The Book Tower

Although I’d heard horror stories about the nineteen hour flight to Australia I can safely confirm that it was a breeze. Twelve hours from Heathrow to Singapore is dulled by video on demand, and a menu of Star Trek, Watchmen, The Boat That Rocked and In the Loop made it literally fly by. Less attractive was the amount of babies on our flight, who were less impressed with the in-flight entertainment.

Singapore is a brief changeover, allowing for smokers and those in need of a more quality toilet. The flight from Singapore to Sydney is a mere six hours, hardly anything for those now seasoned in long haul flights, although I made this part of the journey hard for myself by having a glass of wine and attempting to understand Scorsese’s The Departed. No matter. Before I knew it we had landed in Sydney.

Despite being ripped off by a taxi driver, my impression of Sydney was not blighted. It’s a beautiful city. Just emerging bleary eyed from the Australian winter, the mornings are cool and sunny with days of brilliant sunshine and clear blue sky. And no insects to annoy, this really is my idea of a perfect winter. Our hotel was well situated, within walking distance of the harbour and we took in the obvious Opera House and ferry tours, where the Aussie guides relished in their terrible tales of shark attacks. True, there hasn’t been a fatality from a shark attack since the early 60s, but there have been plenty of what I’d describe as near misses, such as the diver who lost a hand recently (or a foot, or both – depending on who you listen to).

As with all my visits to major cities, I seek out the highest buildings – in Sydney’s case a rather impressive sky tower that offers an amazing view of the rather attractive surrounding area. The aquarium is also worth a visit, and if you’re feeling adventurous I also recommend a trip out to the Blue Mountains (renewing its fame recently with the saga of the lost British backpacker).

Alas my time in Sydney was all too brief, but there are greater adventures to come…

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A very brief post from Australia which I aim to complete before my $4 credit expires in this very noisy internet booth.

I am currently enjoying the spoof memoir Me Cheeta by James Lever and hope to post a glowing review when I return. Less impressive was Peter Carey’s His Illegal Self which I failed to finish. The Lost Dog by Michelle de Kretser was well written but ultimately became another book where nothing happens. But high on this year’s list go Breath by Tim Winton, The Songlines by Bruce Chatwin and The Slap by Christos Tsiolkas which may well become my novel of the year.

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What does a filmmaker with a thirst for the vampire movie do when audiences are dulled by the Twilight franchise?

Tomas Alfredson’s Let the Right One In provides an answer. This is a beautifully shot and thoughtful film that is part coming of age love story and part horror movie. The Swedish director takes aspects of the vampire legend and moves them to early 1980s Stockholm, where tower apartments are eerily lit by bright, white, virgin snow.

Oskar (Kåre Hedebrant) is a sensitive twelve-year old boy tormented by his peers who befriends the unarguably odd Eli (Lina Leandersson). This is a girl who lurks around in dark corners to prey on the unsuspecting, so it’s in Oskar’s favour when the lonely lad finds some affinity with her. They form a friendship, of sorts, that appears to lead to something stronger. The most unusual of cinema’s adolescent love affairs as Eli is something quite unwordly.

Although this is essentially a horror film, and an at times unsettling one, Alfredson mainly concentrates on Oskar’s loneliness; his bullying and the seperation of his parents. Eli acts as a catalyst for Oskar to stand up against his enemies, and the story works best when exploring his journey there. And once he does arrive, the film is unambiguous as to whether he is actually any better off after sealing his fate with Eli. It’s an unusual movie, and describing it as bleak and depressing failed to set any of my friends alight with enthusiasm. I hope they don’t wait for the impending Hollywood remake, which may pointlessly turn it into another boring teen vampire movie (and they have already messed up by renaming it Let Me In). However bleak and depressing it is, Alfredson’s film certainly isn’t dull.

Let the Right One In has plenty of disturbingly effective scenes that you’d expect from a horror film. There’s the best use of cats in the genre since The Uncanny, where a flat full of the sensitive creatures take a unanimous dislike to a newly infected vampire. The film also makes a memorable and spectacular use of a swimming pool setting, where Eli proves her attachment to Oskar. Kind of. And there’s a very touching although certainly offbeat ending too. Although I admit that my taste in cinema is often odd, I found this a refreshing film. It’s challenging and consequently very rewarding. The leads were particularly superb, especially Leandersson, who just needs to learn the finer points of napkin etiquette.

Incidentally this is based on the 1994 novel by John Ajvide Lindqvist, which in turn took part of its inspiration from a 1988 Morrissey song Let the Right One Slip In. Those immersed in vampire folklore will be aware that the undead cannot enter your home until invited, although I think this is only a minor comfort. Like Oskar, we may suddenly and unexpectedly meet our own Eli.

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