Greta

Director: Neil Jordan
Starring: Isabelle Huppert, Chloe Grace Moretz, Maika Monroe, Colm Feore, Stephen Rea
Running Time: 98 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

It's not particularly easy to make an over-the-top suspense thriller like Greta without falling prey to some really dumb decisions for entertainment's sake. That writer/director Neil Jordan sidesteps a lot of them while managing to craft a tight, fairly efficient effort is an accomplishment considering the temptations to take shortcuts that have undermined so many mainstream entries like it. Of course, this isn't to say that dumb decisions aren't sometimes made, but they feel less like screenwriting contrivances than mistakes the lead character would make based upon what we learn of her. But better than that, Jordan has also cast three talented actresses who gamely juggle material that might elicit unintentional laughs in less capable hands.

At the risk of overpraising a film for merely managing to not mess up a good thing or embarrass anyone involved, there's still a great deal to be said for that, and reminding us that it isn't a prerequisite for all Hollywood thrillers to be brain dead. It simmers slowly, before piling on some complications that are pretty ridiculous without being entirely illogical. There are many points where you're sure the script's on the verge of deteriorating into a bad slasher before pulling back to make choices that aren't exactly unpredictable per se, but prove rewarding nonetheless. And in Chloe Moretz, they've found the perfect protagonist, her character's idealism quickly shattered when she lets her guard down, allowing us to join in her deer-in-headlights amazement at the quickly escalating craziness.

Frances McCullen (Moretz) is a young waitress living in New York City with her best friend, Erica Penn (Maika Monroe) while still coping with the death of her mother and strained relationship with her distant, workaholic father. Frequently rejecting Erica's offers to go out and loosen up, one day Frances finds a handbag left behind while riding on the subway. After discovering the bag belongs to a French woman named Greta Hideg (Isabelle Huppert), she finds her address and delivers it in person. Extending her gratitude over coffee, Greta reveals she's a widowed piano teacher with a daughter living and studying in Paris. Soon, Frances begins spending time with this lonely, older woman, even helping her pick out a dog at the shelter.

Despite Erica's warnings that Frances is merely trying to fill the void left by her mother's passing, the two start spending a lot of time together, at least until Frances makes a chilling discovery that causes her to question Greta's true motivations. But when she tries to break it off, the calls and texts from Greta intensify, revealing her to be a seriously sick woman with more problems than Frances could have ever imagined. And she doesn't take rejection lightly, stalking Frances to the point of putting her life, as well as the lives of people she holds closest, in serious peril.

Without reinventing the wheel, Greta carries on the tradition of some of the more successful female-centric stalker films of the 90's such as The Hand That Rocks the Cradle and Misery, despite its narrative or asthetic never really dabbling in horror for its entire running length. Oscar-winner Jordan really takes his time setting everything up, firmly establishing the inner and outer lives of these two very different women who will undoubtedly be locking horns in the second half. The thrills come from watching the legendary Isabelle Hupert slowly unspool her antagonist's psychosis, taking Greta from being nice and harmless, to kooky, to a little clingy, until finally flying off the deep end.

The film is subtle until it isn't, correctly recognizing when to pull the trigger and embrace its craziness. We recognize this absurdity and go with it mainly due to the cativating match-up between Huppert and Moretz, which delivers every time they share the screen, aided by a script that contains clever nuggets like Greta terrorizing Frances and Erica with her flip phone. There comes a point in the story where we're sure we know where it's headed, but it toys with us a bit, keeping the body count almost shockingly low before saving most of its ammunition for an ambitious ending that plays with the roles of terrorists and victims. While still a potboiler that doesn't pretend to offer deep psychological meditation, it does gives its stalked leads a surprising amount of agency for a movie of its kind.

Acting opposite a force of nature in Huppert, Moretz also slowly takes Frances through the various stages of realizing she's in way over her head. Being a nice and naive may not be the most exciting of qualities for a thriller heroine, but we're with her and she's completely believable, as is Maika Monroe, who as Erica initially seems to be embodying the ultimate best friend cliche of airheaded party animal. But becuase of the actress's rising stock, you get the feeling there's more there, and that suspicion pays off, revealing her character to not only be the sole voice of reason, but possibly the film's most memorably relatable. You get the impresion that had Greta exclusively targeted her, it may not have been a fair fight. As a cat-and-mouse game capped with a clever Hitchcockian twist, Greta ends up equaling a little more than the sum of its parts, eventually revealing itself to be an entertaining throwback in the genre.

