“I’m only twelve. But I’ve been that for a long time.”

I don’t read a lot of horror, nor do I watch a lot of horror, because generally speaking, I’m not the kind of person who derives entertainment or thrills from being scared. A little suspense is great, and I can also handle a pretty good amount of gore, so it’s hard to say what goes from acceptable to nightmare fuel, but in any case, when it gets to be too much, I’m out. So, a book, movie, or show labeled “horror” needs a lot of accolades (and probably a good idea of the content, on my end) for me to be willing to go there.

Let the Right One In works for me. It’s a quality story that’s refreshingly light on cheap thrills and utilizes the classical horror elements (e.g. gory murders, freaky vampirism) in the margins around real-life horrible things. The movie monster serves more to highlight the people-monsters than to be terrifying in her own right.

Having kept myself in the dark about the story, I was surprised to find sharp, brutal portrayals of bullying and pedophilia in what I expected to be a fairly straightforward creepy vampire book. But, no — the vampire, well, she’s gotta eat, but the worst of the horror comes from regular humans who are enslaved to their own worst impulses and tendencies. The mob mentality of the boys who torment protagonist Oscar is borne out of malice by few, and self-preservation and the desire to fit in by the rest. The adult murderer kills because he’s trying to get blood for vampire Eli, but why would a man be willing to murder for someone else? In his case, it’s the hope she will grant him his wish to act on his illicit, uncontrollable urges toward her, looking as she does like a twelve-year-old.

For all that there are murders, supernatural phenomena, and other grotesqueries going on, there is not actually all that much plot in Let the Right One In. The Swedish suburb where everything takes place is depicted as shocked at the unusual nature of the murders, but it’s completely anesthetized and numb to the more casual violence and tragedy that is pervasive there, like rampant alcoholism and the manifestation of broken families as abuse of one’s peers. That Oscar, a child, has such muted reactions to Eli’s violence — and that he blithely play-acts stabbing his bullies to death with a hunting knife — is a testament to growing up with the community apathy. As such, there is a slow, voyeuristic vibe to the events that unfold in the book. These people won’t grow and develop; they won’t be changed by the string of incidents caused by the arrival of a vampire; they’ll simply regress back into their stupor and tacit complicity with the indiscretions of their children and neighbors.

It is hard to end reviews and write conclusions statements in general. So consider this sentence an apology for that fact, and fin.