The casting roundup continues with fervor. Two crime procedurals will be winning guest players, while a beloved (although unfortunately named) sitcom has finally cast a mother for one of its stars.
CSI: NY will be welcoming Jeffrey Nording (24, Desperate Housewives) to play the role of a U.S. senator who is dissatisfied with the way the CSI team handled his daughter's rape case. Nording will be reuniting with CSI: NY star Sela Ward, with whom he starred in Once & Again. Nording will play the senator character for two episodes that will air this November on CBS. CSI: NY premieres this Friday, September 23, at 10/9c on CBS. -EW via TVLine
Fans of The Wire and Bones will be pleased with the casting choice for Body of Proof's newest character. Deirdre Lovejoy, who played Assistant State Attorney Rhonda Pearlman on The Wire and serial killer "The Gravedigger" on Bones, will be appearing on the second season of ABC's series as Jeannine, the wife of Detective Bud Morris (John Caroll Lynch). Body of Proof airs Tuesdays at 10/9c on ABC. -TVLine
The comedy world will not be deprived of guest stars. Bill Lawrence's ABC series Cougar Town is finally revealing where the malicious and cold-hearted, but somehow likeable, Ellie (Christa Miller) came from: an equally malicious and cold-hearted, though somewhat less likeable, mother in the form of Susan Blakely. Reportedly, Ellie will spend a great deal of her mother's visit to Cougar Town, FL, trying to convince her naive friends that her seemingly sweet mother is actually a horrible person. Very Bill Lawrencey stuff. Cougar Town's return date to ABC has yet to be set, although we're hoping for a November Season 3 premiere. -TVLine
Matt Reeves' magnificent Let Me In is an Americanized adaptation of Let the Right One In a Swedish horror film which itself is based on an acclaimed novel by John Ajvide Lindqvist (also Swedish). As such its setting has been moved from frigid Scandinavia to the more familiar but no less frigid Los Alamos New Mexico a town depicted as so bleak and uninviting as to provoke a lawsuit from the state’s tourism commission. Its atmosphere is particularly inhospitable to timid loners like 12-year-old Owen (Kodi Smit-McPhee) a spindly late-bloomer who suffers regular humiliations at school courtesy of a trio of pubescent sadists.
Owen’s home life isn’t much better: Dad’s gone for good pending a divorce from mom who’s an aspiring wino and something of a religious nut. He seeks refuge nightly in the solitary confines of his apartment complex courtyard where he meets and befriends Abby (Chloe Moretz) a new neighbor and apparent kindred spirit whose quirks include a penchant for walking barefoot through the snow. That along with her professed inability to recall her exact age provides Owen with the first clues that his new friend may not be entirely normal.
She is in fact a vampire. And like any vampire Abby requires blood for sustenance. But since the sight of a little girl chomping on the necks of locals is certain to raise eyebrows at Child Protective Services she entrusts the duty of procuring nourishment to her haggard elder companion (Richard Jenkins). First believed to be Abby’s father but later revealed as otherwise he (his name is never stated) trots out wearily on occasion to find a fresh young body to drain of its blood. His skills appear to be slipping in his old age (like Owen he is a mere mortal) and his sloppiness soon attracts the attention of a grizzled local cop (Elias Koteas) who has no idea how far in over his head he is. (The film is set in 1983 when the vampire-detection tools available to law enforcement officials were woefully inadequate.)
Meanwhile Abby and Owen’s relationship blossoms and notwithstanding the inevitable complications that arise in every human-vampire relationship they develop a profound and sweetly innocent bond. Still lurking in the back of our minds is the knowledge that Abby at her core is a remorseless bloodsucker and one significantly older than her pre-teen visage would have us believe. Is her affection for Owen sincere or is she merely grooming him to assume the role of her caretaker once her current one exceeds his usefulness?
There’s a great deal of manipulation at work in Let Me In both on the part of Abby and director Reeves who alternates between tugging on our heart-strings and butchering them. Abby is one of the truly great horror villains — so great in fact that I suspect many audience members won’t view her as one even as her list of mutilated victims grows. Reeves does well to preserve an element of ambiguity resisting the urge to proffer a Usual Suspects-esque denouement inviting us instead to connect the story’s dots ourselves. The film’s unique and affecting juxtaposition of tenderness and savagery combined with a slew of stellar performances makes for an experience unlike any other in recent horror-movie memory one whose effects will linger long after the closing credits have rolled.