Let Me In Review

by Matt



Remakes are tough. They're tough to make, and they're tough to watch. They have to strike a delicate balance between keeping true to the spirit of the original while at the same time bringing something new to the table (otherwise what's the point?). Fewer critics comment on this than on the difficulty of watching a remake and keeping an open mind. I certainly had difficulty with this when I saw Let Me In tonight.

I was ambivalent about the prospect of an American remake from the start. (Let the Right One In listed as an honorable mention for both mine and Jon's best films of the decade) Yet as I sat watching the unassuming opening titles (simple red text against a black screen), I started to feel at ease. Until the first thumps of the soundtrack.

Let Me In is clearly aiming at a more visceral experience than its Scandinavian predecessor, and I have to wonder if it gets in its own way at times. The score is loud, and the sound effects are abrupt. This is a huge departure from the original which quietly let the terrible realities speak for themselves.

Yet as the film went on, something happened. I stopped worrying about the original. I found myself swimming in Greig Fraser's gorgeous cinematography, reveling in the performances of Chloe Moretz and Kodi Smit-McPhee (two of the best child actors this side of Spielberg). Despite my misgivings about the soundtrack, I found myself being pulled in to the story. I was involved as if seeing the material for the first time.



This is a very good film, as good as one could've expected under the circumstances, but it's no masterpiece. As much as Reagan-era plays nicely off the morally ambiguous themes, the 80s music and references sometimes get a bit much. The sequences often felt a bit rushed, although editor Stan Salfas usually had the insight to let the individual shots linger (a rare treat).

There is one scene from the original which is as perfect as any I've ever seen and features one of the most terrifying shots in horror film history. (Those who have seen it should know the one I mean.) Reeves and Salfas took a different approach, using quick cuts and dull camera angles, completely killing its impact. I might've let this go, if it wasn't such a departure from the style of the entire rest of the film. I guess they were trying to emphasize the impact of this scene by this sudden aesthetic change, but it failed miserably.

Does it hold up to the original? Not by a long shot. Should that dissuade you from seeing it? Not by a long shot. Like a great cover song, it offers a fresh new perspective on familiar material, but let's face it. You can't beat the classics.