Let Me In: A Tale of Blood, Friendship, and Awkward Adolescence
Picture this: a gloomy, snow-covered town in the 1980s, where the only thing colder than the weather is the social life of our protagonist, Owen. This kid is the poster child for loneliness, living with a mom who’s about as emotionally available as a brick wall and getting bullied at school by kids who clearly missed the memo on kindness. Enter Abby, the mysterious girl who appears out of nowhere, like a shadowy figure in a teen drama. Spoiler alert: she’s not just your average girl-next-door.
Owen, who spends his days plotting revenge against his bullies (seriously, he’s got a whole notebook dedicated to it), finds solace in his budding friendship with Abby. She’s the kind of friend who really gets him—mostly because she’s been around since the dawn of time and has seen all the awkwardness of adolescence play out a hundred times before. But here’s the kicker: Abby is not just a little different; she’s actually a vampire. And not the sparkly kind, either. She’s more of a “I need blood to survive and my caretaker might be a serial killer” type.
As their friendship blossoms, Owen starts to notice some unusual things about Abby. For starters, she’s got a serious aversion to sunlight. I mean, who doesn’t enjoy a little vitamin D? But Abby? She’d rather hang out in the dark, which is a huge red flag unless you’re a cat or a vampire. Owen, being the lovestruck boy he is, doesn’t mind much. He’s just happy to have someone who understands his pain—though he might not be thrilled about the whole “draining the life out of people” aspect of their friendship.
Now, let’s talk about Abby’s caretaker, who is essentially the world’s least qualified blood donor. This guy goes around committing murder to keep Abby fed. Yep, you heard that right. He’s like the worst Uber driver ever, but instead of giving you a ride, he’s giving you a one-way ticket to the afterlife. His methods are as subtle as a brick through a window, and the townsfolk are starting to catch on, which is not great news for Abby’s diet plans.
As Owen and Abby’s bond deepens, things get complicated. Owen’s school life doesn’t improve much—his bullies are still lurking, ready to pounce on any sign of weakness. But Abby, in a rare display of affection, helps him stand up to them in a way that’s both heartwarming and horrifying. Think of it as a lesson in self-defense, but with a side of bloodshed. It’s a coming-of-age story with a twist that’s more twisted than a pretzel.
In the end, after a series of unfortunate (and bloody) events, Owen must make a choice: stay with Abby in her dark, bloodthirsty world or try to lead a normal life without her. Spoiler alert: he chooses Abby, because who wouldn’t want to be friends with a centuries-old vampire? They ride off into the night together, leaving behind a trail of bodies and a lot of unanswered questions. It’s like the ultimate teen romance, but with more neck-biting and less moonlit strolls.
So, if you’re looking for a film that combines the trials of adolescence with a healthy dose of horror, “Let Me In” is your ticket. Just remember, next time you’re feeling lonely, maybe don’t invite the mysterious girl with a taste for blood into your life. Or do. Who are we to judge?