Day 79: Let the Right One In

"Please Oskar... Be me, for a little while."

How has pop culture evolved to the point that there is an overwhelming obsession with vampires? It just seemed out of nowhere that films, television, and even music to a point, has embraced one of the oldest monster legends. Of course there is a new incarnation of what a vampire is. They’re overtly sexual, filled with enough teen angst to drive a shopping mall full of teenage girls crazy, and they’re unbelievably built like Abercrombie and Fitch models. I’ll admit there is something sexual about vampires in general, but instead of using vampires as tools for asking questions about eternal life and dwelling uncontrollable urges, they’re used as devices to get hormones raging. This is not say that there hasn’t been some redeeming vampire based entertainment, but there have been nearly none that have pushed the boundaries these monsters are known to push. That’s assuming you haven’t heard of the excellent Swedish film “Let the Right One In”. Upon its release, “Let the Right One In” was a critical darling that saw very little action here domestically. Slowly, but surely it began to gain a cult following amongst those who were willing to give it a chance despite it being a vampire film that didn’t feature Robert Pattinson or Tyler Lautner gazing at one another with their shirts off.

What we have is an extremely well shot film that tells the tale of a 12 year old boy confiding in , and eventually falling in love with, a female vampire who’s perpetually stuck in the body of a 12 year old. The 12 year old boy in question is Oskar, an only child living with his mother in a suburb of Stockholm circa 1982. Oskar is quite lonely as his habits tend to push him away from his fellow classmates. One of his hobbies consists of cutting out articles regarding murders. His constant state of isolation is made worse though when he’s feverishly hounded by bullies at his school with no remorse. Harassment ultimately leads Oskar to dream up tales of revenge, some of which consist of him pounding a knife viciously into a tree almost as if the tree was the one deprecating him. Things change for Oskar though when Eli moves into the apartment next to him. Eli, sporting a pale skin and cold touch, looks like just about every other girl you’d find in the snowbound Sweden. Within Oskar though, she see’s somebody who’s just as lonely as she is. As alluded to earlier, Eli is a vampire. Because Eli has the unfortunate benefit of being allergic to the sun, and abilities that would raise suspicion among the locals,  she has a caretaker that goes around town killing townsfolk as a means to gaining sustenance for her blood thirst. Despite this and Oskar’s lack of knowing what Eli really is, the two develop a relationship that’s initially akin to a mutual understanding, but develops into a relationship of stability and release from the world they live in.

They’re without a doubt on the same wavelength, which is romantically emphasized in their form of communication: tapping Morse Code to one another through their apartment walls. As archaic and well known as this form of communication is, it’s invariably lost in time to the point that it feels like their own language. All of this is accomplished despite their opinions on violence.  Eli views killing a person as an act of survival and need, where Oskar's dream of stabbing his bullies is merely a temptation; a want. Through this difference, Eli empowers Oskar to stand up to his bullies in a more practical way. As their relationship develops and deepens, turns of events threaten to take them from one another. What ensues amongst the foreboding Sweden winter wonderland is a collection of loss, blood splattering, and otherworldly events that is majestically heightened amongst director Tomas Alfredson’s lush visual palette. Without a doubt, there are elements of high tension that can drive up one’s anxiety, but Alfredson knows that the core of the film rests on the relationship these desolate souls develop between one another. From a tender scene with a Rubrik's Cube to a compassionate hug framed within a narrow hallway, Alfredson makes us buy completely into these two striking up a blooming relationship. With this, Alfredson runs us through the ringer and delivers an ending that would otherwise fall flat if it wasn’t for the depth that is installed in his two lost characters.

Not to mention, the film possesses a rather interesting undertow about the lonely world a child can be found in. Whether it be social issues or merely children being children, there is an assortment of children who are renounced from the rest of their age group. Oskar not only represents this, but so does Eli as she is not only prohibited from living a normal childhood, but she’s constantly on the move. You can call them a match made in Heaven (or in Hell), but they’re certainly a combination that we give a damn about despite how alienating Oskar can be and how vicious Eli can become. What a different route for a vampire film, or any other horror film for that matter, to take. Usually in this genre  characters are merely present to die, have sex, or run their way into a sequel. They’re nothing more, nothing less. Thankfully Alfredson’s willingness to slap the shit out of the modern vampire helps fuel the film into something we’ve truly never seen before. He has crafted a vampire tale that has the innocence and interest that stems from a childhood bond, yet has the courage to handle the subject matter with an adult’s all knowing eye. It’s a vision that is focused and unrestrained in its depiction of growing up. If only more movies like this weren’t overlooked so often.