Overture Films’ LET ME IN. Photo Credit: Saeed Adyani. ©2010 Fish Head Productions, LLC All Rights Reserved.

CreepyLA reviews the American remake of “Let the Right One In”

Adolescence can be a trying time in a young person’s life. Your body’s changing. You feel awkward. Your parents are too busy with their own lives to really get what’s going on with you. And if you’re Owen in Let Me In, Matt Reeves’s adaptation of the Swedish film and novel Let the Right One In, add to that some very brutal harassment from the schoolyard bully, an alcoholic mother, an absent father, a weird-smelling neighbor girl who is the only person that will talk to you, and a serious addiction to Now and Laters, and your life officially sucks.

Let Me In is set in Los Alamos, New Mexico, oceans away from the Stockholm suburb of the original book and film. Yet an icy winter in the Land of Enchantment provides an equally stark and chilling setting for his story of a couple of pre-teen outcasts who find each other, and the string of grisly murders that bring them together.

It is the winter of 1983 and Owen (played by the creepy, awkward and forlorn Kodi Smit-McPhee) is living with his mother (the faceless Cara Buono) who is going through the tail end of a divorce to Owen’s father. Skinny and pale with huge blue eyes, Owen is barely a drowned rat compared to the other kids who torment and beat him, of course, to the ignorance of any adult in the vicinity.

When Owen meets Abby (Chloe Moretz), who has just moved in with her father, she tells him “we can’t be friends.” Perfect. Of course. She’s just like everyone else. Who cares? Yet, she continues to come around. They talk, share moments, even a Rubik’s Cube and the two develop a sweet closeness. Meanwhile, Abby’s father (the exquisitely tragic Richard Jenkins) has a strange hobby that drives him to trek out into the snow with a handy kit containing an assortment of odd trinkets including a huge butcher knife and very sturdy container reminiscent of a milk jug.

Let Me In gives the viewing public a vampire option beyond obsessive love, shimmering skin, sex and gore. Ultimately, vampires are parasites and Reeves’s script shows the juxtaposition of the vampire that feeds on blood for nourishment and survival, and the vampire that feeds on fear and intimidation. There was a strong attempt to keep the story within the realm of a plausible reality. There was no overt sensationalization to be had, just a little girl who “needs blood.” So engaging was the reality, in fact, that the addition of CGI during the few scenes where it was used was jarring and almost comical. It would have been interesting to see where the imagination could have gone with subtle inferences or showcasing particularly gruesome moments.

For those who may wonder how the film differs from the Swedish version, there are some subtle differences that make it “American” – references to Reagan era politics, Michael Giacchino’s ominous, tension-building score, and the erroneous (and brief) CGI moments. The two films told the same story in almost the same way, yet the outcome was two very distinct films.

Co-produced by Overture Films (The Crazies, Pandorum, Sunshine Cleaning) and Hammer Film Productions (yes, THE Hammer Film studio horror juggernaut of the 60’s and 70’s), Let Me In takes it back to adolescence the way you remember it: when everything was Life or Death.

Opens October 1.