In a little town outside Stockholm where, from the look of things, it's always cold, covered in snow, and people tend to tuck their sweaters into their pants, we meet Oskar (impressive newcomer Kåre Hedebrant). Oskar's a scrawny 12-year-old, pale even by Scandinavian standards, with a shaggy mop of blonde hair and a particularly nasty bully problem at school. In his off time, ignored by his divorced parents, Oskar practices retaliatory strikes on an unsuspecting tree in his courtyard ("Squeal like a pig!" he demands). It's there that he meets Eli (equally impressive newcomer Lina Leandersson).
Eli's not like other girls. For one thing, she smells kinda funny. Also, cats are scared of her and candy makes her barf. Then there's her habit of answering how old she is with noncommittal phrases like "12...more or less". It's all a bit suspicious. But Oskar's Facebook friend queue isn't exactly overflowing, so a tenuous friendship forms. Of course, Oskar's no dummy, and soon enough he gets curious. A clear giveaway would be Eli's tendency to walk around barefoot, particularly in the palpably frigid atmosphere beautifully created by director Tomas Alfredson.
The relationship between Oskar and Eli is of the slow, building variety - the type you have to watch independent films (or the occasional Hollywood Oscar contender) to find. Writer John Ajvide Lindqvist, adapting from his novel, does a nice job creating an air of eerie calm, as though something's lurking beneath all that new-fallen snow. He intersperses mild (by American standards) flashes of violence with small, bonding moments between the kids. Eli, it seems, can help Oskar with his bullying problem. What Oskar provides for Eli becomes the movie's brilliant central mystery.
Despite all the advantages that come with being a vampire (eternal life, speed-climbing, decreased time in front of the mirror, an immediate in with the Goth crowd), there's always one pesky problem: that hunger for the red stuff. And no, I don't mean a fine Chianti (sorry, Hannibal). It's that darned craving for blood. Depending on the kitsch factor of the vampire story, authors have handled this need in a variety of ways. Animal substitutes are popular (though not much of a solution for the vegetarian demographic), and in the case of HBO's "True Blood", society has manufactured a popular synthetic version (not a bad idea - if only the rest of the show were half as clever). "Let the right one" puts this problem front and center. If Eli doesn't feed, her stomach growls and she gets more and more desperate (it's also the cause of that funny smell). While she has a minion to do her dirty work (Renfield to her Drac), he's so pitifully bad at his job that it results in a tragedy that could make Christopher Nolan rethink his "Two-Face" design.
With an ending that's satisfying and deceptively hopeful, "Let the right one in" gets under your skin the way any good vampire movie should. Though to call this a vampire movie is a bit of a disservice (the V-word is only used once). Still, like most modern takes on the fanged ones, "Let" counts on the fact that the audience already knows its vamp lore, and the film's title is a play on vampires needing to be welcomed into a home (wait'll you see the ramifications if you don't). But "Let" has an undeniably deeper meaning if you're willing to look for it. I'm as sick of vampire stories as the rest of you, but it's nice to see that this most overused of monsters can still pack some (sorry) bite.
| Movie title | Let the right one in |
|---|---|
| Release year | 2008 |
| MPAA Rating | R |
| Our rating | |
| Summary | If you see one vampire movie this season, it shouldn't be the one you're probably thinking of. It should be this quietly beautiful, fiendishly gripping Swedish import which is likely to stay with you longer than your average teen romance novel. |
