The Week in Reviews

Let the Right One In

Scandinavia is often associated with dark and macabre films. One publication, Nordic Reach, recently published an article titled, “Sad Scandinavian Cinema...the depressing director syndrome.” Detailing the tendency of exported Scandinavian films to be overly dark, the article used terms like “promised- land- of sad- cinema” and “gloomy, humorless productions.” After a long debate, it still remains unclear which of the five Scandinavian countries produces the most downhearted films.

Let the Right One In, based on a novel by John Ajvide Lindqvists, aptly fits this stereotype. The movie takes place in a suburb of Stockholm, Sweden during the particularly cold and dark February of 1981. The protagonist Oskar (Kåre Hedebrant) is a 12-year-old boy living with his single mother, miles away from his alcoholic father, and constantly harassed by bullies at school. The first scene shows Oskar in his bedroom at night, wearing nothing but briefs and wielding a small knife, practicing his rebellion against the school bullies. “Squeal like a pig!” he screams. At this point, the movie seems a fitting addition to the dark Scandinavian tradition.

The core of the film is located in the touching yet complicated relationship that develops between Oskar and Eli (Lina Leandersson), his new neighbor. Both are outcasts who find much-needed companionship in each other and, as the film unfolds, Oskar gradually falls in love with Eli. As this storyline develops, it seems that things may be looking up for Oskar.

But their relationship is suddenly complicated in one scene, which features Eli’s presumed guardian savagely killing an innocent man, hanging him from a tree and draining his blood. It soon becomes clear that Eli is a vampire. While American movies featuring pre-pubescent boys as the main characters typically also involve a sidekick pet or a portal into another world, Let the Right One In gives much more depth and believability to its characters. Though essentially a vampire tale, it retains a strong hold on reality. The internal struggle experienced by Eli is quite compelling, as she tries to push Oskar away in order to shield him from her disconcerting identity while she still remains drawn to him.

Throughout her life as a vampire, Eli has managed not to get attached to anyone. Her sole companion is an old man. Although it is never revealed what relation he has to her, it is clear that he is willing to do anything for her. Refusing to impose the life of a vampire on innocent victims, Eli gets her fix from the blood of victims murdered by her companion. Such scenes have earned the movie its label as a thriller or even a gore movie.

“Seeing that movie made me cold,” said Katey Rich of Cinemablend.com, at the film’s preview. “I think it could be popular with an art-house audience [rather than the mainstream] just because of the language and the way it’s made.”

Language ought not to get in the way of a great film reaching a wide audience. And though the landscape is indeed mostly snowy, it offers a true representation of Sweden and the depressing nature of winters in that part of the world. Unfortunately, this image is often the only one that outsiders have of Scandinavia. Ingmar Bergman, though a great director, has thrown something of a curse on the Nordic countries. The dark nature of his films has caused other countries to import Nordic movies that fall within the same category.

Perhaps Let the Right One In, while remaining in this category, will also manage to transcend it. “I think this movie has great potential [to reach a large audience],” said one audience member, Gail Schoenberg. “Fans of Buffy would really like it.” Fans of Buffy or not, this is a great opportunity for people to familiarize themselves with Nordic film, enjoy the melodic flow of the Swedish language, and see some gore.

—Aïcha Linda Konaté

Fear(s) of the Dark

Imagine feeling a presence in a dark, deserted, house. Imagine being chased by ravenous dogs across a lonely frozen plain. Imagine being alone with your own deep, dark fears. Standing out among the films to debut this month of Halloween, Fear(s) of the Dark may not set your heartbeat racing, but the film is guaranteed to put your mind to work.

Fear(s) is a collection of animated segments that deal with a diverse array of themes on fear: childhood fears, the fear of death, the unknown, the other sex, and even fear of mediocrity. Extraordinary graphic artists including Blutch, Charles Burns, and Marie Caillou bring animated life to these psychological phobias with their different artistic styles. The episodes, portrayed in stark white and enveloping blackness, strip bare the most elemental truths of what scares us about the things that go bump in the night.

Considering that there are many different hues of fear, the black-and-white color scheme is surprisingly effective—likely even more so than color would have been. The art work is beautifully done, featuring an array of mediums from charcoal to computer animation. The images come across at times violent, desperate, or empty. The artists take viewers through a world where imagination and reality intersect, but the frame of mind they create has more to do with pensiveness than fear.

Fear(s) of the Dark seems to be a meditation on our current culture, while still addressing those primitive fears that are inherent to the human condition. We live in a culture that is surrounded and fascinated by fear. Considering the war, the economy, the crime rate, and the competitive pressure of society, these are frightening times. To be a student today is to be plagued by worry and fear: “What’s your major? Are you going to be able to find a job after school?” etc. Yet daily we repress the reflex of pulling the blanket over our heads in the morning, and instead go out into to that very same scary world.

Fear(s) of the Dark is a refreshing change, exploring the abstract concept of fear in the context of today’s society without frightening the audience half to death with cheap gore and jump scenes. Not only is it thought-provoking, but Fear(s) proves to be a lot of fun by virtue of being in the company of such great story-telling artists.

Fear(s) of the Dark is now playing at the IFC Center.

—Crystal Oliva