Entertaining, unusually affecting genre bender

An assuringly unique and refreshing vampire story from Sweden, Let the Right One In is a motion picture of extraordinary mood and imaginative directorial potency. Instead of a customary genre feature, this Swedish sleeper is in fact a hushed, gentle tale of provisional friendship, the ordeal of adolescence and the curse of vampiric immortality. A spellbinding motion picture from start to finish, Let the Right One In is a marvel; an ingenious horror film able to frighten and disarm in the same instant, and one of the most resonant, haunting cinematic experiences of 2008. And it has already been targeted for a Hollywood remake...

During 2008, movie-goers greeted two similar vampire movies, both of which partly focused on adolescent love but each with a different marketing strategy. Twilight, based on Stephanie Meyer's best-selling novel, takes the simple approach - aiming to entice a teenage audience with a hackneyed romance parable featuring one-dimensional, condescending characters merely required to look pretty. Let the Right One In (also based on a novel) by contrast targets a mature audience with a deep, amazingly original coming-of-age tale about a prepubescent child's love for a member of the undead. Forget the disposable Twilight...in ten years, this Swedish feature will be remembered as the real deal (and the right one, if you will).

Written by John Ajvide Lindqvist (adapting his own novel), this film tells an absorbing tale which transpires in Stockholm during the 1980s and which centres on a morbid child named Oskar (Hedebrandt). Bullied unremittingly at school, Oskar is a socially and emotionally withdrawn boy who spends his free time collecting and reading newspaper articles about murders. Things take an uplifting turn for Oskar one night when he meets an enigmatic young girl named Eli (Leandersson), who is in fact a carnivorous vampire. Oskar is oblivious to Eli's blood-drinking habits, but he's perfectly happy to overlook her peculiar behaviour as the two tweens strike up a hesitant friendship. They playfully communicate and bond, eventually clinging to each other in the hope of staving off their crushing social isolation.

Let the Right One In is no standard horror-fest; it has greater ambitions. The vampire subplot lurks in the shadows while the film conveys a story about the camaraderie and empathy that develops between two of society's misfits. And this isn't an overblown, melodramatic romance - there are elements of a burgeoning love story, but they are tentative and lacking overt sexuality. The film isn't endowed with the cheesy gothic romance of Stephanie Meyer's Twilight series or the humour of Buffy the Vampire Slayer (and its offspring). Let the Right One In alternatively strikes a low-key melancholy tone, bolstered by both the location and the effective de-dramatised approach. Admirably, the feature doesn't beat a viewer over the head with Eli's history and it only permits brief glimpses stemming from vampire lore. Not only does this aspect make the film intriguing, but it becomes easier for us to lose ourselves within the story.

Rest assured that Let the Right One In doesn't leave out the genre elements, though...it contains a fair amount of violent blood-draining scenes. Blood looks good on the Swedish snowscape, and the instances of horror violence are nearly as impressive as the subtler moments. A miscalculated ending is one of the movie's sole drawbacks - it's a gory, competently-handled vampire attack let down by its clichéd nature.
Unlike what you'd expect in a Hollywood vampire movie, at no stage does Oskar research the details of vampiric etiquette as it simply isn't necessary. Everyone knows the basic powers and limitations of vampires, and the creators are intelligent enough to realise this. Eli's brand of vampire adheres to a lot of the ground rules established in Bram Stoker's Dracula. We never learn whether a stake through the heart will kill Eli or whether she can transform into a bat, however - there are no opportunities to test such myths. The brilliance of Let the Right One In is that events and scenes serve the story and characters, with no scenes included merely to exploit vampiric abilities (unlike Twilight). But there are minor flaws in pacing, with a bit too much time spent with some of the locals who become Eli's supper.

Director Tomas Alfredson accomplishes lots through images and sound, and he very rarely relies on dialogue. The cinematography is extraordinary; each frame is a work of art and the stylish camera angles quietly ensnare a viewer. Alfredson renders the crisp stillness of a Swedish winter nicely, letting the landscape evoke a multiplicity of feelings. Let the Right One In is consumed with mood; it's filled with long takes and features action staged around stark snowscapes which is photographed with brilliant menace by cinematographer Hoyte Van Hoytema. The camera moves languidly; observing but never intruding, and only moving in close to capture moments of vulnerability.

The camerawork also adds to the mystery. Shadows conceal objects and characters until the exact moment we're required to see them, for example, which allows for amplified shocks. There's a great deal of mystery to be explored in Let the Right One In, and it progresses without feeling the need to explain everything - gruelling explication and back-story is virtually non-existent (such things will no doubt accompany the American remake). With sparse dialogue, Alfredson skilfully refrains from answering some of our questions. For instance, who is the older man travelling with Eli and what is their relationship? Why does Eli continually insinuate that she isn't a girl? Why are Oskar and his father so distant? Apparently some of these questions are answered in the novel, but Alfredson (and screenwriter Lindqvist) show great judgment by omitting these answers. With their exclusion, the ending can either be perceived as happy or tragic.

The relationship between Oskar and Eli is another aspect communicated without many words. Alfredson instead employs gorgeous, soft-focus close-ups in addition to Johan Söderqvist's delicate romantic score to convey the developing intimacy. He's also aided (in no small degree) by great performances from first-time actors Kåre Hedebrandt and Lina Leandersson. Hedebrant, with his blonde hair and pale skin, is an excellent Oskar. He exudes pure innocence and looks the part of a societal outcast while also making the character seem remote, withdrawn and a tad creepy. Alongside him, Leandersson possesses an alluring charisma and comes across as an individual both mysterious and compelling. She's a standout in the challenging part of Eli, capturing both the weariness of an ancient vampire and the sweet vulnerability of a young girl. Unlike Tom Cruise or Brad Pitt, her vampire portrayal is smelly and grotty, and with the awkwardness of a pre-teen. These two leading performances give Let the Right One In true heart...something beyond the fangs and wooden stakes that usually define the genre.

Grotesque, unnervingly gentle, delicately forbidding and ethereal, Let the Right One In manages to reenergise modern vampire cinema. This Swedish masterpiece observes naïve sensuality involving pre-teens, treats death with a frightening visual poetry, and is directed with superb tonal control by Alfredson. Let the Right One In can technically be classified as a horror movie, but it's more of a coming-of-age story. The blood and gore isn't excessive as director Alfredson is more interested in touching emotional chords. The story unfolds gradually and this slow pace may prove maddening for some viewers, but this rare blend of art house and horror is both entertaining and unusually affecting.

8.2/10