As a new film, "Let Me In" is perfectly serviceable art−horror fare, putting a new, chilling spin on the national vampire craze. But as an unnecessary remake of a two−year−old, genre−bending critical darling, it deserves to be left out.
"Let Me In" is based on the Swedish novel "Låt den rätte komma in" ("Let the Right One In" (2008), in English) and the subsequent 2008 Swedish film of the same name, both written by John Ajvide Lindqvist. In it, Owen (the excellent Kodi Smit−McPhee) — a bullied 12−year−old from a broken home — becomes fascinated with Abby (Chloë Moretz), the mysterious girl who moves in next door. As their relationship blossoms into a childhood romance, Owen learns that Abby has a dark secret: She's actually a murderous vampire.
"Let Me In" thematically traverses unsteady ground, simultaneously following stories of a budding relationship and a town ravaged by a sinister demon. Even the title is ambiguous, referring to both Abby's mystical need to be invited into a home and Owen's desperate desire for companionship, which never lessens when he discovers his "girlfriend's" true nature.
Owen isn't really the hero of this story, and Abby isn't really the villain. Early in the film, Owen stands alone in his room, chillingly wielding a knife before imaginary bullies, wearing a plastic mask like a miniature Hannibal Lecter. There is no doubt that there is a well of darkness in him long before he meets Abby.
Owen's tortured dark side and its comparison to Abby's nature form an undercurrent that tempers the otherwise−sweet story of their friendship. They need each other, in a way, but they're definitely not good for each other.
Perhaps because director Matt Reeves frames it more as a horror film than a coming−of−age story, "Let Me In" often abandons ambiguity for more obvious storytelling. There's a lot of talk about God, Jesus and true evil, seemingly ignoring the fact that the film is made interesting by the gray areas the characters reside in and not in absolutes.
There's also an omnipresent orchestral score that betrays the quiet bleakness of the scenery and strongly suggests which emotions the audience should be feeling. Reeves has aspirations to artfulness, but the thumping music recalls B−grade movies that need to tell their audiences when to be scared.
The ostensible object of that fear, Abby, feels like a bundle of contradictions: The dirty−but−angelic 12−year−old is also an aged demon, capable of harrowing violence. But Reeves's horror villain and Moretz's earnest child never coalesce. Moretz, who had a star turn in this year's "Kick−Ass," sells the innocence but never the age or deep regret. She speaks to Owen in whispering, sullen tones, but until there is blood present, there's nothing to fear.
When it is time for Abby to kill, Reeves misfires by making her a real movie monster. There are the standard close−ups of her white eyes and veiny skin, and when she attacks, a computer−generated image of Moretz growls and contorts in full view. Abby's monstrous form becomes disassociated from the quiet, human side of the film, existing instead in some other lazy vampire movie. The balance is off; it doesn't quite work to read Abby as a tiny Freddy Krueger, but Reeves is too upfront with her brutality for her to be truly sympathetic.
Reeves pushes farther into horror territory by ramping up the violence. To compare "Let Me In" to the Swedish film almost parodies the bloodthirsty American sensibility. Reeves rarely shies away from close−ups of knives ripping into skin, blood spurting or flesh burning.
He does, however, at least try to imbue his film with the artfulness that defined the original. He relies heavily on close−ups, unorthodox angles and unfocused point−of−view shots, placing the audience behind Owen's eyes. The effect is thoughtful, though sometimes distracting. It does lend itself, though, to a terrific scene — one of the film's scariest, even without Abby — in which a car accident is filmed with a stationary camera planted in the back seat.
Overall, there's nothing inherently bad about "Let Me In," but it still seems like a misfire in comparison to the original. That version is available on Netflix Watch Instantly. Save yourself the $10 and see it instead.
