Let Me In is a movie that defies genre; it's highly original -- even if it is based on a novel by John Ajvide Lindqvist and is a remake/retake on
the
2008 Swedish film Let the Right One In -- but it's completely unfair to label it as one thing or
another, and "Horror" is certainly not appropriate. "Horror" implies fear, but there's nothing to be afraid of in Let Me In, at least for those
viewers who find themselves on the "side" of the two child leads -- in other words, most every viewer. The film certainly plays with Horror
elements, but at its core Let Me In is much more. It's a story of friendship, acceptance, and self-worth, but through those positive messages
lies a downright grisly story about sacrifice, Vampirism, and murder. Genres seem almost inconsequential to a movie like this; labels only get in the
way and create false perceptions that will inevitably pull in and draw away potential viewers, some of whom will be disappointed with the end result,
others of whom will be missing out on a positively incredible cinematic experience. For the violence and darkness that define much of Let Me
In from a thematic and visual perspective, there's an underlying tenderness that counterbalances the film's more traditional Vampire stylings in
favor of an honest, almost feel-good core, even if the film is awash in brutal violence and plenty of difficult scenes that will challenge viewers to decide
whether the film is a darkly-clad tale of endurance, friendship, and self-preservation, or a grisly story of unwarranted death and confused identities.
Most every shot is moody and perfectly framed.
Owen (Kodi Smit-McPhee, The Road) is a troubled young man who comes from a broken home
and finds himself serving as an unwilling punching bag for the bigger kids at school. Owen takes his punishment and never fights back, but his fate
is about to change
when a mysterious new neighbor moves into his complex. Abby (Chloe Moretz) is herself a troubled young child who's different in many ways, not
the
least of which is the way she goes barefoot even in frigid temperatures and with several inches of snow on the ground. Abby warns Owen that the
two cannot be friends for reasons she does not share and Owen would not want to hear, but the young man persists until the two form an
unbreakable bond that runs deeper than their personal troubles and the blood that flows through their veins. With Abby's help, Owen learns how to
stand up for himself, for better or for worse. Meanwhile, Abby's secrets are slowly revealed to Owen. Locals begin turning up dead, and Abby's
caregiver (Richard Jenkins, The Visitor) seems to be in the middle of the new string of trouble
around town. The deaths also grab the attention of a local detective (Elias Koteas, The Thin Red Line) who will see and experience things in his search
for answers that will forever change his life.
Let it be said up front that Let Me In is a deliberately-paced movie; in other words, that's code for "slow." But don't take that as a negative,
at
least in this case. Let Me In is one of those rare pictures where its occasionally sluggish pacing is an asset. It allows the characters to
become
fully developed, the plot to be completely realized, and provides ample time for viewers to discern the critical and nuanced elements of the story
alike,
both of which will prove crucial to one's ultimate perception of whether this is a feel-good movie or a disgusting and violent romp that's exploitative
and
grotesque. It's the former, though -- a movie that bends and breaks "genre" convention by highlighting a unique relationship between a creature of
the night and an innocent child and the bonds they form, bonds of not only friendship but protection no matter the cost -- that seems the true
identity
of Let Me In, and contextually, that's highly unique and praiseworthy to no end. That a film can take traditionally dark and devious
elements
but mold them into something that's almost the antithesis -- a feel-good story the kind of which is almost exclusively reserved for tearjerking
Dramas
-- of that traditional "genre" structure is enough to gain the film the attention it deserves, but Let Me In is not exclusively a product of its
original
blending of themes, story lines, and emotions. No, there's a wonderfully complete movie here, the likes of which seem all too rare anymore. It's a
throwback noir-style picture that's as visually complex as it is thematically involved and emotionally draining. Movies of this nature seem the
domain of bygone
generations where craft, story, and smarts were more important than the bottom line, when audiences were assumed to be smart and demanding
of
something more than what passes for mainstream cinema in 2011.