Carrie (2013)

Director: Kimberly Peirce
Starring: Chloe Grace Moretz, Julianne Moore, Gabriella Wilde, Ansel Elgort, Alex Russell, Portia Doubleday, Judy Greer
Running Time: 99 min.
Rating: R

★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

Let's just get it out of the way now: Yes, Chloe Moretz is too pretty to play Carrie White, the role originated by Sissy Spacek in the 1976 Brian DePalma film. It's a statement you've heard and read a lot from everyone leading up to release of a remake most would consider pointless anyway. But whether or not it's actually pointless is up to the filmmaker remaking it, and sometimes that's not even true as they're often just following the marching orders of the studio. While we'll never know for sure, that seems to be what happened with director Kimberly Peirce (Boys Don't Cry, Stop-Loss), who's as good a choice as any to make this work. And there are some moments when it almost does, in spite of all the obstacles put in front of her.

The question of whether Carrie has to have a certain look in order for Stephen King's story play believably on screen is a good one since the character's supposed to be an outcast on every level. While Spacek would never be considered "ugly" by anyone's standards, she did have an unconventional appearance that made her stand out from the pack, allowing the narrative of a shy, creepy misfit and social outcast to take flight in a way it wouldn't if another, more conventional "movie star" were cast. It's a case where looks matter. The same description even applies (to a lesser degree) to Angela Bettis in 2002 TV remake. Because the last thing Moretz can be described as is "unconventional," she's already at a deficit before the cameras start rolling. No one's denying her talent and despite being miscast she does a commendable job under thankless circumstances. Unfortunately, she just has to work harder to do it.

Shy outcast Carrie White (Moretz) is tormented by her classmates at Ewen High School, while at home she's emotionally bullied by her borderline psychotic mother Margaret (Julianne Moore), whose religious fanaticism prevents her daughter from leading the life of a normal teen. But at school Carrie finds a confidante and mentor in gym teacher Miss Desjardin (Judy Greer), who seems determined to punish the offenders, most notably popular ringleader Chris Hargensen (Portia Doubleday). Also feeling sympathy is classmate Sue Snell (Gabriella Wilde) whose guilt over joining in the teasing leads her to urge boyfriend Tommy Ross (Ansel Elgort) to take Carrie to the prom. Needless to say the invitation doesn't go over well with mother Margaret, whose daughter is now just starting to realize her telekinetic powers. And that means trouble for everyone.

What's most bothersome about this reimagining is how it almost seems to draw attention to the miscasting by overcompensating, both with Peirce's direction of the actress and some of the goofy creative choices early on. Exaggerated mannerisms and costuming choices are used to accentuate the fact Carrie is a weirdo since that's really the only viable option. She mumbles, she slumps, she walks with her arms folded. All of this screamed acting with a capital "A" to me and altogether doesn't seem like the wisest route to take, but perhaps predestined considering the casting.

Moore's take on Margaret is campy to say the least, chomping on every scene in a performance that feels like an audition reel for Mommie Dearest. The only good thing is that it's clear early on the tonal direction they were going with this and the performance works as that. Whether it's the direction they should have gone with the material is another argument altogether, but unless memory fails, the original didn't feel quite this over-the-top and silly in its first half. Carrie's discovery of her "powers" also isn't handled as well, making the original seem like a telekinesis documentary in comparison. The presentation seems off, as if the screenwriters saw one too many episodes of Heroes, as opposed to attempting to organically incorporate it into the story.            

A web video on a smartphone and some texting represents the script's stabs at contemporizing King's first novel, but given how much of a timely, hot-button topic school and cyber-bullying has become, I expected a little more. But maybe it's for the best that they didn't at the risk of it feeling like just another teen horror movie, which it kind of already does. But the scenes involving Carrie's abuse at school are some of the strongest, especially that infamous shower scene with her cluelessly experiencing her first period as classmates ridicule her. One would guess this is primarily what earned the film its "R" rating, although you can't help but think the end product still strangely feels like a "PG-13."

The two strongest performances unsurprisingly come from Judy Greer and Ansel Elgort. As Miss Desjardin, Greer is asked to do some pretty ridiculous things for a gym teacher and yet she's completely believable doing every single one of them. She's an actress who can just slide into any role and do anything so it's not a shock, but when her character hits and curses at students, I actually believed an administrator wouldn't even think of firing her. It's one of many instances of her impressively covering up the script's flaws.

Elgort shows signs of the talent he'd later emerge as in The Fault in Our Stars with a similar but not identical performance. He exudes a laid-back confidence and likability as Tommy, going a long way to transcend material that wants to paint him as a one-dimensional high school jock. He and Sue going out of their way to help Carrie just might the most compelling sub-plot, if only because there's legitimate doubt as to their intentions the entire time. While Gabriella Wilde comes off as a blank slate as Sue, what Portia Doubleday does with Chris is great, as the character is less a school bully this time around than a full-fledged sociopath. It's a wise decision that only enhances our sympathy for Carrie and has you anticipating the moment when Chris get hers.

