Saturday 3 October 2009

Let The Right One In




Firstly... what an incredibly immaculate piece of cinema this is. I am in love with the simplicity of the use of sound. I am in love with the way the locations, even though they are nothing breathtaking or unexpected, are shot in such a way that they add to the reality and intensity of the story. Although saying that, from a viewer who isn't accustomed to such a snowy culture, the whole essence of the film was changed because of the setting and locations.

The whiteness of the snow meant that there was a real sense of purity about some of the scenes, and now I look back on it I think there is definitely a deliberate contrast between the way bright, clear days are used to highlight some of Oskar's most poignant scenes, whereas Eli (due to the nature of her character) is shrouded in darkness. As I said before, this essence of purity almost makes you feel uncomfortable at Oskar's naievety to the whole situation - even though Eli's charm lies in her simplicity of dialogue and the way she treats Oskar, the viewer is still well aware of her dangerous nature, and the opposite side of her personality presented by her relationship with the man she lives with.

The relationship between the two characters is so excellently crafted, when the conclusion comes round, it is a given that Eli will save Oskar. But the shocking nature of her rescue is not expected - the ages of the two, coupled with the stark lack of any kind of meaningfully obvious emotional dialogue means you only truly realise the extent to which Oskar is in danger the whole time when Eli actually comes to his aid. Sure, the killings before were shocking, but none of them were made for any reason except hunger and bloodlust, and less so actually in front of Oskar.

I guess the rub comes in the final scene, where Oskar and Eli leave together. While this again was quite an obvious turn to take in terms of plot, it keeps to the general theme of naievety that runs throughout the whole film. You really are led to question how any of this could happen, how anyone could allow events to occur in this was (as Oskar does), and how such young individuals can be so sure of something. What lies beneath the silence and the awkwardly shot relationship between the two is something that is far less obvious - a desperation to move forward in any way possible, regardless of morality or social rule.
Twilight it isn't. It's far, far more clever.

My Soul in a Small Black Box