Sparkling snow drifts down against a sky that fades from deep red on the left to fully black on the right. We see a 12-year-old boy, Oskar (Kåre Hedebrant), watching out the window, running through a "Taxi Driver"-like series of challenges ("you talking to me?"). He's mildly curious about a couple of people, a man and a girl his own age, who arrive at his apartment building late at night.
This is the understated, quiet opening of a movie that continues to be understated and quiet, with bursts of violence and occasional streaks of red blood on the white snow. "Let the Right One In" is a movie in a category few people ever wondered about--it's a Swedish horror movie. But it was a huge hit in Sweden (where the source novel by John Ajvide Lindqvist, who wrote the script) was also popular, and has done well around the world. The inevitable and unwelcome American remake was soon in the works.
But it's unlikely to match the haunting, ironic mood of the original. Director Tomas Alfredson shows a good deal of original thinking and clearly exerted strong control over the entire film. The performances, including those of the two children at the center of the story, are outstanding, and all of a type. The striking photography by Hoyte Van Hoytema is intensely composed, using the wide screen to great effect. It's a unified, controlled movie, not quite like anything else you've ever seen.
The scant extras reveal that the story is set in suburban Stockholm in 1982; apparently great care was taken to recreating the period setting, but to Americans, who know very little about Sweden, the story seems to be taking place today.
Young Oskar is the frequent target of bullies at his school; he's too intimidated to defend himself, but this is eating away at him. He lives with his mother; his father has a house in the country on a lake. Oskar visits there occasionally, but his father's lover--apparently Dad realized he was gay after Oskar was born--has no idea how to relate to a 12-year old boy, so he's isolated there, too.
In a long shot, we see a man confront another on a quiet, snowy street; he drugs the other man, then hangs him by his feet from a nearby tree. He begins draining the body of blood, but is scared off by a brave, standard-sized poodle (in the classic poodle cut). Elsewhere, Oskar meets his new neighbor (Lina Leandersson), who admits she's "around 12," but tells him they can't be friends. He notices that she's not dressed warmly.
Oskar collects newspaper clippings on wars and murders, including that odd one that happened nearby. Despite her earlier comment, the girl, whose name is Eli, meets him again, interested in the Rubik's cube she gives him.
There's another murder. One night, a friendly guy tries to help a girl under a bridge; she attacks him fiercely, biting him on the neck, draining his blood, then killing him by breaking his neck. We can't see who it is, but we know it must be Eli; the man from the road, who lives with her, drags the body to a nearby river, dumping it in where some hot drainage has melted a hole in the thick ice.
The story builds carefully and slowly, and very clearly; Alfredson is expert at doling out information, and on intercutting between various story segments. We see Oskar's encounters with Eli and his troubles with the bullies at school; Eli urges him to strike back, and he does--but this ends up causing him even more trouble. We also follow a group of slackers who hang out at a local Chinese restaurant, and get mildly plastered back at their apartments. One of their friends is an elderly cat fancier (which leads to an eerie scene later), who saw the girl attack their friend under the bridge. Two of the central figures here are Lacke (Peter Carlberg) and Virginia (Ika Nord), though we never know for sure if they're married or living together.
Slowly, Eli comes to trust Oskar, especially after he impulsively hugs her. But she leaves him a note: "To flee is life. To linger, death." We realize that she and her companion--was he once a boy like Oskar, attracted to the mysterious Eli?--have been traveling from location to location, hiding out for a while, while he harvests victims for her. If he doesn't bring back the blood, she has to attack people herself.
The movie is about Oskar's gradual sense of empowerment, but he really can't hold out against the bullies; the central one has an older brother who's even more sadistic. Eli tries to stay apart from all this, but she has her own problems--we discover what happens if she doesn't immediately kill the people whose blood she drains. The story of Oskar and the bullies, and Eli and her protector/companion, intersect twice, both times dramatically.
"Let the Right One In" is a handsome, stylish movie, so well-made it overcomes the tiresome central idea of vampires, surely the most overdone horror element available. The approach is unusual and dramatic, the cinematography striking, with many memorable images, but the most impressive and memorable elements are the personalities of Oskar and Eli and the carefully-chosen children who play them. They're so believable, so acceptable as these kids who have to make their own way in a quietly brutal world, that they're likely to linger in your memory.
The extras are scant: a few deleted scenes, a making-of documentary, a few stills, a few posters.
The sound isn't especially striking, though it's well done; there are no outstanding, showy uses of surround, though it's present throughout the film. Here, the greatest virtue is the high definition image; the crisp, crystal-clear wintry scenes are almost chilly, always handsome, sometimes beautiful. This is a remarkable movie.
Actors: Kåre Hedebrant, Lina Leandersson, Per Ragnar, Henrik Dahl, Karin Bergquist, Peter Carlberg, Ika Nord, Mikael Rahm, Karl-Robert Lindgren.
Director: Tomas Alfredson
Writer: John Ajvide Lindqvist
The sound is very good, and is in surround, but the movie doesn't make showy use of this element. Visually, it's a striking, attractive movie, making great use of wide screen.
Keywords: Hdebrant, Leandersson, Alfredson, vampires, horror, Swedish
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