Movie Review Let Me In

Let Me In

This is a vampire movie. At some point, we might think all the possible iterations of that genre would be discovered and done. For thirty years every time they announced a new mega-resort in Las Vegas, my dad would say “that’s it! This one is going to break the bank. Too many rooms! Too many casinos!” But it never happened. I guess there is no end to vampire movies either.
But this is not your typical vampire movie. Not by a long shot.
It begins in Los Alamos, NM, in the winter. IT is dark, night time. A winding road through juniper-heavy mesas of the high desert, snow on the ground, snow falling. Tiny blinking lights appear and slowly draw nearer until we can see three vehicles, each with flashing lights. An ambulance escorted by two police cars. A man has poured acid all over his head and torso.
It is a quiet movie. Almost solemn. The story focuses on a twelve-year old boy, living with his mom in an apartment complex while his parents are divorcing. He is quiet, a loner, no friends, tightly-wound. He is being bullied to a dangerous degree at school. No one has a clue. He keeps everything from his mother.
Someone moves in next door in the middle of the night, a middle-aged man who carries a large trunk up the stairs and into the empty apartment.
The next night, as the boy, Owen, sits in the snow and the dark on a play set in the courtyard, a bare-footed girl appears. She looks to be about his age. They look at each other.
“You don’t have any shoes,” he says to her.
“I don’t really get cold,” she explains.
Then, “I can’t be your friend,” she says. Nice. Very nice.
It is a dark movie, taking place mostly at night (how else would you show a vampire movie?) but spiritually dark as well, and morally ambiguous. Every scene reeks with loneliness and alienation.
It is so very subtle. We are lead slowly, carefully down a path of simmering intrigue and suspense, while the boy and the girl, Abby, form a strange, awkward bond.
Several stories are taking place at the same time. The boy’s, the girl’s, the girl’s “guardian” (we may as well call him Renfield) the police detective, the bully and his friends, mom and dad. They are all deftly crafted to make their ways unerringly together. ‘The mother is depressed and absorbed with her divorce, the fact that her life is falling apart. To emphasize this, we never see her face. She is always out of focus, partially hidden, her back to us, letting us know that her connection to her son is peripheral, at best. Still, he manages to find a friend. A strange one, but someone at least.
“Will you go steady with me?” He asks.
“Steady? What’s that?”
People begin dying, disappearing. The boy sees some things, hears things. Eventually, he realizes what Abby is. With twelve-year old innocence, he accepts the truth of it, and then accepts her. When he knows, he confronts her.
“How old are you really?” He asks. She looks sad, hesitant.
“I’m twelve,” she insists, “but I’ve been twelve for a really long time.” What a great line. The only other hint as to how long she’s been undead is the collection of antique puzzle-games on her dresser.
For a vampire movie, there is very little blood. Some of course, but nothing like you’re oh-so-boring, run-of-mill long-toothed slasher flicks. Most of the violence is out of the frame—hinted at. We hear it, but don’t really see it. This makes it much creepier.
The story builds carefully, slowly. It is well-crafted. Nothing flashy happens, there is no climax, only sadness, acceptance, and inevitability. We get a better look at the vulnerable side of the vampire, how dependant they are on their handler, their guardian, the necessity of a Renfield in their “lives.”
The two kids do great jobs. Owen is played by Kodi Smit-McPhee, and Abby by Chloe Moretz. She is haunting in her vulnerability, her uncertainty, and her loneliness. And devastating with her predation. When she is feeding, there is some herky-jerky CGI, which, despite its low-tech look, works quite well in this movie.
Abby’s guardian is played by Richard Jenkins who some of you will recognize as the Texan at the Ashram in Eat Love Pray. Or is that whom?
The movie is rated R, for violence and some gore. Remember, I said it wasn’t bloody by vampire standards—it’s still pretty gory. But it is a classic. Very creative, very inventive, with lots of subtle nods to the culture of vampiric aficionados. I especially liked the scene where Abby asks Owen to invite her in (vampires cannot enter a house or room without being invited) and he asks what will happen if he doesn’t invite her. She takes a deep breath, crosses the threshold, and stands in the middle of the room. In a moment she begins to bleed everywhere. She doesn’t know why—only that it always happens. (He quickly recants and invites her in.)
I really liked this movie. It was far better than the standard fare. I will give it a 10 for the genre rating, and an 8.5 for a standard rating. Except for a couple swear words, and one or two graphic scenes, I think Nita would have appreciated this one. She’s somewhere in Utah though, having left me for a newborn, so it’s a moot point.