Soft and gentle Oskar
could not be found at the Abbey tonight. It is hard and sometimes unfair to
compare an adaptation with a very accomplished original. Let the Right One In (Tomas Alfredson, 2008) is one of those gems
people hesitate to recommend, but never because of its lack of quality and only
perhaps due to how odd or inadequate it feels at times.
Let the Right One In opens with the story of Oskar, a quiet kid who
is systematically bullied at school. Not an original topic. But see, the only
friend Oskar manages to get close to and keep is Eli, a slightly older girl who
incidentally needs to be fed blood to survive.
John Lindqvist's script is
a difficult one to stage. Adapted by Jack Thorne with choreography by Steven
Hoggett, it is the story of a young girl condemned to lose the love of her life
over and over. Some may say it is also problematic to make into a film, since the
girl’s life partner’s character could be misinterpreted easily. The horrors of
her double life and her need for blood are challenges this production at the
Abbey accepts and presents successfully to a more than frightened and engaged audience.
Be aware, my companion at the play got accidentally slapped on the face by the
lady sitting next to him at one of the jumpy bits.
On stage we found
without difficulty the animalistic impulse that makes Eli an unsettling friend
for Oskar. We discover too, how isolated and detached the boy feels as his relationships
with those around him get icy, no matter if they are family or school mates. The
lucky charm for Alfredson’s production was a couple of young actors whose
natural ability and undeniable chemistry made of the 2008 film an appealing and
delightful coming-of-age story. But Oskar’s hesitant voice was nowhere to be
found on the Abbey stage, neither was Eli’s angst and profound sadness. Craig
Connolly attempts to convey the naiveté and enthusiasm of Oskar but he is far
from Kåre Hedebrant’s performance. Katie Hunan misses the serenity and maturity
that Lina Leandersson gave to Eli. Are these elements missing only because of a
much older cast?
The stage design (Christine
Jones) and effects deserve great credit in this adaptation. The snow covered forest, where
terrible things are about to change Oskar’s town forever, is a wonderful
background and resourceful backdrop to express the coldness and desolation most
characters suffer throughout the story. Winter trees and a climbing frame that
holds one of the most impressive visual artifices of this production offers in
its final scene, are the basic elements that remain visible. Others such as the
candy shop, Oskar’s bed or the gym lockers are brought in with subtlety and discreet
flow with the help of Hoggett’s choreography.
Thorne’s adaptation translates
well the horror elements onto stage, almost impeccably, with some exceptions
such as its last scene. Despite the marvelous ace in the sleeve of designer
Jones in the closing scene, the spectator is at risk of feeling overwhelmed by
the strident lighting and disco effects. A pity the play does not leave room
for the imagination in its final moment.
