LET ME IN

Let Me In (2010)
Grade: A
Starring: Kodi Smit-McPhee, Chloe Grace Moretz, Elias Koteas, Cara Buono, Dylan Minnette, Richie Costar, and Richard Jenkins
PREMISE: A lonely young boy struggling with bullies and his parents' impending divorce strikes up a friendship with a girl who possesses a deadly secret.

RATED R for blood and gory violence (including bloody wounds and other disturbing images), language, brief nudity, and intense emotional content including child bullying

Let Me In offers a stark contrast to most movies that are these days considered "horror". In the modern era, the term "horror movie" usually describes a movie that is about 90 minutes long, features a half-dozen or so hapless, paper-thin characters in an underdeveloped, easy-to-predict story, then begins gleefully killing them off, one by one. These movies tend to compensate for their lack of story with lots of loud music, graphic sex and, of course, gratuitous violence. In the past decade, a pair of films (Saw and Hostel) became multi-chapter franchises just because they impressed people (at the time) with their creatively original depictions of gruesome deaths.

Well, Let Me In, a 2010 film adaptation of the 2004 novel "Let the Right One In", by Swedish author John Ajvide Lyndqvist, isn't like those films. In fact, it puts those films to shame. Yes, it has a steadily-mounting bodycount and a major character who will, at particular moments, kill you as soon as look at you, but it's so much more impressive than other "horror" movies because it's a much better movie. Here, the story is resounding and real. Here, the characters are of paramount importance, which means the acting is also. Here, the cinematography matters. Here, the very things that earn this film the "horror" label (such as the presence of a violent supernatural being) are so not the focus that they're almost unnecessary-a flat-out distraction at points. But that's only because the movie, unlike most horror movies, is made with care, with purpose, and could actually have a lingering effect on the average moviegoer. In short, for a person like me, who's big on movies but tends to shy away from "horror" movies, it's a dream.

Plot: Twelve-year-old Owen (Kodi Smit-McPhee) is barely living life anymore. It's more like he's just surviving, just continuing to take breaths. He's living in a tiny Los Alamos, NM apartment with his erstwhile, soon-to-be-divorced mother (Cara Buono), who's always either working or drinking or sleeping on the sofa. When he's not at school being bullied (his primary nemesis is a nasty older boy named Kenny, played by Dylan Minnette), he's haunting the apartment complex's quiet courtyard, buying Now-And-Laters at convenience stores, or watching a neighboring couple (Sasha Barrese and Dylan Kenin) fight and make up with depressing regularity.

But, one day, two new faces come to live in the complex. There's a worn, weary old man (Richard Jenkins), and a quiet, pretty girl about Owen's age (Chloe Grace Moretz). Owen soon meets the girl, who, like him, tends to haunt the one piece of jungle gym equipment in the courtyard by night. Soon, he's taught her how to arrange a Rubix Cube and how to tap Morse Code, which gives them an additional way to communicate, since their respective bedrooms share a wall. However, he only ever sees her at night. Of course, what he can't know is that the girl is actually a very lethal bloodthirsty, demonic creature (never specifically identified as a vampire) whose "father" spends his nights finding victims for the girl to drink. Soon Los Alamos is reeling from a series of hideous murders, but Owen and the girl, Abby, are growing closer and closer. Sure, she doesn't seem to eat anything, she never comes out during the day, and she walks barefoot in the snow without complaint, but he likes her. She even advises him to fight back against his schoolyard nemeses. But, one day, he tries to make a blood pact with her, sending her into an otherworldly frenzy. Understandably spooked, he tries to figure out if there's a way to remain friends with the girl who still taps on his wall at night. But the number of murders in the town is steadily growing, and there's a detective (Elias Koteas) putting all the facts together and getting close to discovering the killers' identity.

What Works?
Unlike most horror movies, the set-up, characters, and actual story (read: not special effects) are riveting. Owen's lonely, essentially-parentless plight would probably be very familiar to many young kids, as would his gnawing fear of bullies and his desire to keep his one real friend at all costs. Kodi Smit-McPhee is tremendous in the role, by turns endearing and heartbreaking, always convincing. Unlike many child/pre teen roles, it doesn't require a particularly showy performance, but Smit-McPhee makes a lasting impression. As does his co-star, Chloe Grace Moretz. I was so impressed by the young actress's work in last winter's Hugo that I've now seen several of her films, including this and Kick-Ass, which brought her onto the movie scene in a big way in the second half of 2010; she's now gearing up for a remake of Stephen King's Carrie. As with McPhee, she's here inhabiting an against-type child role: most young female roles are very flirtatious, very emotional, or very tragic, none of which apply here (okay, so, there is a lot of tragedy to Abby and her circumstances, but they're very different from those, say, AnnaSophia Robb or Dakota Fanning have endured onscreen). Moretz and Smit-McPhee have absolutely wonderful chemistry, and are truly endearing as a pair (one scene, an unusual sleepover in which Owen asks Abby if she'll go steady with him, is as beautiful and intimate a scene as I've seen in a while).

Not only is the acting solid, but the other aspects that normally make a good movie are all terrific. There are some world-class suspense sequences (one in particular might set a new bar for "Oh-my-gosh, oh-my-gosh" nail-biting tension), some unexpected twists, some searing, lasting images, and the soundtrack is sometimes noticeable but never distracting. This is also the rare movie that is the perfect length--while I wouldn't have complained about another scene or two in the company of these fine young actors, this 116-minute film did not feel a second too long or too short. Every single scene had something meaningful in it, and that is a truly rare feat.

What Doesn't Work?
To me, the only thing that didn't work were some of the horror elements. I don't mind the director and composer not trying to scare me every few minutes with loud BANGS and things jumping out of the dark, but some of the vampiric special effects reek of cheesy CGI, and, also, there are times when the cold-bloodedness of the "necessary" murders gets to you, particularly when you consider that a child's well-being is the reason they're being carried out. The actors are endearing enough to allow you to move forward, but there is some rough stuff here, and, unlike dozens of meaningless, forgettable deaths in other horror movies, they land with a gritty thud.

Content:
Let Me In probably can't compete with Freddy, Jason, Michael Myers or The Texas Chainsaw Massacre as far as blood, guts, and overall dismemberment goes, but this film is still very bloody. Most close-up images of wounds are disturbingly real, and you never forget the victims are human. There's also a handful of four-letter words and a brief shot of a topless woman, but, true to the horror type, the bloodletting is what brings home the R rating here.

Bottom Line (I Promise): Let Me In won't win many points with so-called "die-hard" horror fans because of its lack of spectacle, but it is an impressively meaningful and powerful motion picture, and how many horror movies can claim that? The two kids are tremendous, the writing and cinematography are handled deftly, and it contains more than a few moments you'll never forget. If you've got the stomach, this one may just be worth your time.

Let Me In (2010)
Directed by Mike Reeves
Written for the screen by Mike Reeves; based on the novel "Let The Right One In" by John Ajvide Lyndqvist
Rated R
Length: 116 minutes