SKYLIN3S DIRECTOR LIAM O’DONNELL LETS LET THE RIGHT ONE IN IN FOR THE FIRST TIME

I definitely have some embarrassingly great movies sitting in my queue judging me as I watch Predator

again for the 100th time. That said, I felt pretty good that I’d seen most of Empire’s list of suggested First Take Club titles. Of those remaining, I naturally chose the only horror movie I hadn’t seen yet. I remember when Tomas Alfredson’s Let The Right One In came out and was at the top of many of my favourite film writers’ Best Of The Year lists. It’s curious why I didn’t seek it out then, but looking back, my 2008 self was pretty swept up in the heavy metal and Hans Zimmer of Iron Man and The Dark Knight respectively, so maybe it was for the best I waited 12 years to fully appreciate it.

For this first-time watch, I’d just come out of a double feature of my latest movie Skylin3s,

watching it in two different screening rooms before signing off on the final delivery to our distributor. So while my eyes were tired, the contrast between my bright, loud headbanger and Let The Right One In’s

quiet, haunting poetry was most welcome. The gore and violence in my films tends to be exaggerated and at times, decidedly ridiculous. I think

I make it this way so that it feels strangely safe, fun and reassuring. Aliens ripping brains out and tearing people in half gives me a giddy smile each time, whereas Let The

Right One In’s gore and violence, especially in the first half, is so grounded and sometimes even banal that it was always deeply unsettling.

Maybe that’s as it should be?

The cinematography, editing and performances are all patient and deliberate while never feeling slow or dull. It’s so confident that it has a great story to tell that the film doesn’t need to raise its voice; you need to lean in. The camerawork is constantly playing with reflections, shooting through glass and most of all perspective, especially for the moments of violence. The first abduction in the park is shot in a lock-off wide shot. The audience becomes voyeurs, forced to peer through the snowy trees as the older man abducts a victim for Eli. We time-cut later with the victim strung up and now we’re part of the crime. The old man is methodical and passionless in his process. We don’t linger on the gore. It’s a chore to him, after all. So much so that when he was interrupted I felt more disappointment for him in not completing his task than any horror at what he had done.

How have I gone this long without talking about how incredible the young leads are in this? Their work here is otherworldly. I was struck by small moments like Oskar smelling his divorced father’s sweater on his weekend visit and haunted by Eli’s advice: “Hit back. Hard. Harder than you dare.” The violence that ensues from her urging again is staged in wide angle lock-off where we watch the bullies corner Oskar on an icy pond. The build-up is shot intimately on Oskar and the bullies’ faces… but when our protagonist finally stands his ground, we are back watching from a distance over the ice. And yet the moment retains so much impact and, dare I say, satisfaction.

Without spoiling the ending for anyone, the gruesome finale climaxes in two masterful shots that tell you everything you need to know. The first is on Oskar’s face as he fights to stay alive. The second is another wide lock-off that shows the end results, mixing shock, awe and horror with that strange, lingering sense of satisfaction.

For a film about child predators, there are some shots and scenes and implications that went beyond unsettling to me and could be triggering for others. I don’t want to come across as a pearl-clutching moralist, but I did find myself repulsed at times. Maybe that’s why

I tend to gravitate towards the relative safety of loud, exaggerated violence. I am quite easily frightened by the grounded everyday acts of cruelty that real monsters are capable of. Then again, perhaps my tastes are more morally ruinous anyway, desensitising us to real violence by making it stylised fun? I guess we all cope with this in our own ways.

As upsetting as this film could be, it is a daring piece of work that refuses to shy away from the darkness and all of its sinister implications. The filmmaking lessons it has to teach are well worth the at-times harrowing experience.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I could go for viewing 101 of Predator. SKYLIN3S IS IN CINEMAS AND ON DIGITAL FROM 18 DECEMBER