When Moretz transforms from ugly duckling into beautiful swan for prom it weirdly feels like the equivalent of Rachael Leigh Cook removing her glasses in She's All That, to the point that I half-expected Sixpence None the Richer to start playing. Nonetheless, this is the point where Moretz's performance really comes alive, as she's freed to play a more realistic teen instead of sulking as a weirdo. With the exception of maybe a little too much CGI, Peirce nails the big bloodbath of a finale, which was high on the list of things she absolutely had to get right.

There were plenty of stumbles along the way, but the staging of the famous ending is an exciting recreation, even making a couple of minor changes to the action in that gym that seem creatively defensible. What isn't is the final image, which reminded me of what Tim Burton did in his disastrous Planet of the Apes remake: Take an iconic closing shot and unnecessarily tweak it while winking at the audience. This isn't as bad an offender, but you have to wonder why they made it a point to change one of the few things that should have remained untouched. And are all horror remakes now required to close with a hard rock song, regardless of whether it fits?   

Since it clearly isn't strong horror, you have to wonder if Peirce had abandoned all genre trappings in favor of a coldly realistic dramatic tragedy, this would have turned out better. Sure, it would have alienated horror audiences, but that's a demographic you could argue is dwindling in theater presence anyway. There's little doubt that approach would have made for a better film, but I'm not sure it would have been as fun to watch.  This latest King interpretation certainly doesn't rank amongst his worst, but it's a missed opportunity, eventually finds its footing in time to deliver a gripping third act. But by then, the damage is already done.There's no problem in remaking Carrie, but if they're not going to change anything besides the cast, it's perplexing just how inferior this turned out with all the talent involved.
   

Dark Shadows

Director: Tim Burton
Starring: Johnny Depp, Michelle Pfeiffer, Helena Bonham Carter, Eva Green, Jackie Earle Haley, Jonny Lee Miller, Chloe Grace Moretz, Bella Heathcote
Running Time: 113 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

Dark Shadows starts off promisingly enough, with a prologue that's actually somewhat intriguing and an initial 40 minutes that teases the possibility that Tim Burton may have finally made a great movie again. Then it's all downhill, as the tone, which was initially so sure and steady, goes all over the place. At points it's just not clear what Burton was going for. Sometimes it feels like a Gothic horror movie while at others the comedy is so broad it may as well be a remake of The Munsters. What's not in question is that as far as TV-to-film adaptations go, at least this one seemed like a reasonable idea and it's understandable why Burton wanted to tackle it. But it's also equally frustrating when you have a director with so much talent and all these great ideas who can't seem to translate it into a compelling narrative with characters we care about. It happens over and over again with him to the point that it's difficult to even pinpoint a solution anymore (though taking a break from working with Depp might be a start). This is a fascinating near-miss, filled with elements that could have made for a great film and a single performance that really deserves to be in one. And having not seen the original 1960's cult supernatural soap it's based on, I'm comfortable wagering a guess that it's probably excellent. You can see the shell of something special and different here, especially in the first half hour. It would all seem to be right in Burton's wheelhouse, but once again his propensity for favoring production design over storytelling sinks him.     

The story tells of Barnabus Collins (Johnny Depp), who arrives to America from Liverpool in the mid 1700's and has an affair with the family maid Angelique (Eva Green), before spurning her and falling in love with Josette du Pres (Bella Heathcote). But an angry, jealous Angelique reveals herself to be a witch, cursing Josette into jumping off a cliff to her death and sentencing Barnabus to a life as an immortal vampire. Buried alive and locked in a chain coffin by Angelique for 196 years, he finally awakens in 1972, discovering that his cursed descendants now reside in his Collinsport, Maine manor. There's his cousin and family matriarch, Elizabeth (Michelle Pfeiffer), her brother Roger (Jonny Lee Miller), her rebellious 15-year-old daughter Caroline (Chloe Grace Moretz), Roger's troubled 10-year-old son David (Gulliver McGrath), and his psychiatrist Dr. Julia Hoffman (Helena Bonham Carter). They're joined by the grounds' creepy caretaker, Willie Loomis (Jackie Earle Haley) and their newest arrival, Victoria Winters (Heathcote again), a mysterious girl who's been hired as David's governess and bares more than a passing resemblance to Barnabus' dead lover Josette. Staying with the family under the guise of a distant relative, Barnabus begins to fall for her. But Angelique's still in town posing as a successful business woman, and if she can't have him, she'll destroy him, along with the rest of the Collins family.

