Let Me In

(2010)

Directed by

Matt Reeves

Review by Zach Saltz

Posted - 10/31/10

It isn't supposed to be like this. American remakes are not supposed to be superior to their supposedly more sophisticated European originals. The director of Cloverfield is not supposed to have tremendous cinematic vision, and Hit-Girl is not supposed to be a compelling, beautiful young actress. But then again, Let Me In is not supposed to be as good as it really is, unless you remember how good Let the Right One In really was, and how close a resemblance Matt Reeves' new film bears to the original.

The film is a relieving antidote to the Twilight hysteria, and a reminder that not all vampire movies have to have a Team Edward and impossibly good-looking 20-somethings in the roles of impressionable teenagers. What may be most curious about Let Me In is that thematically, the story deals with similar conflicts and plot points – namely, coming-of-age, first love and heartbreak, and the struggle to fit in at school. In the words of Godard, the best revenge is a good movie, and Let Me In takes Twilight's frivolous treatment of those potentially serious themes and turns it into an enormously affecting film capable of pleasing both fans of the vampire genre and filmgoers searching for an engrossing, well-written character study.

The film takes place in March, 1983, in bleak, snowy Los Alamos, New Mexico (transplanted from bleak, snowy Sweden in the original). 12-year-old Owen (Kodi Smit-McPhee, from The Road) lives at a forlorn apartment complex with a mother who is rarely seen, and next to unfriendly neighbors. He is picked on at school by bigger kids, and doesn't fight back. Owen's interest is suddenly peaked when a new girl, Abby (Chloe Moretz, from Kick-Ass), moves into the apartment complex with a man who appears to be her father. She walks barefoot in the snow and sees Owen on the monkey bars alone one night. “We can't be friends,” she solemnly tells him.

But inevitably, the two strike up an unlikely friendship predicated on his loneliness and her strangeness. As in Let the Right One In, Abby shows protective feelings toward the bullied Owen, and she tells him that if he can't fight back, she will help him. Owen learns Morse Code so him and Abby can communicate through their shared wall in the apartment complex. Soon, it becomes clear that deeper feelings of attachment are involved. “Owen, do you like me?” Abby asks one night. “Yeah. A lot,” he replies. Abby responds, “Would you still like me even if I wasn't a girl?”

Abby is, of course, a blood-thirsty vampire who, when hungry, uses her innocent appearance of a 12-year-old girl to feast on unsuspecting passer-bys. She's not proud of her vampiric instincts, and her “father” (Richard Jenkins) is forced to kill victims and drain their blood into a carton to keep Abby alive. Wisely, the film keeps an arm's distance from the spectacle of vampire slayings; the tone of this film is dark, somber, sober, and less bloody than one would ever expect an R-rated vampire movie to be. No real backstory is necessary for Abby's character – all we need to know is that she cares about Owen, and like a child, she is perhaps incapable of realizing how dangerously great of an impact she makes on those around her.

Though story and tone remain remarkably similar to the Swedish original, a few details make Let Me In richer and more cohesive than the original. Abby does not morph into an ancient disfigured old woman, but is revealed to have been just “12 years old . . . for a very long time.” Unnecessary subplots from the original, such as the neighbors from the apartment complex, are alleviated for the most part, and the film hints less at the powerful allure of eroticism (as the original emphasizes), and more at the rather sweet idealism of 12-year-olds experiencing first love. Abby climbs into Owen's bed naked, and Owen takes Abby to a deserted area of the apartment complex, but sex is never really implied, just imposed by adult audiences. As James Berardinelli and other critics have pointed out, the film has more in common with Rob Reiner's Flipped than other vampire movies, but this is not a criticism of the film. Additionally, the CG is much improved from the original, and setting the story in the midst of Reagan-era hysterics makes the overtones of the story more relevant for American audiences.

The performances must be commended. Kodi Smit-McPhee is lanky and taut, less awkward and baby-ish than his Swedish counterpart, but equally aloof and alienated. Chloe Moretz is immensely appealing as the young vampiress, and her sober demeanor is a reflection of the stunning quality of her performance, a complete contradiction from how bubbly the young actress comes off in television interviews. The other adult performances of note (Richard Jenkins as Abby's protector and Elias Koteas as the local investigator) are strong, but their characters take subsidiary roles to the heart of the movie, which is the relationship between Owen and Abby.

It's not particularly surprising that Let Me In has been an underwhelming, downright disappointing factor at the box office. It has grossed only $11 million – in other words, less than Furry Vengeance, Extraordinary Measures, and even Hubble 3D. This may due to the fact that Let Me In does not appeal to a wide audience base – vampires, after all, are a teen phenomenon, and Let Me In's R rating will restrict hoards of teenage girls from seeking out this film as a temporary replacement while waiting for the next Twilight film to be released. Adults likewise won't immediately gravitate toward a film about 12-year-olds, and even fans of the original film may be skeptical that Let Me In has anything new or fresh to offer.

But the truth is, this is a film that will please those fans as much as an American remake of a cult classic could possibly please such fans. There are so many ways in which this project could have been misdirected and gone horribly wrong in the hands of an American production company, but in staying true to the spirit of the original, Matt Reeves has created an uncompromising film that is even more rewarding than its predecessor. Let Me In is the best recent vampire movie to date precisely became vampires are neither glorified nor vilified, just painfully, sadly realized.

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