If you, like millions of others, plan on heading into Dawn of the Planet of the Apes this weekend ready to gobble up yet another action-heavy summer mega movie, expect to get way more than you bargained for: Dawn is a sophisticated, emotional picture that explores complex themes with nuance and precision. The film asks that you keep your moral compass handy at all times, as quandaries of  trust and loyalty are constantly in play. But don’t let the heavy stuff scare you away; there are enough apes riding horses, talking apes, apes swigging bottles of hard liquor, and apes driving army tanks to satiate even the hungriest Hollywood action junkies.

The Planet of the Apes series is no stranger to social commentary, with previous installments tackling difficult topics like racism and, in Dawn‘s excellent predecessor, Rise of the Planet of the Apes, animal cruelty and genetic experimentation. Here, director Matt Reeves examines the nature of war, (Let Me In) plotting out intimately the inception of a bloody conflict between man and ape.

In an opening sequence that resembles a very expensive version of the popular mobile “outbreak” game Plague Inc., we learn that, ten years after the events of Rise, the human race is dangerously close to eradication due to the spread of “Simian Flu”. In San Francisco lies a small pocket of humanity fighting for survival in a post-plague world where foliage-covered city streets and concrete buildings are being reclaimed by nature. They’re led by Dreyfus (Gary Oldman), a man devoted to human preservation, and the noble, intrepid Malcolm (Jason Clarke). On the other side of the Golden Gate Bridge (which served as a key human/ape battleground in Rise) is Caesar (played again by Andy Serkis via motion capture), who since the last movie has built a thriving community of fellow apes and led them to a harmonious existence, tucked away in the towering redwoods of Marin County. Back from the first film are Maurice, the affable voice of wisdom, and Koba, Caesar’s vengeful, human-hating second-in-command.

Caesar’s fallen in love, had a son, and developed the ability to speak English quite well. His verbal skills are put to good use when a small group of humans, led by Malcolm, accidentally wander into ape territory seeking a dam that could restore power to their struggling community. Separated from the group, a trigger-happy asshole (Kirk Acevedo) shoots a young ape named Ash, and the humans are quickly surrounded by the furious ape clan. Instead of ordering his followers to rip Malcolm and his party to shreds, Caesar instead shows mercy, and in a gravelly roar orders the trespassers to “GO!!!”

In a series of exquisitely plotted events, we see Malcolm and Caesar attempt to cooperate and quell the rising tensions between their respective parties. Fueled by fear, jealousy, paranoia, and obsession, the barrier of peace breaks down, and violence erupts. In hindsight, the chess moves and character trajectories are all crystal clear, but in the moment, nothing is obvious or distractingly predictable. That’s because the film is too smart for that. The decision by Reeves and his writers to put good and bad people on both sides of the conflict is thoughtful and gives the film real emotional richness. In the end, Dawn is about the virtue of empathy, and only by giving both the humans and apes a fair shake does the message pervade.

The Transformers films would be leagues better if only Optimus and the Autobots were the main protagonists instead of the human characters. In this respect, Dawn is a treasure, as Caesar (a CGI creation, mind you) and the apes are given center stage. The beauty of the special effects that bring Caesar to life is that they disappear almost immediately. Once we’re convinced that what we see on screen is a living, breathing, talking ape, Serkis is free to do his real work. His performance is stunning and astonishingly intimate: while the Transformers are all about spectacle and fireworks, the apes are all about mannerisms, emotion, and communication. In a late scene between Caesar and his son, whose ideals clash throughout the film, the two share a poignant, tearful reconciliation, shot in close-up by Reeves. Not for a second are the visual effects unconvincing, nor the scene not entirely gripping.

