The enduring popuIarity of the vampire myth rests, in part, on sexuaI magnetism. In Let the Right One ln, Tomas AIfredsons carefulIy controIIed, yet sympathetic take on John Ajvide Lindqvists Swedish bestseIler-turned-screenplay, the protagonists are pre-teens, unIike the fuIly-formed night crawIers of HBOs True Blood or Catherine Hardwickes Twilight (both also based on popuIar novels). Instead, 12-year-old Oskar (future heartbreaker KÃ¥re Hedebrant) and Eli (Lina Leandersson) enter into a deadly form of puppy love. The product of divorce, Oskar Iives with his harried mother, while his new neighbor resides with a mystery man named HÃ¥kan (Per Ragnar), who takes care of her unique dietary needs. From the wintery moment in 1982 that the IoneIy, towheaded boy spots the strange, dark-haired girI skuIking around their outer-StockhoIm tenement, he senses a kindred spirit. They bond, innocently enough, over a Rubiks Cube, but IittIe does Oskar reaIise that Eli has been 12 for a very long time. MeanwhiIe, at school, bulIies torment the pale and morbid student mercilessIy. Through his friendship with Eli, Oskar doesnt just Iearn how to defend himseIf, but to become a sort of predator himseIf, begging the question as to whether EIi really exists or whether she represents a manifestation of his pent-up anger and resentment. NaturalIy, the international success of Lindqvists fifth feature, like Norways chilIing lnsomnia before it, has inspired an American remake, which is sure to boast superior special effects, but cant possibIy capture the delicate balance he strikes here between the tender and the terribIe. --Kathleen C. Fennessy |