Let Me In ultimately boils down to its core relationship, that between the Vampire Abby and the human boy Owen. This is a story about
friendship, one that espouses not only the core values of friendship but that highlights what can become a rare and ultimately life-defining
partnership that goes beyond familiarity and enters into some ethereal domain reserved exclusively for the most sincere, trusting, and unbreakable
kinship that runs deeper than blood and more robust than even romance. The film works because the characters seem like kindred spirits, two souls
of grossly varied backgrounds but who search for the same thing in life: acceptance. Abby is a Vampire, forced to live in the shadows, consume
only the blood of others, and rely on a guardian who defends her identity and feeds her cravings, no matter the personal cost. Richard Jenkins's
character is appropriately dubbed only "The Father." A provider, a caregiver, a man whose love knows no bounds, he's both an Earthly father
replacement and someone who takes on a greater spiritual sense, not necessarily God but certainly a guardian angel of sorts who protects and
physically and emotionally feeds Abby. Nevertheless and despite the presence of a caregiver, Abby is a loner in the world, a girl certainly capable of
taking care of herself -- though that usually means taking a life as her physical needs or her Vampiric state dictate -- but who is nevertheless in need
of another person who can offer her
acceptance and understanding that she can reciprocate. She finds that person in Owen, a boy suffering from many of the same afflictions as Abby
but who is nevertheless her antithesis in terms of
physical strength and resolve. Bullied, beaten, and one not to stand up for himself, Owen learns through Abby to toughen up, but he takes
his newfound self-confidence too far and ultimately can't shake the odds that are stacked against him. In one another, Owen and Abby discover
who they are and who they want to be, Abby a normal person capable of genuine feeling and emotions who can lead a traditional life and Owen a girl
who shows him what it means to be alive, even if she is in, in a manner of speaking, dead.
Finally, Let Me In is a stunning technical achievement that uses its supportive elements -- visuals, music, cinematography, acting -- to
enhance the story and round it into shape, a shape that ultimately sees the movie as one of 2010's finest not only in terms of its structural
elements but its genre-breaking and tradition-bending story. The performances of Let Me In are nothing short of spectacular. Kodi
Smit-McPhee dazzled as a confused and somewhat lost soul in The Road, and he's the perfect fit to play a similar character in Let Me
In. He has an uncanny natural ability to play a role with equal parts innocence and awe at the world around him, as a child with deep-rooted
inner feelings that are somehow, someway, or for some reason beyond his control kept in check and never allowed to come out and fully define who
he is. Kodi Smit-McPhee is a phenomenal young talent who's made two already exemplary films into masterpieces of the dark and uncertain but has
a bright and assured future ahead. Chloe Moretz is also exceptional, handling her complex character with confidence; hers is an infinitely challenging
part and the young actress pulls it off with ease by somehow juggling the always-on-the-precipice dark side with her desire to be a normal
adolescent girl. Together, Moretz and Smit-McPhee make for a dynamic pairing that forms the center of the film both through their performances
and
understanding of the challenges of the characters they play. Matt Reeves has also created a fantastic atmosphere for Let Me In.
Superficially it may look like just another trite pairing of a Vampire story with a cold and dreary façade, but there's so much more to the film's look
than just, well, a look. It's about mood, about reinforcing the character dynamics, about developing the plot beyond words and actions. It's
a necessary look in a film like this, and alongside the film's deliberate pacing, the overbearing darkness rounds the film into a shape that takes hold
deep inside the viewer and never relents until the end. Are there any faults? Let Me In sports a few misfire special effects shots, but
otherwise, there's not much room for complaint. The special effects are secondary to the story and feel of Let Me In, fleeting supportive
elements that advance the plot but don't define it. Otherwise, this is one rock-solid movie that's about as good as movies get.
Let Me In is by its nature somewhat soft and incredibly dark. Anchor Bay's Blu-ray release appears faithful to the film's intended visual scheme.
As a result, it's not the most intricately detailed or abundantly colorful image out there, though the film's handful of brighter scenes do manage
to produce some strong clothing details, crisp definition, and solid colors. Even in its darker moments, Let Me In produces a handsome film-like
texture that's accentuated by a hint of grain. Black levels can be inky solid or slightly murky; they're rarely perfect but hardly ever messy, fortunately
falling somewhere close to the top end rather than the bottom. Skin tones often take on a slightly pale appearance, no doubt a product of the soft
lighting and excessive darkness and not a fault of the Blu-ray transfer. Minor banding is evident in a few scenes, but this is otherwise a proficient
transfer that's not the sort that's designed to serve as eye candy, but its apparent faithfulness to the picture's original intent is its strong suit.