The casting feels spot-on and as aggravating as it is seeing Depp collaborating with Burton for what feels like the hundredth time, he at least seems well suited for a role he's supposedly dreamed of playing for years. It's just unfortunate that his spooky, pale-faced appearance makes the role seem indistinguishable from his turns in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Sweeney Todd, Edward Scissorhands, Sleepy Hollow and Alice in Wonderland. So, Barnabus is basically a composite of every Tim Burton character he's played. I'd like to say Depp does something totally different this time around, but it's really just more of the same, which isn't to say he's terrible. In fact, the most interesting portion of the film is the culture clash that takes place when 200 year-old Barnabus wakes up in the 1970's and must adjust to this new lifestyle around him. Just about the best decision Burton made was to set this in that decade since the setting becomes a time travel trip for the viewer as much as the story's protagonist. Watching Barnabus find his way around these surroundings, his observations of the music and fashions and seeing how his dysfunctional family responds to his resurrection, provide the satisfying moments.With a soundtrack featuring the likes of The Moody Blues, Donovan, Black Sabbath and Alice Cooper (who cameos) a good case can be made that the music is actually better than the movie, providing a steady stream of entertainment the story often lacks, especially in its last hour. Frequent Burton collaborator Danny Elfman also provides a creepy, catchy score that captures just the right tone for the material.

An excellent musical montage set to The Carpenter's "Top of the World" that pretty much signifies the film's last great moment before it deteriorates before our eyes and Burton's worst impulses take over. The script seems to abandons the compelling "fish-out-of water" story and Baranbus' connection to Victoria (who may or may not be his reincarnated lover) in favor of his love/hate feud with Angelique. There's a silly, over-the-top sex scene and everything that follows is practically too much of a mess to describe. Eva Green does her best to make it work though, giving what's far and away the best performance in the film by managing to lend many dimensions to a fairly one-dimensional character. Seductive, creepy and funny, she successfully turns Angelique into kind of a live-action cartoon, proving to have a great knack for physical comedy as well as dark drama. A haunting Bella Heathcote excels too in her dual role, despite being introduced as a major character then promptly forgotten about by the film's second half. Chloe Moretz is as melodramatic as can be as angry teen Caroline, though there's a development late involving her that comes completely out of left field and seems to make little sense at all. And this is probably the closest Helena Bonham Carter will ever come to playing at least a partially normal character in one of her husband's films. Yet, her Dr. Hoffman stills seems like a wacked out weirdo, which is probably appropriate.

The ending heavily hints at a sequel that won't likely happen anytime soon due to this film's disappointing financial returns. The expectation was clearly to build a franchise but adapting a TV series (especially one with which most modern audiences are unfamiliar) is tough because you can get way with a lot more when you have weeks and months to build a story. Supposedly, the supernatural weren't introduced in the original until well into the show's run, which had to have been a fun shock for viewers. An updated feature film adaptation has no such luxury, highlighting one of many advantages TV has over film right now. This is definitely a case where there are a lot of interesting ideas and fanciful performances that just don't connect in a cohesive, engaging story like they should. The set-up is perfect but when it comes to delivering on it, Burton drops the ball. If there's good news it's that the first hour of the movie proves that he's still got it. He always seems to be at his creative peak when telling deeply personal original stories, but frequently falters when adapting previously existing material for a payday. Dark Shadows feels like something strangely in between. It's questionable placing the blame entirely on Burton when so many other hands are on deck and factors at play in determining this project's success, but he's an unusual case in that he's the kind of filmmaker whose visual influence and style permeates through every facet of the work. For better or worse, his imprint is unmistakable. It's just that lately, it's been for worse.        

Hugo

Director: Martin Scorsese
Starring: Asa Butterfield, Ben Kingsley, Chloe Grace Moretz, Sacha Baron Cohen, Ray Winstone, Emily Mortimer, Jude Law, Christopher Lee
Running Time: 128 min.
Rating: PG

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

There's this theory that the last two months of each year are reserved exclusively for "adult" movies. Arriving last November, Martin Scorsese's Hugo seemed at least on the surface to be an exception. Based on an acclaimed children's book The Invention of Hugo Cabret by Brian Selznick and filmed and released in 3D, it felt exactly like the kind of giant family feature that would clean up at the box office, with parents taking their kids in droves to the theater as if it were an early Harry Potter installment. But they didn't. Maybe too sophisticated for children and too kid-friendly for adults, it ended up as a critically acclaimed commercial flop that racked up a healthy number of Academy Award nominations (including Best Picture) and wins. All those wins came in technical categories, which is ironic considering that wasn't even the most impressive aspect of the picture for me. I'm always weary when someone tells me something "has to" be seen in 3D. It actually makes me less interested in seeing it, so in the case of Hugo where my interest level was already minimal, the decision to wait for a home viewing was an especially easy one. My mind won't change on 3D overnight or even with Scorsese's endorsement, but this is still a magical film with or without it.

