Tomas Alfredson's Let the Right One In is that rare piece of cinema that challenges the viewer beyond the walls of the theater. It is a peculiar little movie that will not let go. And, it's a film that I have been dying to discuss with those lucky enough to have seen this festival gem.

Superficially, this is a horror film about an alienated young man, Oskar, played smartly by Kare Hedebrant, bullied in his school and detached from his parents. Hidden in his coat is a knife that, when alone, becomes the tool of his revenge. As he stands, knife in hand, challenging his invisible torturers in the courtyard of his apartment building, he receives a dark gift in the form of Eli (Lina Leandersson).

Eli is the friend Oskar has been searching for - an outcast herself, she is intrigued by Oskar just as he is by her. Their moment of bonding comes over a Rubik's cube, but it quickly becomes a real relationship, constructed in moments under Alfredson's deft hand. Eli's peculiar habits, such as only coming out at night, woefully under dressed for the harsh elements, and her odd smell and pale demeanor, lead Oskar to the conclusion the audience has been in on from the outset. Eli is a vampire.

Her protector, an older gentleman who appears to have genuine care for Eli, has been gathering food for her, creating a stir in the community as some of the townspeople go missing and some are found, drained of blood. The town is on edge, and a little girl has been seen attacking grown men. The town is becoming a dangerous place for Eli. Even as Oskar stands up for himself in one of the film's strikingly sudden and harsh moments, his fascination with Eli grows.

To reveal anything about the film's last act is to give away some delightful moments and a few horrible ones. What Alfredson and screenwriter John Ajvide Lindqvist (who also wrote the novel) have done with Let the Right One In is to present a pre-pubescent relationship honestly, filled with moments that are incredibly tender, and layered them with an element of horror that makes the film not only tragic, but terrifying in its implications. The film exists outside the borders of the screen, and I have spent some time imagining Eli's life before, and the life after the film ends with genuine dread.

Let the Right One In is a film of beauty, despite some graphic imagery. Most of the real violence takes place off-screen, but that only drives the sensation of dread higher as the film unfolds. It is elegant and awful, with a conclusion that is haunting beneath the sweetness. That, perhaps, is this film's greatest achievement - to mask its horror with the bittersweet love of youth, a sex-less, uncomplicated relationship that exists in memory for all of us able to grow up. For Eli and poor Oskar, it's a love that continues. But for how long, and, frighteningly, to what end?

As a brief footnote, it is hard not to compare this film with the hit vampire love affair Twilight. Beyond the obvious similarity, that of a romance between a vampire and a human, there is little in common between these two films. Where Twilight is a clearly American, somewhat vapid take on the subject matter, Let the Right One In manages to be a film of depth and lingering horror. Let the Right One In is a film to be seen and discussed, insisting upon a real life after the lights rise in the theater. Twilight's impact lasts about as long as the popcorn munched when viewing it. Alfredson's film is stunning in its quiet, illuminating in its brutality and perhaps the best film of 2008. See it.

community as some of the townspeople go missing and some are found, drained of blood. The town is on edge, and a little girl has been seen attacking grown men. The town is becoming a dangerous place for Eli. Even as Oskar stands up for himself in one of the film's strikingly sudden and harsh moments, his fascination with Eli grows.