By Cloverfield director Matt Reeves moves his focus from big monsters to little ones in the adolescent vampire romance, Let Me In. The film is an adaptation of the highly lauded Swedish film Let the Right One In directed by Tomas Alfredson and scripted by John Ajvide Lindqvist. Lindqvist joins Reeves as co-writer for the North American remake.
Let Me In begins ominously with bass-heavy thuds of orchestral music and an aerial shot that closes in on a snowy, beforested highway. The camera’s approach down the isolated road sets the tone for this cold and atmospheric thriller and hints at an arrival. Reeves tries to innovate on the original by setting up a prologue scene that occurs in the middle of things and then backtracking to the explanation. The scene is only important to the overall narrative because it works to introduce and emphasize a character original to the North American remake (more on that later). The narrative rewinds to introduce our protagonist Owen (Kodi Smit-McPhee), a meek and bullied schoolboy who takes his aggression out on his own reflection. Owen spends his time alone, either playing on the jungle gym in his apartment complex or watching over the other…
Cloverfield director Matt Reeves moves his focus from big monsters to little ones in the adolescent vampire romance, Let Me In. The film is an adaptation of the highly lauded Swedish film Let the Right One In directed by Tomas Alfredson and scripted by John Ajvide Lindqvist. Lindqvist joins Reeves as co-writer for the North American remake.
Let Me In begins ominously with bass-heavy thuds of orchestral music and an aerial shot that closes in on a snowy, beforested highway. The camera’s approach down the isolated road sets the tone for this cold and atmospheric thriller and hints at an arrival. Reeves tries to innovate on the original by setting up a prologue scene that occurs in the middle of things and then backtracking to the explanation. The scene is only important to the overall narrative because it works to introduce and emphasize a character original to the North American remake (more on that later). The narrative rewinds to introduce our protagonist Owen (Kodi Smit-McPhee), a meek and bullied schoolboy who takes his aggression out on his own reflection. Owen spends his time alone, either playing on the jungle gym in his apartment complex or watching over the other tenants’ activity. The courtyard setting is a contained world that is important to the film’s process, as it was in the Swedish original.
Like Oskar in Let the Right One In, a second floor prospect allows Owen to survey a microcosm of activity, including the foreshadowed coming of a young girl, barefoot in the snow and her male guardian. Abby (Chloe Moretz) seems normal except for her apparent high threshold for freezing cold temperatures. However, we learn that the new arrival is a lonely vampire who wants Owen, as well as North American audiences, to let her in. Owen and Abby forge a bond on the snow covered jungle gym out of their shared isolation. Many of the scenes that take place in this contained world between Owen and Abby are mirror images to the Swedish original.
Smit-McPhee is a good fit for Owen, a darker character than his Swedish counterpart, taking voyeurism to the next level with creepy masks and a telescope. Smit-McPhee’s doe eyes and pitiful expressions portray the innocence that Abby and his bullies threaten, but which viewers know is starting to slip without provocation.
I expected a purer performance from the more experienced actor Moretz. I found myself distracted by her over affected gestures, including her take on the scene that treats the subject of the title, the creed that prohibits vampires to enter homes without an invitation. Moretz is not helped by the fact that Reeves has fallen back on CGI to create Abby’s homicidal attacks. Instead of allowing his actress to reveal Abby’s monstrous side, Reeves gives us a bouncy ball with fangs and superhuman strength, an unnecessary attempt to justify a 90 lb girl’s ability to take down an adult. Lena Leandersson, who played Abby’s Swedish equivalent, does a much better job of portraying the diminutive hunter with only the skills of her acting to demonstrate the fierce and animal nature of the vampire.
Reeves also sacrifices character depth in his decision to replace the well-developed supporting cast of tenants in the original with a new police detective character (Elias Koteas). While a mourning neighbour makes it his responsibility to investigate recent deaths that coincide with Abby’s arrival, Reeve inserts an external authority figure, providing a certain accountability to a narrative that otherwise occurs in a snowy vacuum. This decision, however, does add to the ‘kids only’ worldview Reeves smartly illustrates with his smaller cast of adults and cinematic choices, for instance, leaving Owen’s mother physically obscured. Fans of the original will be disappointed by the English translation of the tenant Virginia (Sasha Barrese), whom in this film is younger and extremely sexualized. The actress has no lines and exists as an object in the narrative—there to show boob, be bitten, and burst into flames.
Reeves brings excellent technique to this beautifully shot film, but a mediocre lead and shallow subcharacters detract from an otherwise rounded production. For those who have seen the original, the North American remake will resemble the original too closely without adding much value.
Overall Score: 7.05 – Good. (7s are good, but not great. These films often have a stereotypical plot or are great movies that have a few minor flaws. Fans of this movie’s genre might love it, but others will still enjoy seeing it in theaters)
Let Me In is a little louder, sexier, and less complex than the original Let the Right One In, but remains respectful to the central themes of isolation and innocence. Worth the trip to the theatre, but the original still steals the show.