It's 1930's Paris and a 12-year-old boy named Hugo Cabret (Asa Butterfield) lives in the walls of the Gare Montparnasse train station with his alcoholic uncle (Ray Winstone) following the death of his father (Jude Law) in a museum fire. When his uncle suddenly disappears Hugo is left on his own to maintain the clocks and continue working on his father's final project: Fixing a broken automaton robot he believes contains a secret message from him. While stealing parts to repair it he's caught by the station's grumpy toy store owner (Ben Kingsley) and attracts the unwanted attention the Station Inspector Gustave (Sacha Baron Cohen), who catches orphans and locks them in cages. His only friend turns out to be the toy store owner's goddaughter Isabelle (Chloe Grace Moretz) who joins him in unlocking the mystery surrounding the automaton and discovering its strange connection to her godfather's hidden past. It isn't until the full nature of the mystery is revealed that the film really starts to take off as up to that point everything is visually spectacular (deservedly winning Oscars for Robert Richardson's cinematography and Dante Ferretti's art direction), but ordinary from narrative standpoint. That doesn't last long though. 

John Logan's screenplay takes its time for a reason, and since trailers and reviews have been liberal in revealing the secret, so will I. Isabelle's godfather is really legendary A Trip to the Moon filmmaker Georges Melies who's now washed up and embittered, forced into retirement following World War I, with his life's work seemingly lost and legacy long forgotten. Film historian Rene Tabard (Michael Stuhlberg), who's written and lectured on Melies even believes him to be dead. What happens next shouldn't be spoiled other than to say Scorsese merges actual biography and fantasy in a way that needs to be seen to be believed. For about an hour straight this film enters what I like to call "the zone," where you're completely swept away by the story to the point that you forget you're even watching a movie. It's a level of perfection few films reach but Scorsese gets there, at least for the last third of the picture.  The extended middle portion of The Tree of Life played in that area earlier in the year, but there's a flashback section here taking us through film history that's emotionally moving in a way I wasn't completely prepared for going in. It'll probably play best for film buffs but I can't imagine anyone else watching it wouldn't also be affected by how beautifully it's presented.

Having heard about this flashback section beforehand, my biggest worry was Scorsese turning the story into a public service announcement for film preservation (which admittedly wouldn't be the worst cause to force on us anyway) and shoehorning the rest of the movie into that. This doesn't happen, as the biggest relief is how well all the the narrative pieces fit together and tie into the central theme of broken people in need of fixing. It not only extends to Hugo, but Georges' wife and former actress Jeanne (Helen McCrory), as well Sacha Baron Cohen's comical inspector. There's a sub-plot involving him and the station flower girl (Emily Mortimer) that could have seemed completely cornball in another director's hands, but instead comes off as genuinely touching and organic to the story.

For some strange reason a lot of criticism has been leveled against the performance of young Asa Butterfield as the title character and I'm kind of at a loss as to why. He's mainly called upon to look in wide eyed amazement at everything with his expressive eyes and turn on the waterworks when necessary and does that just fine. What's strange is that despite playing the protagonist and being the driving engine behind the narrative, the film doesn't live and die by his performance like you'd figure it would. He's important, but ultimately just a cog in the machine, which is fitting considering the film's central theme. He doesn't give a poor performance at all but if he did or Scorsese picked a less talented child actor, a part of me thinks the picture might not have suffered much at all. It's about Hugo, yet it isn't. Butterfield does good work, but it kind of perfectly blends in, possibly causing an understandable reluctance from many to praise it. Moretz is better but that's completely expected given her experience, and if she looks and even acts a little old for the role (despite being exactly the same age as Butterfield) it's understandable since the Isabelle character seems to be written as slightly older. But this is Ben Kingsley's movie, giving a career-high supporting performance that went surprisingly overlooked during awards season. It isn't off base to claim he's the actor most responsible for the film's success, bringing an uncommon amount of depth and gravity to a bitter man simultaneously running from and toward his past.

Chalk this up as yet another entry in the nostalgia craze that swept through theaters in 2011, joining the likes of The Artist, Super 8, War Horse, Drive, Midnight in Paris and many more. But give this credit for at least depicting a relationship with the past that isn't completely full of the warm and fuzzies, even if does end that way. It only suffers in having a section so powerful that the rest of the film has trouble holding its ground with it. And while it seems we were obligated to honor Steven Spielberg and Woody Allen for just releasing anything, this (unlike 2010's Shutter Island) feels as if it would still be garnering massive praise without the knowledge Scorsese directed it. Yet he's inseparable from it anyway. Given its size and scope Hugo still manages to feels almost embarrassingly intimate and personal. It doesn't at all feel like the work of a filmmaker pushing 70, but one still trying new things and pushing himself in different directions. I may not always agree with those directions but it's impressive he would try something this unexpectedly ambitious when he clearly doesn't need to and could just pump out the same stuff he has been. The nicest surprise accompanying Hugo is that it wasn't listed among the nine Best Picture nominees as a favor to the person who made it, but because it actually deserved to be.