Let Me In features a reserved soundtrack that lets loose with energy at specific points throughout the track. Much like the film it accompanies,
the track is moody and audibly soft until it springs into action to support some wonderful atmospherics or deadly action sound effects. Bass could stand
to be a bit tighter in a few instances, but it's generally rumbly and deep without playing as too sloppy or undefined. Music drifts nicely through the stage,
whether era-specific pop songs or score, while general atmospherics bring some much-needed nuance to the experience to round it into form. Indeed,
whether a cold, gusty wind or screams that reverberate through a gymnasium and, in effect, the listening area, the track makes full use of the 5.1
configuration and does well to create varied but critical environments that only add to the quality of the film. More potent and energy-dependent effects
work well, too; a train zips across the soundstage in one scene, and the film's final minutes spring to life with sounds of terror and agony and uncertainty
and the unknown and the supernatural, and then, quiet and life. It's an amazing sequence in the context of the film and the specifics of the on-screen
locale in which it occurs. Rounded out by superior dialogue reproduction -- from the highest-pitched screams to the most subtle whispers -- Anchor Bay's
lossless soundtrack for Let Me In is an unequivocal winner.
Let Me In features a fine assortment of bonus materials; there's pretty much a little bit of everything here, including a commentary track, a
PiP experience, a few featurettes, trailers, a still gallery, and even a digital copy for on-the-go viewing.
Audio Commentary: Director/Writer Matt Reeves covers a lot of ground in short order, speaking on his fear of remaking an already great
new movie, the picture's tone, its score and the inclusion of popular music, the themes and how the characters define them, his research for the
project, the process of shooting
particular scenes, the quality of the performances, and much more. It sounds like a fairly standard commentary roster, but Reeves manages to give it
a fresh and invigorating feel, no doubt helped by the quality of the film he's discussing. Fans will definitely want to find two hours to spend with this
track.
From the Inside: A Look at the Making of Let Me In (1080p, 17:04): A solid all-around making-of piece that explores not only
the making of the film -- the shooting locales, the film's visuals and mood, the casting process, and special effects -- but the history of the story and
the meaning behind it. Cast and crew passionately recount their experiences and thoughts about the entirety of the film and eschew the typical
"must sell the movie" sort of generic feel. If only more "making of" featurettes were as good as this, but then again much of the quality stems from
the
power of the film being discussed.
The Art of Special Effects (1080p, 6:29): A focused look at the making of the film's special effects, covering various scenes in different
stages of completion. The piece eschews voiceover narration in favor of simply showing the scenes as they go through the digital process.
Car Crash Sequence Step-By-Step (1080p, 5:34): An in-depth look at the process of making the film's unique car crash scene. This
piece features voiceover narration, stills from the set, computer animatics, and more.
Picture-in-Picture Exclusive: Dissecting Let Me In (1080p): A secondary window appears from time to time (not often enough,
fans will think) to primarily show cast and crew discussing the film. Much of the material repeats from the standalone featurettes.
Deleted Scenes (480p/1080p, 5:05): Solving the Puzzle, Reaching Out, and Be Me (1080p) with optional
Writer/Director commentary.
Trailer Gallery (1080p): Greenband Trailer (2:22) and Redband Trailer (2:27).
Poster & Still Gallery (1080p).
Also on Blu-ray (1080p): Additional Anchor Bay titles.
Digital Copy: Sampled on an iPhone 4, viewers will find a quality video presentation that yields good details and handles the film's cold
and dark color palette well. Audio is typically tinny and sound effects rather crunchy; even the dazzling end sequence lacks much authority, space, or
clarity, but that's to be expected. It's certainly good enough to help kill a few hours on a long flight.
Let Me In is a dazzling picture of the dark and macabre but also of the bonds of friendship, true friendship that transcends even physical form.
It's a film of survival and self-worth, about seeing past the exterior and finding the good inside, even if, for whatever reason, it's cloaked and rendered
unseen by those with only a one-dimensional approach to life. There are so many good things about Let Me In -- the fantastic story, superb
acting, and a wonderful mood -- but it's ultimately how the film meshes a tender core with a dark and foreboding façade that makes it work so well. One
of
2010's best earns a high-quality Blu-ray release from Anchor Bay. A strong technical presentation and a fine assortment of extra content round this disc
into form as a must-own Blu-ray. Highly recommended.
When Disney first announced that they would begin releasing some classic animated features outside of the Diamond Series, Blu-ray fans were ecstatic that they would soon be seeing their favorite animated films at a higher frequency in high definition but were unsure ...
Anchor Bay Home Entertainment has announced Let Me In for Blu-ray release on February 1, 2011. This English-language remake of the Swedish horror thriller Let The Right One In, directed by Matt Reeves (Cloverfield), stars Kodi Smit-McPhee (The Road) and Chloë Moretz ...
