let Me In builds to a conclusion I sensed was coming. It didn't matter though. How the scene was visualized by Matt Reeves was still a shock to me; my heart was literally racing with adrenaline. All I can say is this—sometimes it's what you don't see that brings out the most suspense.
I know I can be a snob and completely disapprove of horror remakes (because American audiences can't read), but I think it's hard to deny that this is still a great horror film with a unique, improbable relationship. "Let Me In" doesn't spell out every detail to the audience. The director provides many nuances, which hints about the mysterious relationship between Abby and her older companion. Is he Abby's father, brother, a childhood friend, or a sadistic individual obsessed with vampires? Who knows exactly? Sometimes, it's the mystery that makes it all the more interesting. Overall, I enjoyed this moody little creeper of a keeper. "Let Me In" anytime, well, probably not during the day.