Let Me In

 

Director: Matt Reeves
Starring: Kodi Smit-McPhee, Chloe Grace Moretz, Elias Koteas, Richard Jenkins, Cara Buono, Sasha Barrese, Dylan Minnette
Running Time: 116 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★) 

Let Me In, director Matt Reeves' American remake of the acclaimed 2008 Swedish horror film Let The Right One In is not a movie about vampires. That detail is wisely a backdrop to what's a coming-of-age period film and mood piece featuring a character who happens to be a vampire. It's a means to an end, important in identifying why the film succeeds and how it escapes the pitfalls always accompanying this genre. Having still not seen the original I can't compare, but can still somewhat appreciate the uphill battle Reeves faced in justifying such a project's existence. One group will hate it because they reject the idea of their favorite horror film being remade or just assume any foreign property will have to be dumbed down to appeal to mainstream audiences. Everyone else won't care at all because they've never heard of it. Reeves manages to overcome both those obstacles with an unusually smart, suspenseful film that's beautifully photographed, lushly scored and fully absorbing from start to finish. And that statement comes from someone who usually can't stand anything having to do with vampires and considers it a lazy, overused film topic. If only the final product could turn out like this more often. The few scenes depicting that are handled surprisingly well, but the real horror is found in the emotional pain of growing up.

It's 1983 in Los Alamos, New Mexico and an apparent suicide of a disfigured patient at the local hospital panics the local police detective (Elias Koteas), who finds only a note by his bedside reading: "I'm sory Abby." We flashback two weeks earlier to meet 12-year-old Owen (Kodi Smit McPhee), lonely, depressed boy going through some serious issues with his parents' impending divorce and brutal harassment from bullies at school. With no one to turn to and too afraid to retaliate, he internalizes everything and creates imaginary scenarios of revenge with his pocket knife and a tree. If ever a child were destined for a future filled with trips to the school psychologist's office, it's him. Relief comes in the arrival of Abby (Chloe Grace Moretz), a girl who claims to be his age who moves in next door with a solemn looking middle-aged man (Richard Jenkins) who appears to be her father. After some reluctance on her part to befriend him they start to grow closer and it becomes clear she isn't a twelve year-old girl and that isn't her father. But let's not call her a "vampire," because doing that would be a betrayal of how intelligently the narrative unfolds and the restraint with which her situation is presented. She simply needs to blood to survive. This becomes a problem as she forges a closer relationship with Owen, who inches closer to the truth about her as she teaches him to stand up to his tormentors.

Vampirism always seems to fare best in films when it's treated as an affliction or almost a disease of sorts, as it is here. Abby's condition isn't glamorized in any way, she doesn't think it would be cool to live thousands of years, dress in gothic clothes, sleep all day or hang out with werewolves. Instead, this is a curse ruining her life and preventing her from ever forging a meaningful bond with anyone. That you could probably replace being a vampire with any other physical or psychological affliction and still emerge with a story just as strong proves how much more is going on beneath the surface. It's really about two lonely, troubled kids brought together with their friendship tested by this huge obstacle put in front of them. The question becomes whether Owen can still accept her and whether Abby can withstand the temptation to use him as she does everyone else, including her "father." There are times that this budding childhood romance is handled with such special care that if not for the dark, somber undercurrent, the storyline would recall My Girl before it would a horror film.  What scares there are come not from the few, well-placed and suspenseful vampire attacks from Abby but instead the bullying Owen endures at school by Kenny (an effectively menacing Dylan Minette) and his gang, which is more terrifying than any of the the graphic blood-drenched events that unfold during the picture.

