Friday, October 1, 2010

Let Me In

 *****
Four Stars Out of Five

I wanted to avoid this blog now that my new semester at school started. But, like a certain gay cowboy said to another gay cowboy, "I wish I knew how to quit you, Ennis." My blog isn't actually named "Ennis," but I decided to go ahead and roll with it, anyway. I was feeling a reference to a gay-cowboy drama, and frankly, I'm not going to let your homophobia interfere with a slightly out-of-date reference to a pop culture phenomenon. See, I've been busy educating myself, so I haven't had much time to devote to this splendid little blog. And, there hasn't been much quality cinema to be viewed lately, but since I love my audience of one so much, I will give you a rundown of the last few flicks I saw before I tackle head-on this new vampire flick I saw today.

The Last Exorcism was great. Four Stars. No bullshit.
Machete was even greater. Five stars. Duh.
The Town was really fucking good. Four stars. Affleck can direct.

There, glad we got that out of the way. Today, October 1st, marks a big day, not just because it marks the 39th anniversary of Disney World opening in Orlando, Florida, but also because both Let Me In and The Social Network found their way into theaters nationwide. I'll be honest, when I heard about both of those movies, I rolled my eyes like a hooker faking an orgasm in a cheap motel, because, really, why the fuck did anyone need to remake the amazing Swedish film, Let the Right One In, and why the fuck did David Fincher need to make a movie about goddamn Facebook? But I saw the previews for both, and, steadily, my interest in both films grew exponentially. I haven't yet seen The Social Network because I promised a friend (yes, I do have a couple of them) I would see it with him, but I had a chance to catch an afternoon showing of Let Me In, so I hopped at it. The creepiness of the movie was increased due to the fact that I was alone in the theater. Based on the amount of stars I've allotted the flick, I think it's safe to say I enjoyed it quite a bit.

As if you didn't already figure out from the paragraph above, Let Me In is a remake of the 2008 Swedish movie adaptation of Let the Right One In, an amazing movie in it's own right. When I'd heard that Hollywood had plans to remake the movie, I responded with expected cynicism: "Yes, let's take a great movie and neuter it by forcing it through the moronic Hollywood system. Great fucking idea!" was probably my initial reaction. I gained a little faith in the project once I heard Matthew Reeves, the director of Cloverfield (and potential new Superman helmer, which I'm hoping for), was signed on for the remake. Then, when I found out Chloe "Hit-Girl" Moretz was cast in the movie, I got a bit more excited. That is kind of funny, that a 13 year-old girl has already made such a name for herself that geeks the world over are singing her praises. So, when the initial previews came out, I was pretty impressed. The color palette was excellent, and it seemed a faithful remake of it's source material; the biggest difference seemed to be that this time I didn't have to read any subtitles.

The important thing to know going into the movie is that it's not exactly a remake. It's an adaptation of a novel, much like Let the Right One In is an adaptation. Instead of thinking "remake," which is kind of a toxic word in many filmgoer's minds these days, think of it as an adaptation, much like we view every different version of "Romeo + Juliet" as an adaptation. Reeves has succeeded in creating an excellent version of the story, changing a few things around and creating a bit more ambiguity at the end. He also excised certain subplots in order to make the movie flow more beautifully, electing instead to focus almost entirely on the relationship between Owen and Abby. But I'm getting ahead of myself here.

Owen (Kodi Smit-McPhee) is a lonely child. He's 12, the age when life starts to feel like a never-ending kick in the nutsack. If the onset of puberty weren't enough to deal with, Owen also has to combat horrible bullies at school, and his parent's recent separation. He tries to cope with these issues in different ways, but considering he has no true support system, he tends to focus more on violent fantasies involving his tormentors at school. Then, one night, Owen spies his new neighbors moving in: a young girl his age and her father rent the apartment right next to him and his mother. Owen meets his new neighbor, Abby (brilliantly, and I do mean brilliantly, portrayed by Chloe Moretz), and she's a bit different. It's the middle of winter, but she doesn't wear any shoes outside. The first words out of her mouth to Owen are, "We can't be friends," to which a crushed Owen replies, "Who says I want to be friends with you, anyway?" Owen, a damaged young boy, wants nothing more than to connect to somebody, and this introduction doesn't help at all. Slowly, though, Owen and Abby begin to cultivate a friendship. At the same time, somebody is abducting and murdering certain townsfolk in a ritualistic fashion. Before long, Owen recognizes something is definitely off about Abby, and he eventually pieces together that she is a vampire.

