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Kid 'n' Prey

Oh the perils of youth. Navigating school cliques, dealing with hormonal surges, trying to determine if your new friend is a vampire. Okay, that last one may be a bit unique. But such is the case with Owen, the twelve year-old loner who befriends Abby, a mysterious new tenant in his apartment complex. Abby is also twelve, or at least "twelve, more or less" as she cryptically puts it. She also smells kinda funny, walks barefoot in the snow, and is great with a Rubik's Cube. If this all sounds familiar, it's because "Let Me In" is a remake of "Let the Right One In", the small Swedish gem that made numerous Top Ten lists in 2008.

Writer-director Matt Reeves, of "Cloverfield" (really!), went back to the original John Ajvide Lindqvist novel ("Låt den rätte komma in") for this adaptation (inexplicably changing the meaning of the title in the process). Still, there are moments in the film that feel like almost shot-for-shot recreations of the Swedish version.

As in the original, young Owen (Kodi Smit-McPhee) is mercilessly bullied in school (really, these kids are nasty). Back home, he acts out his revenge on an unsuspecting tree in his courtyard. One night, while engaging in a spot of innocent voyeurism through his telescope, Owen sees Abby move in with her father - or at least a man that appears to be her father. The two preteens form a tenuous friendship - meeting during evenings in the courtyard - as tenants start disappearing and a nosy policeman (Elias Koteas) starts snooping around.

The key to making the film work rests on the relationship between the two kids. As Abby, Chloë Grace Moretz - so preternaturally awesome as Hit-Girl in "Kick-Ass" - is out of her depth. To be fair, this is an almost insurmountably difficult role for a young actress. She must be able to convey the weary experience of hundreds of years spent in a twelve year-old body. In the Swedish version, Lina Leandersson knocked it out of the park, adopting a thousand-mile stare of desperation and vulnerability. Ms. Moretz rarely rises above the mischievous pout of a kid keeping a big secret. As her companion, Richard Jenkins (a seemingly perfect bit of casting) is let down by a script that sells his character short.

However, Mr. Reeves does have one ace-in-the-hole in the form of Kodi Smit-McPhee ("The Road"). The young actor (only thirteen when the film was shot) is remarkable to watch. Something about his wide eyes, high cheekbones and awkward haircut create the look of a boy who was removed from the oven too early. His performance achieves such honest levels of heartbreak that it's almost worth seeing the film just for him. Almost.

Mr. Reeves may seem like an odd choice to direct a small Swedish adaptation, but the "Cloverfield" helmer shows really ingenuity with his camera - watch the disorientation he achieves by mounting his camera in the back of a school bus, or the masterful shot of Owen sneaking out on his passed-out mother while "It's 10pm, do you know where your children are?" taunts from the TV screen. Still, Mr. Reeves isn't able to achieve the air of dread and hopelessness that permeated the Swedish film. And the transplanted Los Alamos setting, though appropriately snowy, never feels as remote and desolate as suburban Stockholm. Worse still, the director's use of special effects during a few key scenes is jarringly out of place. If subtitles scare you less than vampires, rent the original.