class=”alignleft size-thumbnail wp-image-38189″ title=”Let Me In 6″ src=”https://www.heyuguys.com/images/2010/08/Let-Me-In-6-220×150.jpg” alt=”” width=”220″ height=”150″ />Remaking one of the most celebrated genre movies of recent years was always going to be a challenge. Winning a legion of fans, particularly among critics, Tomas Alfredson’s Let The Right One In is a remarkable film, and on hearing Matt Reeves was to follow Cloverfield with this adaptation I was sceptical.
English language remakes have much to overcome, remakes of popular films even more so. The misconception that they exist only to cater for those too lazy to read subtitles is a popular one, and not without a certain truth to it. But it is wrong to decry them all as pale imitations shoehorning known actors into often foreign parts to run through emotions and events second hand.
To write off remakes with a swipe of the hand is to devalue the work and success of the reanimators, and we can lose sight of what we are here to do – to enjoy (or not) a film on its own standards; not held up to comparison, but how it stands on its own.
So we arrive at the door of Matt Reeves’ take on John Ajvide Lindqvist’s Let The Right One In, and I found that comparison to the 2008 film was unavoidable, but not as damning as I thought.
Earlier this year, a little unfairly, I asked the two lead actors of the Swedish film what they thought of the planned English language remake and to their credit, and after a necessarily vague ‘Most remakes are crappy’ comment, they both said they’d wait and see. Luckily, Matt Reeves clearly knew what he was doing with Let Me In and has realised the potential to bring this story to a wider audience with the same emotional punch as the source material.
No matter if you think this venture panders to the subtitle averse, it’s a great story which is more than capable of being retold and adapted well. Mostly I was praying that he wouldn’t sully the original film; which, while I accept the argument, still exists to be discovered and enjoyed, might be tarnished by the association with an inferior copy.
The good news is that Matt Reeves sticks very close to the original film, and benefits from two amazing performances which, at times, made me question whether or not this was the better version of the story. I can’t deny there was a thrill when the Hammer logo appeared on screen and there are some truly unsettling scenes which play well against the charming and engaging childhood romance between Owen and Abby.
Walking The Road with Viggo Mortensen last year, Kodi Smit-McPhee is understated and sullen here as Owen, whose downtrodden existence briefly basks in the light Abby brings when she arrives late one night to live in the apartment next door. So begins an unlikely friendship between the two in a small town in the grip of a seemingly never ending winter. The arrival of Abby and her father has deadly ramifications for some of the townsfolk, and will change the life of the introverted Owen.
Chloe Moretz continues her welcome ubiquity with her role as Abby, whose real identity is given up in the trailers but she embodies this creature with the weight of dependence and naivety that is every bit as good as the performance of Lina Leandersson. She is haunted and curious, a controlled and menacing presence when she needs to be and is a key reason why this films works so well.
The adults in this movie don’t get much further than ‘incompetent teacher’ or ‘unsuspecting victim’ and as an example Owen’s Mother is a shadow in the film. Reeves never even shows her face except in the reflection of a window, blurred by distance or hidden beneath her arms as she sleeps off the ravages of her alcoholism. It’s a brave move asking two such young actors to carry the film but they do do brilliantly, with great heart and fierce talent. Key to their relationship is the strain and release of adolescence, to be dependent on adults while yearning to walk unaided and discover their stride in the world.
Reeves adds only a few gruesome shots to the film, mainly in the moments when Abby attacks, and this is a wise move. The much talked of car crash scene is expertly handled and throughout there were small details and subtleties which made me smile. Clearly Reeves knows what he’s doing, and understands the power of the original and also how to bring the story fresh to a new audience. Indeed, while I love the original film and knew more or less what was coming, I never missed it, or even thought to compare the two.
I was only taken out of the film when an unwelcome use of CG was thrown in, seemingly without cause and for a moment I worried this version had misunderstood the genuinely frightening premise of what appears to be a child carrying out these deeds. But these were momentary missteps and didn’t overshadow the film. Its triumph was in the performances, never mind the supernatural or murder mystery elements. It is a love story as tragic in its own way as the Shakespeare play Owen is studying at school and the two leads were exceptional, with Reeves seducing the audience into their friendship then twisting the knife with the final realisation as to the fate of the pair.
The moral complexity of the relationship between Owen and Abby is perfectly balanced between Owen’s emotional nakedness and complete desire for some kind of connection with Abby’s reluctant courting in order to stay alive. Let Me In is everything it needed to be. A genuinely affecting and emotionally engaging horror that wastes no time with extraneous additions; it doesn’t need to differentiate itself from the Swedish film and is all the stronger for it.
Surprisingly I’d happily recommend this to fans of the original, and to those who haven’t yet enjoyed the previous version. It is far distant from the littered wasteland of dire remakes and substandard rip offs which the horror genre has attracted of late. It succeeds not as a remake of a great film, it succeeds because it is a great film, and that’s the best I could have hoped for.