Now, I'm not talking about a diamond-shining pussy vampire like we all know and hate from the Twilight series. Abby's vampirism is not glamorous, nor is it romanticized for one minute. There's nothing seductive about Abby's actions, and tweens the world over aren't going to fantasize about being this type of vampire. This is a relief to see in a mainstream film these days, considering vampires are the new sex symbols for the youngsters. I don't know how the fuck a 200 year-old vampire sucking blood and trying to bone a high school chick got sexy, but that's where we are as a society. I'm not going to sociologically dissect the issue, but know that it disgusts me, and with each passing day, I become more and more convinced that we're headed towards the apocalypse due to these stupid kids and their stupid sexy vampires. Abby is an animal when she needs to feed, and she does so in very gruesome fashion throughout the film. At one moment, she is a sweet, adorable kid befriending the weirdo next door, and the next, she's literally tearing chunks of flesh off of an unsuspecting jogger. It's creepy stuff which is enhanced by Moretz's outstanding performance.


The story, while relatively simple, is heartbreaking. Very early on, we see the type of hell Owen is living in; his parents are conspicuously absent - we never get to see his mother's face, which is certainly symbolic of her absenteeism as a parent - and he is tortured every day at school. At the tender age of 12, when a person's confidence is so flimsy, and that person wants nothing more than to fit in in some capacity, Owen is instead beaten and tormented by bullies at school. I generally hate bullies in movies, because their evilness is so cliched and overdone. The bullies in Let Me In tend to drift in and out of the cliches, but their actions towards Owen are so brutal and painful to watch that my heart literally pumped faster for Owen every time they appeared on screen. This alienation Owen feels allows him to let his guard down with Abby, a pretty young girl who appears to like him, even if it is only as friends. Owen is so hurt and aching for companionship that he is even willing to look past Abby's less-savory qualities, like being a vampire. Their relationship unfolds organically, and the connections formed between the two is convincing thanks to the splendid acting from the child stars. Near the end, an interesting development occurs, and it's hard to tell if Abby really feels for Owen, or if she's just using him for her own gains.


The cast is quite small, but the acting across the board is flawless. I've already sand Chloe Moretz's praises, and Kodi Smit-McPhee is amazing, as well. He brings the perfect amount of innocence to the role, and underneath the alienation, you can see he's developing a bit of a violent streak. The subtle actions and nuances these two young actors display are, in a word, stunning. I hope that they continue to hone their craft over the years, and I expect really big things from both of them if they can keep their noses clean (I mean that literally and figuratively) and avoid the pitfalls that so many talented young stars succumb to (Here's to you, Coreys, Lohan, Creepy Kid from The Sixth Sense, and Olsen Twins).


The aspect of the film I was most surprised by was the direction. Matthew Reeves proved he could handle character moments in his other film, Cloverfield, but he goes above and beyond here. He focuses so expertly on Owen and Abby that it's almost as if we are flies on the wall observing their blossoming friendship. Reeves also excels in the horror/action department, delivering several great sequences that both get the heart pumping and genuinely creep you out. There's a legitimately amazing car crash scene in the film that made my jaw drop. Other scenes don't skimp out on the blood and gore, either, for the gorehounds out there. It's refreshing to see a film balance the horror and softer character moments and splendidly as Reeves does here. Based on his two films to date, I wholeheartedly endorse him to direct the next Superman movie (and I know that counts for something). Reeves could have phoned this in; instead, he opted to create his own version of a story told twice already (once in prose, once on film). His vision is different enough from the other two to warrant it's existence, and he focuses on certain aspects of the story more intently than the others, which raises the question of whether or not there truly can be a definitive version of a story. Several people have complained that Reeves has changed the characters too much from their source material, that this is not what the author had intended for them. To those people, I say poppycock. Once a story is released into the world, it ceases to belong solely to the author (financially, it sure as shit belongs to the author though) and then becomes a story of the world, in which every interpretation is correct, and every emotion felt is equally as important. Reeves' interpretation is different, but man, is it fucking good. Check it out!