As smart as Reeves' script (based on the novel by John Ajvide Lindqvist in addition to the Swedish film) is in putting the emphasis in the right place and cloaking the vampire elements in a coming-of-age tale, casting was crucial. Thankfully, the young performers are amazing. Kodi Smit-McPhee is subtly devastating as the fearful, lonely Owen so disconnected from everyone else that even his mother (played by Cara Buono) is barely shown on screen at all, her face covered or out of view throughout.  After going two for two in 2010 with this and Kick-Ass, Chloe Moretz is emerging as an actress whose career bares watching in much the same way Natalie Portman's did in its early stages. This is a complex role requiring her to be doomed killing machine in addition to conveying the emotional pain of a lovestruck young girl sentenced to spend her entire life in childhood. This dark, heavy material but these kids get it and rise to the challenge. Just as strong in a small but pivotal role is Richard Jenkins as Abby's guardian, with his sad eyes and morose expression revealing more than any line of dialogue possibly could. And during one memorable stretch of the film, he still somehow does it with a bag over his head. As a character added for this adaptation, Elias Koteas is the eyes and ears for the audience as a nameless local cop, but he gets us to care what happens to him, even if against better judgment we find ourselves in the uncomfortable position of rooting for a vampire to escape.

The early 80's setting present in both the novel and original film was retained and is maximized to great effect through the perfect placement of certain classic rock songs of the era and period details that leave no doubt this takes place in the 80's without ever hammering us over the head with it. The time and setting feel like an natural extension of the plot, like a dream or memory that if updated to modern day could somehow ring false regardless of one's familiarity with the source material.  Only the best period pieces understand it's not so much about the clothes, hairstyles or music (though it's a factor), but capturing a certain mood or spirit of the time that takes you back. The somber tone of the film is spot-on and never waivers, reinforced by Michael Giacchino's creepy, melancholy score and cinematography from Greig Fraser that's soaked in washed-out browns and a yellowish amber tint that creates a visually unsettling atmosphere. That such a methodical, introspective film came from the director of 2008's shaky-cam monster movie Cloverfield is kind of a shock. This is about as far from that as can be while still vaguely straddling a similar genre.

When Stephen King named Let Me In his favorite movie of 2010, calling it the "best American horror film in the last 20 years" I was skeptical knowing his history of overpraising mainstream fluff.  If the statement is a bit of an exaggeration (and as much a testament to all the inferior horror films we've suffered through), it isn't much of one. Nothing about this movie feels mainstream and it's too intelligent to ever be mistaken for the latest Hollywood cash-in slasher remake. If nothing else, it teaches the lesson that the best movies are rarely about what they're actually about and horror can't truly unsettle unless you care about the characters and their situation. Let Me In gets this right, proving all remakes don't have to be pointless and aren't necessarily destined to fail.

Kick-Ass

Director: Matthew Vaughn
Starring: Aaron Johnson, Christopher Mintz-Plasse, Chloe Grace Moretz, Nicolas Cage, Mark Strong
Running Time: 114 min.
Rating: R

★★★ 1/2 (out of ★★★★)

The superhero, comic book satire Kick-Ass fully succeeds at what it's trying to accomplish just as long as you don't think too hard at what that is. But I didn't care. It's a glorious mess of a movie that's tonally all over the map, playing as both a laugh out loud comedy and a hard R-rated testosterone-fueled action vehicle, making it easy to see why it didn't connect with a mass audience. But it's also easy to see how those very same qualities help make it it work so well as I'm not sure this was intended for large-scale commercial consumption to begin with. During the first hour I was a little confused at the angle from which writer/director Matthew Vaughn was approaching the material and he does jam too much story in, but that's eventually cleared up as it comes together in thrilling ways.

Top to bottom to the casting and performances are rock solid right down to even the smallest, throwaway roles but there's only one that's downright astonishing, and it's all anyone will be talking about. Lost amidst all the controversy surrounding Hit Girl is the hard work it must have taken on the part of this young actress to give us 2010's most polarizing and memorable screen character. The only thing that would have held this adaptation of Mark Millar's 2008 comic book back would be pulling punches. Thankfully, Vaughn refuses to compromise and the result is a movie that will piss off some but entertain many more who can appreciate its dark humor.

The idea that superheroes can just be ordinary people wanting to help but also struggling with their own personal issues has been explored in films like Spider-Man, Iron Man and the Batman movies. Geeky teenager Dave Lizewski (Aaron Johnson) has probably seen all of those multiple times and read the comics and now he's asking himself why no one has ever decided to become a real-life superhero. Barely existing at school and having absolutely no chance with his longtime crush, Katie (Lyndsy Fonseca), he orders a silly superhero costume from the internet and hits the streets, taking the law into his own hands. Unfortunately, he gets his ass kicked. A lot. When he becomes a worldwide You-Tube sensation after trying to save a victim from a gang attack, he adopts the masked identity of "Kick-Ass" and attracts the unwanted attention of mob boss Frank D'Amico (Mark Strong) who sees him as major threat to his organization. But in the process he gains the appreciation and services of Damon and Mindy MacCready (Nicolas Cage and Chloe Moretz), father and daughter gun experts who when in costume transform into the crime fighting duo known as "Big Daddy" and "Hit Girl." Big Daddy harbors a personal grudge against D'Amico and isn't above using his vigilante daughter or Kick-Ass as a means of settling it. A fourth superhero, the goofy Red Mist (Superbad's Christopher Mintz-Plasse) enters the picture as a potential sidekick with sneaky ulterior motives.

