Let Me In

What stands out first about Let Me In is the confidence with which Matt Reeves establishes its horror film identity. Rather than relying on premise alone, Let Me In asks Kodi Smit McPhee and Chloë Grace Moretz to supply personality from the opening stretch. The premise of Let Me In is established with useful clarity: A bullied young boy befriends a young female vampire who lives in secrecy with her guardian. That direct approach lets Let Me In use its 1h 56m running time for character, atmosphere and consequence.

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The acting in Let Me In is anchored by Kodi Smit McPhee, who treats even functional scenes as opportunities to reveal character. Chloë Grace Moretz answers that approach with a different energy, giving Let Me In welcome friction whenever the pace begins to settle. Around them, Richard Jenkins helps Let Me In feel like an ensemble piece rather than a vehicle with decorative support. Under Matt Reeves, the performances in Let Me In share a tone even when the writing gives them unequal depth.

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As director of Let Me In, Matt Reeves proves careful about tone and generally effective in the transitions between intimate material and larger demands. A strong scene in Let Me In often begins with a modest detail before Matt Reeves lets its meaning expand. For Let Me In, the film delivers more often than it misses because the central tone remains visible even during busy passages. The weakness in Let Me In is that the middle loses a little urgency, although Matt Reeves usually finds the original rhythm again.

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Rather than summarise every event in Let Me In, it is enough to note how the central character places an important relationship under growing pressure. Kodi Smit McPhee gives that tension a face, which stops Let Me In from becoming a mechanical sequence of developments. Matt Reeves uses a difficult choice to widen the stakes of Let Me In without losing sight of the original problem. Where the wider conflict becomes predictable, Let Me In recovers interest through the consequences surrounding it.

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Let Me In gains much of its identity from uneasy framing, a choice that makes the world readable as well as attractive. The contribution of Overture Films allows Let Me In to combine uneasy framing with a consistent visual language. Within its United Kingdom setting, Let Me In makes particularly good use of patiently built dread when the story needs to change scale. Sound and editing preserve the personality of Let Me In by supporting detail instead of announcing every intended response.

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Let Me In uses its horror film framework to consider fear, isolation and the moment familiar spaces stop feeling safe. For the character played by Kodi Smit McPhee, that idea gives Let Me In stakes beyond the next immediate obstacle. The recurring pressure of an important relationship prevents the theme in Let Me In from feeling like decoration added after the story. Matt Reeves makes Let Me In more thoughtful whenever the implications remain inside action and reaction.

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Taken as a whole, Let Me In is a likeable film whose strengths survive its limitations for horror viewers who prefer atmosphere to constant shocks. Let Me In leaves its strongest impression through uneasy framing, the work of Kodi Smit McPhee and a clear understanding of tone. The limitations around how the middle loses a little urgency should be acknowledged, but they do not erase what Let Me In does well. I would return to Let Me In for its personality and its willingness to connect genre pleasure with recognisable feeling.