Let the Right One In

Vampire stories have always had a strong sense of physicality. There is undoubtedly something in the pivotal role played by the most vital of bodily fluids that accounts for this. This Swedish take on the genre is no exception in this regard. It is stylish and assured, with high standards of quality control on the production side and an engaging story that flows at a relaxed pace.

The action takes place in the 1980s, in a snow-covered Swedish town, where the temperatures are cold enough to freeze lakes and rivers. Although the setting relatively unusual for a vampire story, many standard elements are present, as the title might suggest, including the fatal reaction to sunlight, the all-consuming blood lust, the arrested aging process. In the vampire’s appearance, her dusky complexion contrasting to the more traditional image of the Scandinavian, there is also perhaps a nod to the Vampire’s (with a capital ‘V’) traditional origin in Transylvania. By contrast, Oskar, the object of her affections, an inhabitant in the town to which she has recently arrived, is more readily placed as hailing from the northern latitudes: pale skin to the point of being anaemic, and straw blonde hair. Much is made of the physical presence of these two, and the many close-ups in which their faces fill the screen make the most of their striking features, sometimes enhanced with special effects. (Special effects are used sparingly throughout, but are well executed and to good effect).

Despite the supernatural milieu, the morality of LTROI is very real, almost uncomfortably so. We have the classic horror theme of a socially isolated put-upon individual achieving an improvement in their situation as a result of an intervention from the dark side. Vampires are quintessentially parasites, and this is made very clear here, it is perhaps the film’s overarching theme. This aspect is really nicely played with, and this is where some of the more uncomfortable questions, and their unsettling answers, about manipulation and the give-and-take implicit in the contracts that are human relationships, are aired.

Aside from the obvious suspension of disbelief that the genre requires, the plot itself doesn’t exactly tie together, particularly at the conclusion, but we don’t mind because it’s fine, more than fine, insofar as it goes, and also probably because we have been living in these characters’ pockets for the previous two hours, and everyone has something inside them that will go along with a story where the weak are empowered. The unanswered question, as to whether the price paid for this empowerment is too high, is left for the audience to decide.

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