At first, it appears the primary focus of the film is supposed to be the evolution of this geek into the crime-fighting Kick-Ass, but Vaughn tries to cram a million different things in the first hour with the other two sub-plots before joining them so it seems to take a little bit to get there. Because of this the pacing initially seems sluggis as Vaughn lingers on the detailed origin story while cutting back and forth between the mob stuff and the father/daughter relationship (easily the most compelling story thread of the three). But it's impossible to complain since it all works and so much more is done right. The journey Dave takes isn't much different than Peter Parker's in the Spider-Man movies, only replacing the power and responsibility with bad luck. He's just a kid getting beat up every night in a silly costume who lands on the internet. This opens up an interesting commentary on how people are more than willing to watch and be entertained by real violence than make any any attempt to stop it themselves. That fact that's he's essentially just playing dress-up not only makes the film funnier, but adds suspense because he's always in legitimate danger.

But enough about him. The real reason to see the movie is Hit Girl played by Chloe Grace Moretz, who up until now was best known for playing the bluntly honest, wise-cracking little sister in (500) Days of Summer. This is that part with the volume amped up times two hundred. Nothing can fully prepare you for what she does here as a masked assassin every bit as dangerous and no less believable than Christian Bale in The Dark Knight or Uma Thurman in Kill Bill. It's hilarious, but also invites the question of whether the sight of an 11-year-old foul-mouthed murderer is disturbing even within the confines of satire. Yes it is, but it's supposed to make you uncomfortable and the fact that her father is not only raising a vigilante killer but destroying her childhood to settle a grudge and likely causing her irreversible psychological harm isn't ignored. Despite delivering her shocking dialogue (and beatings) with the poise and confidence of actors double her age as Hit Girl, it's that detail Moretz never ignores in her performance as Mindy.

You can just picture Quentin Tarantino sitting on his couch furiously sketching ideas for Kill Bill Vol. 3 with The Bride vs. Hit Girl, whose fight scenes are probably the most impressively choreographed we've seen on screen since those two films of Tarantino's. John Murphy's adrenaline-pumping score, as well as the other perfectly placed tracks from Joan Jett, Gnarls Barkley and The Prodigy only help to further fuel the energy level. While no one even comes close to matching Moretz, Cage gets second place, giving a performance inspired by Adam West from the 1960's Batman television series. Has there ever been a better inspiration for a part? Crazy Cage dressed as Batman. Playing it like Adam West. And it's just as insane as you'd imagine, earning the actor immunity from me ever writing a negative word about him again, and maybe even forgiveness for Ghost Rider and Next. While a small role, it finally answers that nagging question of how Cage would fare as a superhero, with the result being overwhelmingly favorable. This is him at his absolute best and a reminder just how great he can be when given a well-written character that fully capitalizes on his zaniness.

Relative newcomer Aaron Johnson would have made a likable Peter Parker if Tobey Maguire wasn't available and that's pretty much the role he's playing here. Surprisingly, the screenplay even finds a way to throw a clever, original twist into the usually tired superhero sub-plot of a geek pining after the hot, popular girl. And after this and Hot Tub Time Machine it seems as if Lyndsey Fonseca is now that go-to girlfriend these days in comedy, which is fine by me since she's really good at it. Even David's comic book obsessed friends (played by Clark Duke and Evan Peters) are actually funny, adding levity to the plot when needed without coming off as unnecessary filler. As Red Mist, Mintz-Plasse is basically McLuvin' in a costume and that's exactly what's called for in his part. The movie isn't perfect and at 114 minutes could have probably used an extra trim in the editing room since it feels slightly longer than that, but the performance of Moretz and the character of Hit Girl is the movie and everything else falls into place because of it.

I can't understand anyone getting bent out of shape that this is "morally reprehensible" or "goes too far," especially with an "R" rating clearly slapped on it and in a year where the majority of entertainment has been aimed at the PG crowd, with many options to choose from. No one's forcing anyone to see it. After a cruel bludgeoning of Twilight movies, cash-grabbing remakes, and 3D junk, we've earned at least one hardcore, balls-to-the wall movie that doesn't play it safe and Vaughn deserves his vision being released as it was intended without the morality police throwing a fit. It's a testament to how frighteningly believable Moretz is in the role that it's caused so much controversy. Hit Girl deserves her own movie and Kick-Ass earns its sequel, surpassing in quality many of the superhero films it's satirizing.