*** out of ****
Directed by: David Fincher
Starring: Daniel Craig, Rooney Mara, Stellan Skarsgard, Christopher Plummer and Robin Wright
Running time: 158 minutes
The old-school/new-age pairing of journalist Mikael Blomkvist and hacker Lisbeth Salander, from Stieg Larsson’s mystery The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, has gripped millions of readers around the world.
But considering that a recently made Swedish adaptation of Larsson’s "Millennium trilogy" – Tattoo is the first in the series – already succeeded in capturing the dark, brooding zenith of the late author’s work, the newest American take on his bestseller seems a tad late to the party.
That’s not to discredit the small triumphs that this more recent version has, especially since it comes from David Fincher, one of the finest American directors working today and an expert on crafting intricate dramas surrounding a criminal investigation (Se7en, Zodiac).
Regardless, it’s tough to forget the indelible stamp on the two main characters left by actors Michael Nyqvist and Noomi Rapace, and the taut pacing and chilly atmosphere that were provided by director Niels Arden Oplev.
If you’re not one of the 30 million who have picked up Larsson’s sprawling mystery, here’s a brief synopsis: Mikael Blomkvist (played by Daniel Craig, with an absent-minded Swedish accent) is a successful, old-fashioned, glasses-around-the-neck journalist who finds himself out of a job after libeling a Swedish industrialist. Defamed for his actions, he hastily agrees to work for another industry magnum, Henrik Vanger (Christopher Plummer), in the meantime.
Forty years ago, Henrik’s niece, Harriet, mysteriously vanished off the island of Hedestad, which houses the sprawling family estate and which never met a blizzard it didn’t embrace. Henrik is convinced that she was murdered, and that her killer has continued to send him framed pictures of flowers for his birthday – the same present that Harriet presented to him each year when she was alive.
Convinced that this perpetrator is still out there and eager for a fresh perspective, Henrik wants Blomkvist to offer his journalistic eye to the cold case and crack the mystery.
The disgraced journalist gets a partner to help with the mystery: hacker Lisbeth Salander (Rooney Mara). Her first onscreen appearance sums up the sardonic edge that has given the character a rampant following. She steps off her motorcycle, with a jet black phoenix-like mohawk and a coarse, dark wardrobe. She proceeds to sit at the far end of a boardroom table, jilted and uneasy, looking at her bosses with wavering eye contact, discussing details that only a woman of her curiosity and daring could uncover.
Like the skittish but brilliant Mark Zuckerberg, the subject of Fincher’s The Social Network, Salander is a recluse who obtains supremacy with her technical knowledge. She craftily obtains private documents by hacking her way through hard drives. Her investigatory skills contradict Blomkvist’s traditional techniques, but the two end up working well together.
With a pasty, unblemished face, Mara does not embody the ferocity and raw sexuality that Noomi Rapace brought to the role in the 2009 film. Still, Mara is hypnotic, a fiery screen presence who manages to show glimmers of vulnerability underneath a rough facade.
Salander is a terrific anti-hero, a victim of sexual violence who swallows her fear and resolves to exact her revenge on predatory pigs that hurt women, including one that becomes a suspect in the Vanger cold case. Note that the film, like the novel, contains scenes of graphic violence and rape.
Salander’s black subconscious is first revealed in an intoxicating opening titles sequence. In the inky, lacquer-drenched opening, Lisbeth emerges like a flower in bloom to the piercing howls of Karen O covering Led Zeppelin’s “Immigrant Song.” It’s animated and edited like the throbbing nightmare of a James Bond opening credit sequence.
Fincher’s vision of Larsson’s bestseller has some technical triumphs. Among his crew are musicians Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, and their score’s fuzzy Kid A-esque poundings are reminiscent of the ominous undertones they brought to The Social Network (both won an Oscar for the film, and Fincher pays tribute to Reznor’s band, Nine Inch Nails, in a clever easter egg).
Cinematographer (and Fincher collaborator) Jeff Cronenweth is also back with his signature low lighting and olive tints, brightened for recreations of the crimes shown in flashback.
The Swedish counterpart has a couple of strengths in relation to this newest adaptation. The romance spawned between Salander and Blomkvist had greater resonance in that film, since Oplev’s version stressed character development over the mystery.
Both characters cling to each other because they are lost and vulnerable. However, considering the queasy, sadistic act of sexual violence perpetrated on Salander early on in the film, the rote acts of sexuality between the two journalists here feel unconvincing.
It’s not as engaging or suspenseful as the Swedish film, but Fincher’s adaptation does have the moments of raw, unsettling violence that punctuated the novel. Meanwhile, Mara is unnerving and often mesmerizing, even if she is a paler version of what we’ve seen before (i.e., Noomi Rapace). The same could be said about the adaptation, which could have been more gripping had it not been committed to film so recently and so superbly.
No comments:
Post a Comment