Those of you
who watched last week’s collaborative video review of the Twilight Saga may
have fallen under the impression that I hate vampires unconditionally. While
I’m certainly averse to bad writing (sorry Stephenie Meyer), and feel that
vampires have been grossly overrated and overdone in recent years, there are
still a handful of interpretations that I feel are worthy of recommendation.
Anne Rice, author of Interview with a Vampire, handled the mythical monsters
beautifully; as did Swedish novelist John Ajvide Lindqvist, author of today’s book,
Let the Right One In.
Author:
John Ajvide Lindqvist
Publisher: Quercus
Publication
Date: January 2004
Pages: 513
Genre: Horror, Drama
Summary
(from Goodreads):
But the murder is not the most important thing on his mind. A new girl has
moved in next door—a girl who has never seen a Rubik’s Cube before, but who can
solve it at once. There is something wrong with her, though, something odd. And
she only comes out at night....
Warning - contains spoilers: I’m just going to throw it out there right now that the synopsis provided
by Goodreads makes the book sound really lame. It’s not. Though it’s dark and,
at times, genuinely upsetting (are we noticing a theme with my posts?) it’s an
impeccably crafted story that possesses true originality.
Lindqvist paints a heartbreaking portrait of protagonist Oskar, a broken
twelve-year-old boy struggling to cope with his parents’ recent divorce and
merciless bullying at school. While his mother is physically present, he has no
allies, and so is immediately fascinated by the strange girl who moves in next
door. Spoiler alert; she’s a vampire. And unlike some vampires I could mention, she’s a legitimate threat.
Though the story of her transformation is never fully clarified, Eli is an
eternally adolescent girl forced to consume human blood to survive. Talk about
being dealt a rough hand. Her diet isn’t just a preference, nor can it be
avoided. If she abstains for too long she will die, and becomes violently ill
if she attempts to eat anything else. Because she doesn’t age, everyone she
grows to care for eventually dies, and because she’s prone to the clumsiness
and moodiness of infinite puberty (yikes), she cannot hunt her own victims lest
she leave a mess behind and get caught. Enter Håkan.
Håkan’s character is such a raging, disturbing bummer. Especially when we realize that
he’s a reflection of what Oskar will inevitably become.
Drawn to Eli as a lonely adolescent, Håkan ran away to be with her. He developed a science
for murder that guarantees both Eli's anonymity, and her
dependence on him. Because she is, quite literally, the only “person” in his life, he has strong
feelings for her; feelings that are wildly inappropriate when he enters middle
age. He’s increasingly jealous of the little boy next door, and has no choice
but to continue bringing Eli fresh blood in the hope of winning her affections. He becomes sloppy as tensions grow, and is eventually arrested for murder. He later
(before any trial can begin) offers himself as a meal to Eli to ensure that he
never sells her out. It’s soon after Håkan’s death, and a brush with death of his own,
that Oskar runs away with Eli to begin the horribly depressing cycle all over
again.
Contrary to the sparkly allure, hormonal infatuation, and convenient “vegetarianism”
of other vampires (and those that
they attract), the characters of Let the Right One In are drawn together
through mutual, desperate loneliness. It’s one of those stories in which even
the villains are so complex that they almost don’t exist. The wrongdoers, like Oskar’s
incomprehensibly harmful bullies, only do wrong out of their own desperation.
…Be prepared to cry.
The Pros: This book
boasts a masterful story arc as well as immaculate character development, and
the frequent, flawless execution of metaphor and foreshadowing. It’s also the
most “realistic” vampire story I’ve ever read, as though Lindqvist catalogued
all possible conflicts and dramas that could arise from the presence of
vampires in our world before he ever started writing. Beautifully done.
The Cons: This book also
contains several gratuitous scenes depicting pedophilic violence that I feel in
no way enhanced or reinforced the story. The only purpose they serve is to
disturb the reader, and so I found them offensive and gimmicky.
Let the Right One In was first adapted to film by Swedish director Tomas Alfredson in 2008. I happened upon it on
Netflix on a day when I had nothing going on, and decided on a whim to watch
it. This was before I’d read the book or even knew it was adapted from a novel,
but I immediately fell in love. As soon as the credits rolled I was on my
computer researching the story, and checked the book out at the library the
next day.
It’s rare to find a horror movie that can also move me to tears, but Let
the Right One In did just that. I was simultaneously frightened by, and felt an
insatiable need to rescue, every character.
Because John Ajvide Lindqvist, author of the book, also wrote the
screenplay, the film was incredibly true to the novel, and didn’t go overboard
with the stereotypical devices of horror film. There was no over-the-top
makeup, manipulative music, or scream-inducing monsters jumping out from
shadows. And despite 90% of the film falling on the shoulders of child actors,
it was surprisingly genuine. Kåre Hedebrant (Oskar), and Lina Leandersson (Eli) were amazing in their roles, despite each only being twelve years old at
the beginning of filming.
This movie is deliberate, quietly unsettling, and to be frank, perfect.
An American
remake called Let Me In was released in 2010 by director Matt Reeves (Cloverfield). When I found out
this was in production, I flipped my proverbial s*** and immediately began
bugging my husband to take me on opening night.
While Let Me In was not as true to the book as the original film-adaptation (and didn’t exactly clean up at the box-office) I felt it was a great effort. Cinematically speaking, there was a particular, single-shot scene that just freaking blew my mind. Without giving too much away; “car accident.” Watch and wait.
While Let Me In was not as true to the book as the original film-adaptation (and didn’t exactly clean up at the box-office) I felt it was a great effort. Cinematically speaking, there was a particular, single-shot scene that just freaking blew my mind. Without giving too much away; “car accident.” Watch and wait.
I think it’s safe to say that Let Me In is more based on the original film
than the book itself, and alters a handful of very basic things. The characters
Oskar and Eli, now played by Kodi Smit-McPhee and Chloë Grace Moretz, were changed to the more
generic names “Owen” and “Abby.” I think this was to solidify the notion that
these children could theoretically be anyone. And that’s really the genius of
this story; the suggestion that there is danger where you absolutely least
expect it. It’s a shockingly cerebral story that sticks with you long after
it’s over.
This film is beautifully shot and acted – again by exceptionally talented
young actors that we would do well to watch out for in the future. The only
real qualm I have with Let Me In is that it is
more of a stereotypical horror film. There are several points in the movie when Moretz (Abby) looks positively
nightmarish. The use of freaky contacts, prosthetics, makeup, and buckets of
fake blood do detract a bit from the
story. I wouldn’t say that made me love it less, but it did make me love it in
a completely different way.
Abby...you're not looking well. |
If you’re interested in reading the book, or adding either movie to your
collection, all three can be purchased via the links below.
Thanks for tuning in!
Thanks for tuning in!
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