My local theater selection sort of sucks. Louisville’s film viewing venues typically showcase any mainstream film you could ask for, but the independent/art film scene is confined to one painfully limited theater. Worse, they usually receive their prints weeks after theaters in larger cities. Eventually I would learn that Let The Right One In would be arriving in late December, but it was coming to Nashville a few weeks earlier. Usually I can wait it out, but it’s intriguing trailer was extremely well put together and the word of mouth buzz was phenomenal. I have a special place in my heart for films constructed without the expectations of typically stupid American audiences in mind, and Let the Right One In looked to fill that void.
So a friend and I drove (round trip) 400 miles to see it, and our expectations were exceeded with charismatic glee; Let The Right One In instantly became my favorite zombie film. To put it blatantly, director Tomas Alfredson and writer John Ajvide Lindqvist created a film that flushed away much of the pretentious nonsense often associated with the vampire myth. Absent was the overblown romanticism of Anne Rice’s work, the run and gun nonsense of Underworld, the bloodbath of Blade, the science jargon of I am Legend, and the pandering-to-the-lowest-common-denominator of Twilight. In all of that’s place was a film that focused purely on the interpersonal aspects of friendship between necessity and vampirism. Let The Right One In features a personal, humanistic story, and, while it does obey a few vampire clichés, it always chooses sentiment and substance over the appeal of supernatural flash.
Set in early-80’s Stockholm, Let The Right One In falls behind the shoulders of twelve year old Oskar. Oskar is going through some problems with his schoolmates, specifically Conny and his friends, who have a penchant for bullying Oskar. Oskar desperately wants to stand up to them, but lacks the confidence and initiative to do anything about it. Around the same time, a seemingly young girl, Eli, and her “father” move into the apartment next to Oskar and his family. A few nights later Eli finds Oskar outside as he pretends to stand up to the bullies, and, over the next few days, the two evolve into friends.
What follows is Eli carefully concealing the fact that she is a vampire while trying to maintain her friendship with Oskar. Eli’s desire to balance her vampiric needs is in direction opposition to longing to befriend Oskar, and that very conflict is the emotional soul of the film. She doesn’t outright tell Oskar about her predicament, instead favor subtle cues and vague hints, most of which result in a great amount of self inflicted harm. She’s attracted to Oskar’s purity and innocence, but guards her feelings carefully.
This is most evident through Eli’s relationship with her “father,” who more closely appears to be a former romantic interest. His present role is to murder bystanders and gather blood for Eli, but his recent failure at doing so and his jealousy over Eli’s time with Oskar paints a grim picture for what’s in store. The gift of eternal youth isn’t kind to Eli (she is forever 12), and she’s clearly concerned that a relationship with Oskar (be it romantic or plutonic) would lead him down a similar path. Watching Eli carefully guide their friendship along is as riveting as the sheer brutality that is necessary for her survival. Let The Right One In hits on all cylinders, satisfying the need for traditional vampire lore through a paradigm that has yet to be presented in cinema.
And yeah, I guess the theme is relatively simple; kid gets bullied, kid makes new friend, new friends tells kid to stick up for himself, kid sticks finally sticks up for himself, etc – but the obvious (and most appreciated) difference is with the presentation. Hollywood films typically feel the need to explain every last detail, or offer nothing in the way of subtlety or presumption. American audiences crave an ultimate resolution and are always unsatisfied with loose ends or ambiguous conclusions. The ultimate fate of Eli and Oskar isn’t known at the end of the film, but the possibilities are endless and plenty of evidence exists for several presumed outcomes (and not to mention the general lack of “action” is withheld until of one of the most satisfying climaxes of 2008).
Presentation wise, the film shines. Blu-ray always delivers the goods as far as quality of picture, but the white balance (there is typically snow everywhere) is especially well maintained. The extras are a little sparse. A few deleted scenes are present. The first sort of adds more background to Oskar’s dialogue before his initial encounter with Eli, but, in a way, the lack of an explanation for his choice of words (“squeal piggy”) ultimately feels better left unsaid. One scene, where Oskar touches Eli’s back and recites a nursery rhyme, is alluded to in the actual film and wouldn’t have hurt the narrative with its inclusion. One eight minute featurette is present, save the part where Alfredson mention’s it’s set in the 80’s (I didn’t pick up on this, possibly because I am an idiot), it didn’t provide much additional detail.
