Video review: "Let Me In"

"Let Me In" is a better adaptation of the Swedish vampire film "Let the Right One In" than I had any reason to expect. Writer/director Matt Reeves kept the original's creepy atmospherics, although he did punch up the action beats, as one might expect.

The American version, which bombed at the box office, is unnecessary but undeniably well-made. It features two of the best child actors Hollywood has to offer, Chloe Moretz and Kodi Smit-McPhee as, respectively, an ancient blood-sucker trapped in a girl's body and the boy who befriends her.

Nine times out of 10, an American remake would tone down the violence and sexual innuendo of a daring European film. But this time, they preserved everything that made the original such an unnerving, makes-your-feet-itch experience.

Smit-McPhee is Owen, a slight, bullied lad who's intrigued by Abby, the new girl who moves into his snow-straddled apartment complex with (Owen assumes) her father in the dead of winter. She's strange: She only appears at night, doesn't seem bothered walking barefoot in the snow, and bathes infrequently. But soon these two lonely souls cement a connection that grows into the unlikeliest of affections.

It's not all happiness and sunshine, though. Even after he knows he's smitten, events unfold -- particularly those involving Abby's father figure -- forcing Owen to recognize that loving the undead brings ... complications.

If there ever were a romance between a human and a vampire, it would not be the stylized, sanitized Gothic splendor of the "Twilight" series. It would be like this: Disturbing, smelly and increasingly unpleasant as time goes by.

Video extras are quite good in both DVD and Blu-ray versions.

The DVD includes a commentary track by Reeves, a making-of documentary, a step-by-step look at some of the film's special effects, deleted scenes with commentary and a still gallery.

The Blu-ray includes all these features, plus a feature called "Dissecting Let Me In."

Movie: 3 stars out of four
Extras: 3.5 stars

Review: "Let Me In"

Just a mini-review tonight: It's late Wednesday and we have a date with a baby first thing in the morning. Austin Lugar is handling the main review over at The Film Yap, so tune in there for his more complete take.

Overall, "Let Me In" is a better adaptation of the Swedish film "Let the Right One In" than I had any reason to expect. Writer/director Matt Reeves kept the original's creepy atmospherics, although he did punch up the action beats, as one might expect.

I was surprised that they kept some of the more unseemly characteristics of Owen (a wonderful Kodi Smit-McPhee), a lonely bullied kid who befriends a girl vampire. An early sequence where he wears a horrifying mask and taunts his reflection in the mirror while holding a knife lets us know this isn't a sweet innocent.

I liked that about both movies -- the depiction of bullies and the bullied as suffering serious psychological impact as a result of their interaction. And, of course, the advice of young Nosferatu Abby: "Hit them harder than you dare. And then they'll stop."

Chloe Grace Moretz continues her impressive turn of performances, punctuated by "Kick-Ass" earlier this year. When I heard a remake of "Let the Right One In" was coming, I thought at least they picked the one young American actress who could pull it off.

The action is moved to Los Alamos, New Mexico, in the dead of winter. The look is spare and frigid, though the oppressive cold isn't quite as convincing as Sweden, of course.

Richard Jenkins is solid in the rather smallish role of Abby's human protector, who ruthlessly kills to feed her ancient craving for blood. Interestingly, he's credited as "The Father," even though Abby herself explicitly states that he's not her real father.

Another interesting choice was to depict Owen's mother only obliquely, through a fuzzy lens or in the distant background. It helps emphasize the boy's isolation, both physical and emotional.

I'll say this: If there ever were a romance between a human and a vampire, it would not be the stylized, sanitized Gothic splendor of the "Twilight" series. It would be like this: Disturbing, smelly and increasingly unpleasant as time goes by.

3 stars out of four

Video review: "Kick-Ass"

Was there a more polarizing film this year than "Kick-Ass"?

Roger Ebert called it "morally reprehensible." A.O. Scott of the New York Times said it "turned my stomach." I admitted the film left me disturbed, but also entertained, and "disturbed by how much I was entertained."

Fourth months after its theatrical release, the British/American send-up of the super-hero genre is looking like one of the boldest cinematic visions of 2010.

Aaron Johnson plays the title character, a high school loser who wonders why everyone loves super-heroes, but nobody actually dons a costume and goes out and fights crime. He buys a green wetsuit, wields a couple of billy clubs, and calls himself Kick-Ass.

The only ass initially kicked is his own, but after a few false starts the fledgling hero makes a name for himself, via YouTube video of his exploits.

Soon a whole lot of supes come out of the woodwork, notably Hit-Girl (Chloe Moretz), a pint-sized package of blood-spurting destruction, and her father/mentor/enabler Big Daddy (Nicolas Cage).

