The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo - Film Review

Given that David Fincher's big Hollywood remake is pending, and will no doubt receive the attention that his reputation merits, it seems both relevant and fitting to go back and re-examine and evaluate the 2009 Swedish original, a masterclass from Niels Arden Oplev.

Based on the novel by the late Steig Larsson, the film follows two characters, disgraced Millenium reporter Mikael 'Kalle' Blomkvist (Michael Nyqvist) and introvert, punk hacker Lisbeth Salander (Noomi Rapace) as they form an unlikely duo and attempt to solve a murder that has gone unresolved for forty years.

We meet Blomkvist as he is being sentenced to a prison term for libelous claims made against an industrial tycoon in his newspaper. He is certain he has been set up, a view shared by others, including another wealthmonger, ageing business head Henrik Vanger (Sven Bertil-Taube), who's family live on a secluded snowy island. In 1966, his niece and spiritual daughter Harriet disappeared without a trace, presumed dead. Still restless over the matter, and convinced her death was at the hands of one of his family members, he offers Blomkvist a healthy sum to crack the case.

He is not alone in his investigation for long. Lisbeth, who had previously been hired to collate information on Blomkvist, continues to hack his computer and finds information about his new project. Unable to resist the mystery, she does some case work of her own, solves a long baffling riddle, and joins forces with the plucky journalist. Together, they begin to find links to a series of pseudo religuous killings from many years before, which seemingly tie in with their case, and become endangered as the murderer turns out to be closer than they know.

Although its elaborate mystery thriller aspect is highly enjoyable, albeit one that at times seems like a grittier, darker Agatha Christie romp, it's in the subtext that TGWTDT finds its real hammering thrust and knife edge. Set against a backdrop that includes power infused corruption and degradation, dangerous political slants and the concept of the hurt and the givers of pain, the story takes a deeper, edgier pedestal. It makes an almost casual reference to the pro-Nazi collaboration that took place in the thirties and forties, a taboo in Sweden, and has no qualms about displaying the worst areas humans have to show for themselves. Torture, suffering and rape.

Make no mistake, the film pulls no punches. Many of the characters are presented as sadistic horror shows, particularly when it comes to their treatment of females. Considering that the book's original title is The Men Who Hate Women, that shouldn't come as a great surprise, and it's almost anti-man slant is accenuated in particular by Lisbeth, the victim of abuse as a child and later exploited sexually, and horrifically, by her parole officer. That she is able to get even on that count, and hold her own in others, suggests that the film not only covers the festering nature of being the victim, but also the empowerment of fighting back.

Which is why Lisbeth, the titular character and hero of the story in spirit, is the film's most famous export. She is a singularly minded, aloof young woman beset on all sides by threats of all kinds, who wears her gothic attire and rebellious appearance with spite rather than pride, completely alien to the idea of opening up, or of seeing a man as anything other than an opportunistic pig. In so much media, this archetype fails miserably, coming across as cartoonish. Luckily, Oplev has the revelatory Noomi Rapace to rely on, and its no great surprise that the actress is on her way to big things internationally. Her Lisbeth is searing, incendiary, alluring and fascinating.

Michael Nyqvist plays Blomqvist as a wry old cynic, unconventional and at times eccentric if not world weary and wary. The chemistry between he and Lisbeth is palpable but not overcooked, and they make a great double act, with her often taking the masculine traits of the relationship. There are plenty of examples of role-reversal here, both figurative and literal, with this being one of the more subtle examples. He is interminably the good man, the freedom fighting writer and sneak, his weapons compassion and understanding. But there is also a vulnerability about him, much like Lisbeth, and although she wears hers on her shoulder (or intricate body art), his is conveyed by a hang dog expression and tentative sentimentality.

It's appropriate that the book is named after such a small, narratively insignificant detail, because in many ways the plot of the film only exists as a way to convey its themes. The art is in the details and background, not the emboldened foreground. That's not to say that the main story is not gripping and exciting, because it is. Well structured and intelligent, its engrossing and follows its ultimate point to the tip.

Oplev doesn't only excel here, he also mounts the picture beautifully, with plenty of symbolic imagery and gorgeous cinematography. Snowy, wintertime Sweden looks both unbearably cold and starkly attractive to look at from the warmth of your living room. The script is both fairly faithful and strongly independent, and for all its bleakness there are the occasional well timed placements of warmth and humour. Jacob Groth's dissonant soundtrack fuels the fire of expectation, and the editing keeps a quick pace despite it's long running time. You also have strong performances, including Bjorn Granath as a veteran police officer, Marika Lagercrantz and Peter Haber as more approachable members of the Vanger family, and all of the above. If there is any flaw in this film, it isn't technical.

It's still to be seen whether Fincher can even do justice to this film, let alone top it, and watching it again begs the question of whether such a remake is required. Do people really have such a problem with subtitles? Do they really find it so hard to empathise with a character who isn't of their race? Regardless, this original holds a certain uniqueness and independence that will always stand it in good stead, and ensure it doesn't fade from memory within the shadow of the re-do. While on the surface The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo hits heights as a murder mystery, its real heart and breathing soul is a white hot epicentre of depraved humanity and retribution, named for a small detail and famed for its shock moment. Appropriate, really.

9/10