Introduction:
You could probably tell from my spirited endorsement of The Marx Brothers’ movies a month ago that I’m hoping to point you all toward areas of the film landscape that you’re missing if you just stick to the past 50 years of Hollywood blockbusters (not that I’m opposed to those either, of course).
Today’s film is in another such area, because it is a Swedish film. If you’re a person who has never watched a movie that was made in a language besides English, then let me take this opportunity to tell you that you are missing out on huge quantities of truly incredible cinema. A case-in-point of what you’re missing out on (and a great place to start, if that unfortunately describes you) is the Swedish horror-drama Let the Right One In. And for a spoiler-free account of why you should make it a priority to check this film out, read on.
The Characters of Let the Right One In:
Let the Right One In does not skimp on the tension, violence, and horror that accompany its drama, but unlike so many movies that contain those same elements, its characters are nuanced, subtle, and—despite the fantasy elements, I would not hesitate to say—realistic. They’re never reduced to archetypes; their motivations are messy and unconventional, but nonetheless understandable.
In particular, the film centers on the meeting and developing relationship of two characters: a vampire named Eli, and a human named Oskar—both about 12 years old, at least in a developmental sense. And their relationship is almost the reverse of what you might expect based on their respective, uh, species. Far from monstrous, Eli is a softspoken, tragic figure who prefers not to kill when possible. And far from innocent, Oskar is obsessed with news reports of grizzly murders, and spends his spare time fantasizing about torturing or murdering the bullies at his school.
It impresses me whenever the lead actors of a horror movie give truly compelling performances, but for actors as young as the lead pair in Let the Right One In to provide such phenomenal acting is endlessly commendable. Lina Leandersson’s performance, so full of quiet knowing looks and maturity, makes Eli’s true age and breadth of experiences believable. And Kåre Hedebrant provides a perfect balance of sadism and naivety, restraining jubilation when violence is visited on his tormentors, and yet awkward in pursuing his friendship and eventual romance with Eli.
Now, not to discredit the work of those two actors, but the facilitation and realization of such young talent must also lend esteem to their director. And on top of that, I would be remiss if I did not mention John Lindqvist as praiseworthy in this context, given that he’s the author of not only the original novel on which the film is based, but also the screenplay adaptation.
Regardless of where the credit ultimately falls, the characters bring a twist to the genre, and it’s a twist that is well-demonstrated by carefully considering the portent of the film’s title: Let the Right One In. Initially it seems to be an admonishment to be careful who you invite into your home, a reference to vampires needing to be invited into a property to enter—which is a phenomenon that features prominently at the beginning of a key scene in the film. Yet as the film has demonstrated prior to that scene, and demonstrates again in that scene, letting Eli into one’s home is not necessarily the wrong move.
Eli protects people they care about from their vampiric urges (as evidenced by the scene in which Oskar slits his hand), so it’s not a practical error to let Eli in. And Eli even hopes to avoid participating in the requisite violence (as evidenced by the scene after Håkan first fails to retrieve blood), so strictly speaking it’s not a moral error to let Eli in either.
It makes more sense, then, to think of the title as a warning for Eli, rather than a warning for those that encounter them. That is, it could refer to ‘letting someone in’ in the sense of choosing someone to trust. To reduce risk, violence, and loneliness, it’s necessary for Eli to become close and even intimate with dangerous people—people like their initial familiar, Håkan . . . people like Oskar.
The Cinematography of Let the Right One In:
For the uninitiated, perhaps it’s concerning that it would be accurate to call Let the Right One In an ‘adolescent vampire romance movie.’ There is, of course, another film that fits that bill and which also released in 2008. Yet I can hardly conceive of two films more far apart in reality. This is well-trodden ground by now, so I don’t think it will shock anyone when I say: Twilight is an overwhelmingly dry and boring work—a movie with flat grey cinematography, schoolyard-level writing, and emotionless acting.
Now, you’ve already heard some of my praise for the writing and acting of Let the Right One In in the prior section. But as for cinematography, Let the Right One In doesn’t let its brooding subject matter turn it grey; it’s instead a film dominated by three sharply contrasting colors: pure white, pure black, and bright red.
The coldness and hostility of the movie’s universe is captured in the look of it no less than in characters like Håkan, Conny, and Oskar. Shots throughout the film linger on snow falling through the air, snow and sleet resting on the ground, and pale ice with openings used to threaten children and conceal corpses. This builds in the viewer a desire for warmth of both body and spirit. And given that all such chilling circumstances are bright white, it’s ironically in darkness that we seek and find that welcoming warmth—the warmth of a mother and son simply brushing their teeth, of a group of friends spending time together, or of two people lying in a bed. Just as a vampire abhors the light of day and clings to the shadows, so the audience finds emotional refuge in dark interior spaces in the film.
Yet such dark, inviting scenarios are not as safe as they seem . . . for their interiority contains a different kind of threat—an internal threat, the threat of red: thin, wet red blood that intervenes in the happiness of Eli at fixed intervals; thick, dry red blood that brings Oskar and Eli together for better or worse; and red fire in which one side character chooses to be consumed.
Moreover, beyond such color relationships, the cinematography is to be celebrated for the creative camerawork or composition of many individual sequences in Let the Right One In. A case-in-point is Eli’s visit to the hospital, which opens with the subtle understated strangeness of an underdressed and shoeless child wandering out of the snow and into the frame, feet dripping, then vanishing from sight in the following shot, only to reappear in plain sight within the frame through movement alone.
Similarly, scenes in which Oskar is party to acts of violence often conclude with extreme closeups on his face, so we can see the play of the inappropriate smile that begins to form there.
And its most brilliantly shot sequence of all is sadly a major spoiler, so all I’ll say is that what follows the moment where Oskar begins being held underwater is an approach to displaying its subject matter that does so much with so little that it just might be the most elegantly achieved climax scene in the entire horror genre.
Conclusion:
With just one small asterisk for an unfortunate scene featuring a large number of computer-generated cats, there’s really no aspect of Let the Right One In that isn’t exceptional. I’ve focused my efforts here on showcasing some laudable aspects of its unique central characters and artistic visuals, yet I could just as easily have poured praise on its satisfying overall plot arc, the foil to the main characters provided by almost every single side character, or its moody music.
But covering every detail would leave nothing to discover for those of you who have reached this point in the review without having first watched the film. So, if that describes you (and you’re not overly squeamish), it’s time to fix that!
Let the Right One In is a serious, gripping film about a strange connection that brings relief to two morose people: an old unwilling killer and a young vengeful loner. Both of them are technically children, and yet neither is a normal child. Now, whether you would prefer to consider it a particularly strange coming-of-age story, a particularly dark drama, or a particularly sensitive horror, at any rate I assure you it’s the right one; so let it in.
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