As I can be kind of stubborn toward particular films that get heaps of praise from every conceivable angle (let's admit: the hype factor can saturate even a niche conscience to the point where interest is decreased as a result), it took me a good long while to get around to watching "Let the Right One In," the Norwegian vampire saga that is as interested in the fragility of children's relationships as it is in subverting conventional cinematic standards of the vampire mythos. In the end, I was converted into -- and still am -- a true believer in its greatness. The Americanization of foreign films has always been a tricky prospect (even in the decades preceding Hollywood's current infatuation with recycling), synonymous with "dumbing down" a concept for the sake of placating the impatient masses (and their notorious intolerance of subtitles). There is a lot to admire about "Let Me In," Matt Reeves' faithful U.S. transplant: the moody score is fantastic; the performances by Chloe Moretz ("Kick-Ass") and Kodi Smit-McPhee ("The Road") are delicately heartbreaking; and the sparing use of CG allows a quiet, simple story of childhood camaraderie (paradoxically complicated by the extraneous factors -- absentee parents, religious tension, schoolyard bullies, puberty -- that make a child's life complex) to take precedence above all else. Reeves deserves an accolade for resisting the urge to transform the film into a surround-sound, jump-scare-happy headache of the Platinum Dunes sort, instead challenging the viewer to something more subtle and deliberate. Where he falters, however, is in making the strong setpieces of the original (particularly the climactic "pool scene") truly his own -- there just isn't enough creativity or divergence present to reconfigure these now-classic moments into something that will impress those who have seen "Let the Right One In." Still, "Let Me In" coasts on a uniquely moody energy that makes it worth a look on its own terms.
6.5 out of 10
6.5 out of 10