Both Clarke and Oldman are on-the-money, and Keri Russell is likable as Malcolm’s wife, though unfortunately her role is so thinly drawn and disposable it escapes the mind quickly after leaving the theater. The tidal wave of action in the film’s final act is rightly ridiculous at times (is anything more ridiculous than an ape riding a horse, brandishing machine guns in both hands?) and totally thrilling. (The rest of the film ratchets the stakes up so sky high that it had to be so.) A more lurid depiction of war would have benefited the film greatly (most kills are either off-screen or obscured by distance), but the grand set pieces are far from disappointing.

Dawn of the Planet of the Apes is better than its predecessor, and that’s saying a lot. Though it juggles multiple characters struggling with inner conflicts inside of a larger external conflict, the film never feels unstable, confusing, or lopsided. It’s a surprisingly depressing movie, especially for a summer blockbuster, as it reveals the ugliest facets of human nature and the dire consequences they bear. However, the film feels alive, with moments of exhilaration, levity, and surprise that offset the dark, heady themes and lead it to a tonal sweet-spot that few big-budget films have the consideration to aspire to. Hail Caesar!

Dawn of the Planet of the Apes trailer

Let Me In is an American remake of the Swedish original called Let the Right One In. The film restores faith to those who thought an American vampire film done well was impossible. I must confess that I am not a huge fan of vampire films nor have I seen the original Swedish version, which in return makes it all the more impressive that I found it so entertaining.

Let Me In had a lot going against it from the start. First of all, any time you do a remake you already have an unfair disadvantage, a classic damned if you do damned if you don’t scenario. If you do not change enough from the original, people will argue that the film is too similar. If you change too much, people will think you destroyed the original vision. Most of the time you cannot win and the original is almost always better.

The second thing Let Me In had going against it, is that not only is it a remake, it is an American made remake. Modern day American horror cinema is not exactly looked highly upon by horror film buffs. Lastly, the vampire genre has hit mainstream audiences with cheesy teenage romance films like Twilight, making vampire based films hard to take serious.

Even with all of the above setbacks, Let Me In overcomes each one with relative ease. It proves that Hollywood can produce a solid horror film. Although, some might not even call it a horror film but rather a thriller or even a romance film. In reality, it is a combination of all of those.

Let Me In takes place in Los Alamos, New Mexico in the winter of 1983. 12-year-old Owen (Kodi Smit-McPhee) is raised by his divorcee mother, does not have any friends, enjoys playing with his Rubik’s Cube and eating Now ‘n’ Laters. His school life is not much better, he is constantly bullied for not fitting in. So when a girl named Abby (Chloe Moretz) moves in to the apartment next door, it is his first chance at making a friend.

Although, his luck does not seem to be getting any better as she tells him right away, “I can never be your friend.” Owen is quick to notice that Abby is not a normal girl. Even though it is winter and there is snow on the ground, she is shoeless. Also she has never heard of nor played with a Rubik’s Cube. When he asks her how old she is, she replies, “12 –years-old more or less.”

Owen does not know it yet, but Abby is a vampire. Like any vampire she needs blood in order to survive and she relies on her so-called father (Richard Jenkins) to get it for her. Validating what Owen suspects that she is not normal and also alluding that she is a vampire, she tells Owen, “I’m not a girl. I’m nothing.”

There was not a lot of CGI in Let Me In, which is a good thing. Because most of the CGI in the film was over-the-top, which hurt it more than it helped it. However, the area that it excelled most in was the cinematography. It was magnificently done. The chilly tone was captured perfectly as we often saw with frosted breath and pale faces.

Dramatic irony, showing the audience the killer before the character sees him, is a technique many older horror films used to create fear and suspense. Many modern day horror films often opt for “cheap scares” by turning down the score and all of a sudden have something jump into the screen. Thankfully, this film went with the former. I also found it interesting that we never see Owen’s mother’s face, she is almost never shown on the screen even if she is in the scene.

Let Me In deserves to be in the list of Top Horror Films of 2010. You must go into it knowing that it is not necessarily scary as it is eerie. Also, it is not very fast paced so be prepared to give it some patience. Being that it is a remake and still quite delightful to watch makes me all the more anxious to watch the original.