A chilling murder mystery set against the haunted nights and frozen days of the Scandinavian tundra, the American adaptation of Swede Stieg Larsson’s bestselling novel The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo seems, at first glance, like the perfect material for renegade filmmaker David Fincher. One of Hollywood’s most celebrated and sought-after directors, Fincher’s resume already boasts two of the best serial killer films of the past twenty years in Seven and Zodiac, as well as two veritable modern masterpieces in Fight Club and last years The Social Network. All of Fincher’s films – even the slightly maudlin The Curious Case of Benjamin Button and the critically under-appreciated Panic Room – are recognizable for their icy aesthetic, sinister subject matter, and examination of themes including fear, rage and social disillusionment; themes that, if its supporters are to be believed, Larsson’s novel deals with in considerable detail.
Personally, I have not read The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, and therefore cannot speak to its quality. But after watching both the laborious 2009 Swedish version, and now Fincher’s English language remake, I am beginning to suspect that Larsson’s book just isn’t very good. I wouldn’t go so far as to call it outright bad, as the core murder mystery is gripping in a Agatha Christie meets Hannibal Lecter kind of way. Furthermore, at the hands of Fincher, the screenplay’s disjointed first act, bloated runtime and pandering sexualisation of its protagonist all seem like far smaller problems than they might otherwise have. Still, I’d be lying if I called The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo anything other than a serviceable thriller, or a glossy waste of a talented filmmaker’s time.
Fincher plays his strongest card first, opening with a phenomenal credits sequence that, along with those from Seven and Fight Club, deserves to be remembered as amongst the best of all time. Immediately thereafter we are introduced to Mikael Blomkvist (Daniel Craig; The Adventures of Tintin), a middle-aged journalist whose credibility has recently been shattered after being sued for libel by a wealthy industrialist he was investigating for criminal activities. Forced to take an extended sabbatical, Blomkvist accepts an intriguing job offer from another wealthy business man named Henrik Vanger (Christopher Plummer; Beginners), who promises to help the disgraced writer rebuild his career if he can unlock the secret to a 40-year-old murder.
With pale blue eyes and hard set jaw, Craig fits well into the part of the weary Blomkvist, an idealistic man turned cynical by the injustices in the world around him. But he’s overshadowed by the diminutive Rooney Mara (The Social Network) as the titular heroine and Blomkvist’s eventual research assistant: Lisbeth Salander, an anti-social, punk-rock computer hacking savant. In truth, I’m not nearly as enamoured with the character as others are; she’s too ludicrously cool to be believable, and the handling of her sexual identity is extremely problematic (I’ll get to that in a minute). But she fits well enough into the dark, bitter universe in which the story takes place, and it’s hard not to be impressed by the fearlessness of Mara’s vulnerable yet venomous performance.
The greater issue surrounding Lisbeth’s character is where she fits in to the plot. While the investigation into Vanger’s cold case eventually forms the backbone of the narrative, it takes close to an hour before the two protagonists actually share the screen. Prior to that, we are treated to an entirely unrelated story in which Lisbeth is repeatedly sexually assaulted by her state-appointed guardian. They’re an ugly sequence of scenes that, although admittedly compelling, serve zero function other than to redundantly link Lisbeth with the theme of misogyny present in the rest of the story. On a more pressing level, with the film coming in at a whopping one hundred and fifty eight minutes long, this irrelevant subplot could easily have been cut, and the film would have been tighter and better as a whole.
But trust in Fincher and he will deliver. This kind of material is his bread and butter, and his control over his film remains as meticulous as ever. From the crisp cinematography by Jeff Chenoweth to the pulse-setting score by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, everything about this film – on a sensory level at least – is perfectly calibrated to put you on edge. The distinct scarcity of suspects makes the perpetrator of the Vanger murder obvious from pretty early on, and yet Fincher still manages to make the investigation worth following. Under his lens, a character shuffling through photos and police reports becomes as thrilling as a high speed chase, while a climactic conversation between Blomkvist and the killer (mirroring a similar scene from Zodiac) will set your stomach churning with uncertainty and dread.
Still, the inherent shallowness of this material is never more apparent than in the sexualisation of Lisbeth. As strong as Mara’s performance may be, the fact remains that her character functions not to empower women, but rather to pander to the erotic fantasies of men. Sexually aggressive, barely legal, petite, bi-sexual, and clad from head to toe in leather and piercings, Lisbeth satisfies to a wide range of pornographic archetypes. But despite being all too happy to have one night stands with other woman, Lisbeth only opens up emotionally after she is “conquered” by a man (and one twice her age at that). Even the film’s sickening (and, I reiterate, wholly unnecessary) rape scene feels a lot like it was included to satisfy the morbid fascination our society has with sexually related violence.
Of course it’s by no means immoral for fictional works to play to these curiosities, any more than it’s wrong for audiences to enjoy watching Lisbeth enact her brutal revenge upon her rapist. The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo delves the dark waters that aren’t meant to intrigue us but do. And with Fincher at the wheel – and with Mara riding shotgun – it does so with enough style and tension that it’s easy enough to forgive its faults. But high art it is not. Make no mistake: for all its mewing about misogyny, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo remains a decidedly male oriented piece of lurid pulp fiction. Strikingly shot, impressively acted and generally suspenseful, yes. But with nothing more insightful to share than an average episode of Law & Order: SVU.






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