Let Me In (2010)

USA

115 mins.

Directed by Matt Reeves

Starring: Chloe Moretz, Kodi Smit-McPhee, Richard Jenkins, Elias Koteas

The fact that Let Me In is just as good as Let the Right One In probably doesn't sit well with some people. You know those people. Always complaining about evil Hollywood remaking everything in sight. Usually they're right. In this instance, they are wrong. The only real differences between the two films are cultural and any other true differences are minor at best. I usually admit when something is true, like for example Uwe Boll actually making a decent movie (Rampage). Was I initially skeptical about the remake like most? Sure. Of course. But, I had no problem psyching myself up for it as soon as the trailers and advertising showed up and assuaged my reservations.

Having both Let Me In and Let the Right One In to enjoy is like getting two amazing presents at Christmas when you were never expecting to get either one. It's almost an embarrassment of riches. I can count on one hand the truly great horror remakes we've been graced with on one hand and one hand only. Was it necessary to remake Let the Right One In? Probably not. But Matt Reeves adapts both the original book and first movie so well that no one in their right mind would shun such a treat. The key word there is adapt. You have to take the property and make it your own as a filmmaker. Reeves both writes and directs and shows that Cloverfield was not just him playing puppet director to J.J. Abrams. He's the real deal and his second film surpasses the first - a rarity these days.

The rest of this is for those who haven't had the pleasure of seeing Let the Right One In first. They'll probably enjoy the remake even more.

The cast is so embedded in the material it's almost easy to overlook the quality of the performances. They're so on the money it's almost ridiculous. Kodi Smit-McPhee (The Road) plays Owen with a straightforward innocence tinged with a hint of disquieting unease. He's a content loner who's picked on mercilessly at school. One night he finds an unlikely friend in Abby, played brilliantly by Chloe Moretz (Kick-Ass). Abby is new to the apartment complex Owen resides in and moves in during the middle of the night with her "dad" played by the always great Richard Jenkins (The Visitor). Jenkins has just a handful of lines in the entire movie but makes it all work with fantastic body language and facial expressions. It might not be enough to warrant a best supporting actor nod, but the quality is there nonetheless. 

Needless to say, Abby is not normal (Young Frankenstein joke in there somewhere). She has an insatiable appetite for blood and her "dad" has to go out nightly and procure fresh quantities of it. He's growing tired of it, though, and is getting a tad sloppy. That's where Elias Koteas (Haunting In Connecticut) comes in as the local cop trying to figure out why the hell these grisly cult-like deaths are popping up all of a sudden.

None of that ends up unfolding conventionally and the relationship between the two young leads wouldn't work if McPhee and Moretz weren't up to the task. Thankfully they're just as strong as the original film's leads and bring their own memorable spin to the roles. A pervading sense of dread looms over the whole movie, even more so than the original. The only difference that I really noticed was that in the original film, there was a little more time taken to get to know some of the victims who lived in the same apartment complex as Owen and Abby. That speaks to the more laccadaisical, aloof style of the Swedish version as compared to the sinister, creeping dread of the American version.  

Both versions feel like a metaphor for how most kids are oblivious to their actions in the real world and how the realm of adults seems so distant and unknowable. This is played to great effect by keeping Owen's mom either out of focus or denying her any close-ups, thus emphasizing Owen's alienation from his surroundings. This is nothing new in film, but it's done so well that it would be criminal not to recognize the director's obvious skill.

There's an exquisite continuous interior shot of a car crash and subsequent rollover that is so well done and masterfully put together that it ranks right up there with anything pulled off by Scorsese or DePalma and is just as good or even better than the continuous shots in Children of Men. You'll know it when you see it and if you're not impressed then maybe you should take up painting by numbers or something.

Don't listen to the whiny broken records that can't wait to whisper in your ear like so many Iagos with "the original version is better." It's not. They are both magnificent in their own way and we are lucky to have both to compare favorably and savor over and over again. It's just sad when something this great comes along and is met with a shrug by moviegoers. Make an effort and see this as soon as you can. It is absolutely worth it in every way.

lMC