If Kick-Ass is a pathetic wannabe, this frightful duo are the hair-raising real deal. Hit-Girl shoots and slices her way through bad guys, and insults them with the foulest language you've ever heard coming out of the mouth of an 11-year-old.

This is, after all, based on a comic book whose teaser line was "Sickening Violence: Just the Way You Like It!"

Love it or loath it, this movie smashes Hollywood conventions.

When it comes to video extras, "Kick-Ass" does just that.

The Blu-ray/DVD combo pack includes a digital copy, and a host of features that shed light about the production. The centerpiece is a making-of documentary that, at 113 minutes, is only slightly shorter than the film itself.

The doc touches on absolutely every aspect of conception and shooting, including director Matthew Vaughn's pushback at those who flogged the movie as exploitative. One revelation is the filmmakers gave the role to Johnson before they knew he's British.

Vaughn also provides a feature-length commentary track, including the tidbit that Marvel Comics forced him to change logo of his longstanding production company, MARV, even though those are simply his initials. (His obeisance must have paid off; Vaughn is now slated to directe the "X-Men" reboot.)

Additionally, there's an "Ass-Kicking Bonus View Mode" that includes tons of behind-the-scenes video footage (which also incorporates some of Vaughn's commentary).

Plus, a 20-minute featurette on the comic book origin, and a gallery of stills.

Movie: 3 stars out of four
Extras: 3.5 stars

Review: "Kick-Ass"

There are a lot of movies that want to be regarded as edgy and rebellious, but fall squarely into mainstream Hollywood mores. They toy with conventions rather than shattering them. "The Runaways" is a recent, agreeable example.

"Kick-Ass" is something different: A film that is entirely subversive.

This off-the-wall adaptation of an underground comic book about underage superheroes is ultra-violence mixed with laughs, the one segueing into the other and back again. It's "Spider-Man" meets "A Clockwork Orange."

I was disturbed, and entertained, and disturbed by how much I was entertained.

Director Matthew Vaughn lingers lovingly over slo-mo depictions of bullets perforating bodies and fists smashing lips. In one scene, a goon gets the muzzle of a gun pressed inside his mouth, and when it blows out his cheek, the expectation is that the audience will laugh.

And we do.

I should mention that the most heinous blood-letting is perpetrated by an 11-year-old lass who wears a purple wig and mask and calls herself "Hit-Girl." As for the bad guys she's about to blow away and/or carve up, she calls them the f-word, the c-word, and pretty much all the other words little girls aren't supposed to say.

It's a smashmouth performance by young Chloe Moretz, who speaks those naughty epithets with an unpracticed ease, using that dramatic rasp so favored by avengers from Dirty Harry to Batman. Having them come out of this kewpie-doll-sized character's mouth immediately renders all those other iterations utterly ridiculous.

The star of the movie, at least in name, is the title character. An everyday put-upon nerd who can't get a date or stand up to bullies, Dave Lizewski (Aaron Johnson) finds courage when he dons a green-and-yellow wetsuit and starts carousing around Manhattan, calling himself Kick-Ass and looking for crime to fight.

"Like every serial killer knows, eventually fantasizing doesn't do it anymore," Dave/Kick-Ass narrates about his super-hero longings.

His first outing doesn't go so well, resulting in an extended hospital stay. But eventually his exploits are captured on YouTube and he becomes a sensation, attracting the attention of other super-wannabes.

Chief among them are Hit-Girl and her partner Big Daddy, who dresses like Batman and actually is her daddy, played by Nicolas Cage. Cage, who's a huge comics fan himself and almost played Superman, is delightfully cracked as a man who trains his only child to be a cheerful killing machine. Their target is Frank D'Amico (Mark Strong), the local mob boss with whom they have history.

Also popping up is Red Mist (Christopher Mintz-Plasse), who's even geekier than Lizewski. He wants to be Kick-Ass' sidekick, which seems a little odd since he owns an awesome red Mistmobile and a lot of hardware, while all Kick-Ass seems to have at his disposal is a couple of billy clubs.

The screenplay for "Kick-Ass" was written by Jane Goldman and Vaughn, based on the comic book by Mark Millar and John Romita Jr. I haven't read it, but based on its cover teaser -- "Sickening Violence: Just the Way You Like It!" -- they seem to have nailed the tone spot on.

Fanboys are apt to enter full-on gush mode for the movie's gleeful depictions of brutality. But will a film that doesn't play by the rules gain a mass following? Heaven help us, we can only hope.

3 stars out of four