January 11, 2012

Review: 8/10 Can of Whoop Ass

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

I read all three novels of the Millennium trilogy, written by the late Stieg Larsson. The first book, The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo¸ leads into a sprawling story about Lisbeth Salander and Mikael Blomkvist. With the success of the novels – international best-sellers – it was no surprise when Europe made film versions or when America did the same a few years later. Both efforts encountered obstacles to converting such a plot-laden tale to the more immediate emotion of cinematic storytelling. Yet, while The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo will leave many viewers in the dark with plot complications, the visual audacity of the film more than makes up for the cluttered story.

The film is centered on the mystery of Harriet Vanger, who disappeared from the Vanger family island 40 years ago. But because I read the novel, likely along with a decent majority of the viewing audience, I knew the resolution to that mystery. I knew what happened to Harriet before the film even started. This is the larger problem of using pre-existing material, such as with remakes or book adaptations: the story is already known to the audience. But the solution to this problem is inherent in its appeal. Readers flock to see cinematic versions of novels they’ve read. Yet, they do not do so to see if A and B still happen, but to compare their mental image of the novel’s events with a visual rendering on the silver screen. That’s why people complained about Daniel Craig being a bad casting choice for Blomkvist originally: people are concerned about how a film visually depicts something that only exists in the reader’s mind. But to the film’s credit, this is where the movie really shines: displaying the intensity of the novel as something visually recognizable. The movie rings true to the people we imagined, or at least, the people I imagined.

Proof of this is that the same images that stayed with me from the novel are the ones that stay with me from the film: the brutal rape scene, Lisbeth’s counter-culture appearance, the Vanger family island, and of course Sweden itself – land of coffee, cigarettes, and casual sex. As the details of the mystery were laid out, it felt a bit tedious to me, though I understand that for people unfamiliar with the plot the sequential storytelling was essential. But the film remained riveting for its constant ability to stay visually appealing. From the snowy banks of the Swedish highways, to the transparent glass walls of Martin Vanger’s home, to the paltry cabin where Blomkvist pieces the puzzle together – it all feels authentic to the story being told. And because a film based on a book can do little else but decide how things should look, David Fincher has done a marvelous job.

Further, Fincher and company have caught on to the utter brutality of the story. This film is certainly not for children. There are graphic images of brutalized victims and more sex scenes than I can remember – with all types of people in all types of ways. But the film pulls no punches, and it deserves credit for that, because the insidiousness of the plot mirrors the trauma that informs Salander’s fragile psyche. Her appearance is a reflection of that trauma: the wild tattoos and piercings drape her petite frame like obvious, irrepressible scars. As Salander, Rooney Mara’s main triumph is looking the part. Mara seems at any time on the verge of raging violence, epiphany, or orgasm – sometimes all at once. Her life of torment has left her hardened and bitter, ever vigilant of distancing herself from states of vulnerability. The emotional crux of the entire trilogy is Lisbeth’s lack of emotion and whether she can ever get it back.

It makes poetic sense that Salander ultimately fall for Blomkvist, as he is her anti-thesis. His non-committal, low-key demeanor makes him unthreatening to Salander’s carefully erected fragility. She thinks he’ll never hurt her. But of course, this belief is shattered at the end of the movie and yet again, Lisbeth is left shattered and fending for herself. 300 million Euros can’t fix a broken heart.

After I read the original novel, I got the feeling that Stieg Larsson realized near the end of his manuscript that the true star of his series was going to be Salander and not Blomkvist. Further, I think that he probably realized that the entire “Harriet mystery” was not all that important, but it was as good a way as any to introduce Lisbeth to the world. The second and third novels (as the second and third movies will be) are all about her. But this initial effort, though lengthy, has established our heroine. We’ve seen the brutality she’s dealt with. We see what she’s up against. When she asks Blomkvist, after saving him from Martin Vanger’s killing room, “May I kill him?”, we know that she is still nothing more than a child. The film ends with her reeling from yet another let down. And that’s where it should end, because this isn’t a story about a journalist in disrepute, a family mystery, or even a sadistic serial killer who brutalizes women – it’s about The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo who’s strong enough to deal with all of it.