Movie Notes: The Suppression of Sexuality and Puberty in “Let the Right One In”
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
As is often the case, Stephen Patrick Morrissey has said it long before anyone else has. Of course, it could only be the bard, someone who once avowed that he was asexual, who could have prophesied the themes explored in Tomas Alfredson's "Let the Right One In." First of all, we give props to Manohla Dargis in her review because she got the title's reference from the start - that's why we all love her so. But she glossed over the crux of Morrissey's persona - sexuality, or supposed lack thereof, in all its ambiguous glory.So onwards to the Word of Moz shall we?
(*NOTE: There are spoilers here.)
Let the right one in
Let the old dreams die
Let the wrong ones go
They cannot
They cannot
They cannot do what you want them to do
Oh ...
Let the right one in
Let the old dreams die
Let the wrong ones go
They do not
They do not
They do not see what you want them to
Oh ...
Let the right one in
Let the old things fade
Put the tricks and schemes (for good) away
Ah ... I will advise
Ah ... Until my mouth dries
Ah ... I will advise you to ...
Ah ... let the right one slip in
Slip in
Slip in
And when at last it does
I'd say you were within your rights to bite
The right one and say, "what kept you so long ?"
"What kept you so long ?"
Oh ...
Not to say that the song by itself encapsulates the whole of of the movie but it gives us and may have even given the writer, John Ajvide Lindqvist, a fertile starting point from which to begin.
At the end of the film, the dangling question in my head was whether or not we had in fact, actually seen the beginning of the story. This made me wonder if Eli was in fact quite as innocent as we (including Oskar) were led to believe. The movie may play as a sort of love story, but really, this pseudo happy ending actually points us toward Oskar's inevitably gloomy fate, the same as Hakan (Eli's caretaker, once lover or steady).
Flashback to the scene where Hakan comes back empty handed. We're not sure who is talking, but based on the logline, we can guess it's the vampire. And knowing what we know going into the theater, we know the middled aged, Hakan, is being berated by what should be a young girl. We notice an upended power structure - something that will keep coming up. The mature vindictiveness with which he is chastised takes us by surprise. The hierarchy is clear here: Hakan is vassal to the Virgin Queen, almighty.
From the start, we're introduced to Hakan's impotence, his inability to fill his role as hunter / gatherer. In fact, later on in the movie when Hakan goes out for another blood-run, he rhetorically asks, "what use am I?" Well, he gets the answer later: if he can't procure blood from somebody, his body must supply the blood.
The film takes pains to mirror Hakan with Oskar - their knifeplay, their social awkwardness, and the power Eli has over them. Remember, ladies and gentlemen, the vampire always seduces, and those beings they do not turn into food or vampires are always their slaves.
In this light, this courtship between Oskar and Eli is more like a seduction by the vampire, knowing that Hakan's usefulness had come to an end, she reaches out for a new slave. Remember, Eli's been twelve years old for a long time. How long? There may be a hint. In her apartment, Eli points out what looks to be some form of Faberge egg. The first egg was created in 1885. She may not be Anastasia (who was sixteen when she disappeared), but those eggs are hard to get a hold of these days if you get my meaning. So what I'm saying is that she must've gone through a few different Hakans and Oskars during her tenure as a vampire.
The intriguing thing about the relationship between Eli and Oskar is their sexual ambiguity. There are all kinds of signs here that muddles things up. It's hard to tell what sex Eli or Oskar is in the first place, and even when we do know this, there are constant equivocal reminders placed throughout the film to confuse us. For instance, there are quite a number times where Eli asks Oskar if he'd still like her if she wasn't a girl (this we're to understand as her way of telling him she's a vampire). There's also the not so subtle hint that Oskar's father is gay and this might be the reason why Oskar's answer to Eli's question is that it doesn't matter if she's not a girl.
But the real reason why it doesn't matter is because we meet Oskar before the onset of puberty and Eli, who may have reached puberty before she became a vampire (we discover this because the director slips in a few frames of her naked body as Oskar's POV when Eli changes) must live in a state of suppressed sexuality in order to survive. The relationship between the two will only work if Oskar gives up his masculinity, his sexuality, becomes eunich like Hakan once did.
It gets a bit complicated here, but I think we can manage.
First Oskar. As Oskar's confidence grows with Eli's help, we discover that his empowerment is purely negative. Oskar's confidence grows only based on his ability to say "no." There are disastrous results to this. Each time Oskar says no, in fact, a body shows up.
We get to the scene where Oskar brings Eli to the teenager's hideout. Not knowing that they're supposed to make out, Oskar instead cuts himself in order to make a blood bond with Eli. Well this masculine act of violence, instead reveals Eli's true nature as a vampire.
Next take the scene where Eli drops by Oskar's place. Throughout the movie, we're reminded that a vampire needs permission to cross the threshold of a house. They need permission to transgress. Oskar still hopped up on his own testosterone doesn't give Eli permission and here is where the real seduction takes place: Eli performs the transgression, and as a result, she well, secretes blood - which will kill her. As a vampire, her whole point in life is to maintain a sort of menstrual constipation - she is not allowed to release blood from her body, she must disallow this cleansing and also in effect disallow her fertility, suspending her sexuality. In order to save Eli's life (as it were), Oskar must allow her into his home. Do you see what's happening here? The classic roles of male and female are reversed here when he allows Eli to enter into the sanctum of his home. By allowing Eli into him, in a sense, he stops the bleeding and thereby stops Eli from crossing the threshold of puberty. Once more, Oskar says, "no." How fitting that he would then offer Eli his mother's dress to change into now that there is no chance of any other relationship between them.
And while on the face of it, the film may seem like a coming-of-age love story, I'll argue against it and say that the film is a parable exploring the dangers of suppressing growth, whether it be sexual or social growth. Roger Ebert gets close when he says:
Remove the vampire elements, and this is the story of two lonely and desperate kids capable of performing dark deeds without apparent emotion. Kids washed up on the shores of despair.
But Morrissey hit it on the nail when he described how complex things can be when you wrap up sexual ambiguity along with isolation and depression experienced by the outcasts of this world.
Having said all this, I'd recommend taking a look at the film again and considering this time around the themes of sexual ambivalence and suppression which I think is what really disturbs the audience when they see the relationship developing between these twelve year olds.
P.S. While researching a bit I found an article about real life clinical vampires. Not related per se, but outrageously interesting: "Human Living Vampires - What Investigators Need to Know"
