"Let the Right One In" at Berkeley Rep

 

Berkeley Rep production photo by Kevin Berne

As part of our rushing around, trying to catch up on all the local shows in our subscriptions before they close, we scrambled in to see Let the Right One In at Berkeley Rep just before it closed. Clearly, I had not been paying much attention, as I went in knowing essentially nothing about this play, or the movie it was based on. I suppose had I been better prepared, my reaction might have been different, but overall, I think my impression is valid.

The Play

The play is an adaptation by Jack Thorne (yes, the same one who wrote The Motive and the Cue, which we just saw in London!) of the Swedish novel and film by John Ajvide Lindqvist. Though I had never heard of either, apparently the film is kind of a cult classic, but in a genre I don't pay attention to. So I found myself pretty baffled by a lot of what was going on.

It turns out this is a vampire story (though they carefully avoid using that term for some reason). Oskar, a 12-year-old, bullied social outcast meets Eli, who appears to be about the same age, in the playground outside his home. Eli sort of presents as female, but really falls into the non-binary category, and indeed, self-describes as neither a boy nor a girl, but "nothing". Eli lives with Hakan, who it turns out has been harvesting people in the woods to provide blood for Eli, which causes terror among the locals.

When events finally catch up with Hakan, Eli needs someone new to rely on, and coincidentally, Oskar needs someone to protect him from the bullies. A match made in, um, Sweden, I guess.

I've never been a fan of vampire stories or horror movies much, though I realize they have wide appeal. I get the whole vampire as metaphor for queerness thing, which is fine. I just don't enjoy watching all the gore and bullying and such. But that's what we've got. I probably would have opted out of seeing this show had I realized what it was, but since I saw it, you get to read my reactions.

The Production

This is a well-done show. The set by Christine Jones is elegant in its simplicity, though the locals seem to spend a lot of time pondering the trees and snow, considering they live there all the time. Director John Tiffany seems to want to make sure we notice that everyone is aware that there are trees and it's snowing. And groups of actors seem to spontaneously start dancing in unison (with movement choreographed by associate director Stephen Hoggett). As I have doubtless mentioned often, I'm not a big dance fan--I don't really understand it--and it doesn't seem to add much to the show, though many people seemed to enjoy it. Similarly, the weird contortions of Eli (Noah Lamanna) apparently evoke "vampire" in the minds of those in the know. I mean, it's impressive and I guess well done, but I'm sure there are other ways to convey the otherness and the physical cravings of a hungry vampire. But subtlety is not a hallmark of the horror genre.

So anyway, it's hard for me to see the relationship between Eli and Oskar (Diego Lucano) as anything but another instance of someone taking advantage of Oskar's weaknesses. 

The Bottom Line

I feel like this is happening a lot lately, but this seems like yet another show that appeals to a particular audience (which is good), but not to me (which is fine). I wish I'd known that going in, since I might well have foregone this particular experience, knowing that it's something I generally dislike. On the plus side, it was nice to see a lot of people in the theater that are not generally there. And indeed, a friend who ushers at Berkeley Rep confirms that they're pulling in a much younger audience for this show. That's great!

But unlike a show such as last week's Yerma at Shotgun, where I can appreciate the show on some levels, this genre just feels very exclusive. Although I can appreciate that some audience members like seeing this kind of story, and maybe even relate to some of the characters, I struggle to see what anyone else (i.e., me) is supposed to get out of the experience. But this is why I keep going to the theater: new experiences, new questions. It's not always pleasant for me, but it's interesting to see what people are doing and think about why and how.

But I'll pass on the horror/vampire play next time.