Let Me In, America

The remake of the cultishly popular Swedish vampire movie passes by the skin of its red, white and blue teeth.

[
        
          {
            "name": "Air - Inline Content - Upper",
            "component": "26908817",
            "insertPoint": "1/4",
            "requiredCountToDisplay": "8"
          },{
            "name": "Air - Inline Content - Middle",
            "component": "26908818",
            "insertPoint": "1/2",
            "requiredCountToDisplay": "8"
          },{
            "name": "Air - Inline Content - Lower",
            "component": "26908819",
            "insertPoint": "100",
            "requiredCountToDisplay": "1"
          }
        
        ]

This American remake is louder and less subtle than the 2008 Swedish original, Let the Right One In---but only just. Transferring the action to wintry New Mexico, writer-director Matt Reeves makes a few sensible tweaks but remains faithful to the story of a bullied tween boy (Kodi Smit-McPhee) finding the ultimate protector in a vampire (Chloe Moretz) who only appears to be the same age. The blood flies when Moretz's Abby feeds, but the horror elements aren't anything special. What elevates Let Me In are McPhee and Moretz, their friendship complicated by her hunger and his awakening sexuality, and Reeves, whose stark, icy visuals reflect the tone of the material. While it's not especially scary, the lonely, isolated characters and sense of overwhelming sadness is unsettling.