I wasn’t sure I’d enjoy the new version of The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo (2011), and not necessarily because the film itself wouldn’t be entertaining. Having seen and thoroughly enjoyed the three original films (and read all three novels), I wondered if I’d constantly be making conscious and/or subconscious comparisons as I watched David Fincher’s take on the same source material.
As it developed, enough time had passed since I’d watched the Swedish trilogy that the specific details of those films had gone fuzzy in my mind (like many other things! *rimshot*). I can still say I prefer the original film(s) and there are some areas where comparisons are apt, but as I was viewing the “new” The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, I was caught up in the story and characters and that’s a good thing. Despite its length (over 2.5 hours), TGWTDT 2011 (conserve energy, use abbreviations!) moves along effectively and I was actually shocked that the time had passed so quickly. It’s also interesting to note that the film’s length doesn’t mean it’s full of detail and character development: it’s actually rather lean and missing a fair amount of nuance that was present in the first version. Perhaps I’m mentally conflating all three of the Swedish films into a single, massive work (which they—and the novels—really are), but even so, my judgement about the “coolness” of Fincher’s film stands.
The plot is the same, of course. In a way, watching a remake or a new adaptation of a work puts a bit of a strain on the audience, since we already know what’s going to happen (assuming the second version is faithful to the first and doesn’t change the plot drastically), but how the new film gets there is what counts. TGWTDT 2011 makes one rather major change in the denouement, but it’s not a deal-breaker, the essence of the original novel was retained.
Journalist Mikael Blomkvist loses a lawsuit and resigns from “Millenium” magazine to avoid tainting its reputation. He’s hired by elderly industrial magnate Henrik Vanger, ostensibly to write the older man’s memoirs, but really to investigate the disappearance of Henrik’s niece Harriet in the mid-1960s. Mikael brings in free-lance researcher Lisbeth Salander, an asocial computer hacker, and together they uncover a series of murders which date back to the 1940s and which appear to be connected with the Vanger family.
Addressing one point—the conclusion—that’s been the focus of controversy in a number of commentaries on this film, I have to weigh in and say I have no problem with either the “Wennerstrom scam” sub-plot (which is roughly what happens in the books) or the “sad Lisbeth” coda. The character of Lisbeth Salander is superficially similar in the Hollywood film, the Swedish films, and the novels, although only in the books does one get much “privileged” insight into her personality (as opposed to deducing her feelings from her actions). The relationship between Lisbeth and Mikael is different in each “version” (for the sake of argument, let’s call the Swedish film trilogy, the novels, and the English-language film three separate “versions”): sometimes Mikael cares more, sometimes Lisbeth cares more, sometimes the attraction is mutual. In TGWTDT 2011, Lisbeth is the one who comes forward—she seems to be attracted to Mikael after doing the background check, and while it is he who hires her to be his research assistant, it is she who initiates their sexual relationship, and it is she who becomes emotionally attached to him.
Should one care to indulge in pop psychology, Lisbeth’s feelings for Mikael (who is old enough to be her father) go against what appears to be her (justified) antipathy towards men (she is brutally raped by her legal guardian, an excruciatingly unpleasant scene)—although she does demonstrate affection towards her former guardian (now recovering from a stroke). The novels make her feelings somewhat more explicit, and also go into more detail regarding how horrifically she’s been treated by men in her life, but TGWTDT 2011 mostly portrays her as independent, uncommunicative, isolated, rather than severely emotionally scarred. Why she trusted Mikael and developed an emotional attachment to him is unclear, but hey, love is like that.
Mikael, on the other hand, appears to like and respect Lisbeth, but in this version there is literally no indication he is attracted to her romantically (he’s already having an affair with Erika, the publisher of “Millenium,” who’s married). In the novels, Mikael is presented as very attractive to women (and has relationships with other women in addition to Erika): this isn’t carried over to the Swedish films, but in both the novels and the original movie trilogy, Mikael is extremely fond of Lisbeth in a friendly, protective, almost fatherly way, and she is the one who—after her one “slip”—repeatedly pushes him away. This is one area in which TGWTDT 2011 is flawed: Mikael’s attitude towards Lisbeth is less personal, he doesn’t seem to think of her much at all, except as a co-worker (and they don’t actually work together that much, unlike the first film version, in which they do some mutual investigating and traveling) and occasional bed partner. Of course, this makes Lisbeth’s feelings all the more tragic, since they aren’t reciprocated. The scene in which she tells her ex-guardian “I’ve made a friend” is really pitiful to watch, since we know Lisbeth is setting herself up for heartbreak, and that this “failure” or “weakness” will only push her further back into herself.
Perhaps the critical backlash (mild as it was) against the “unbelievable” conclusion of TGWTDT 2011 is a result of the newer version’s lack of characterisation and the excessively “cool” personalities of the two protagonists. Lisbeth’s actions with relation to Mikael are not logical and seem to go against her nature, and we’re not given a chance to know her well enough to understand her feelings or their origin. Similarly, Mikael is basically a just dogged reporter who really, really wants to solve the mystery of Harriet’s disappearance (and, later, the other murders), but his character has little depth otherwise.
This isn’t to say Daniel Craig and Rooney Mara aren’t satisfactory in their roles, because they are. I shan’t compare either of them to their Swedish counterparts, but there are considerable differences in both the characters as written and as performed. I will raise my hand to complain about Rooney Mara’s lack of eyebrows, because this “look” creeps me out. Sure, she’s got a punk haircut, tattoos, piercings, etc., but the absence of eyebrows gives her an alien appearance and seriously affected my ability to empathise with her. Call me shallow, but there you have it, her bald brow was a little too effective if it was supposed to signify her desire to reject societal norms.
The rest of the cast is also fine, although most of the supporting players are unfamiliar Euro-faces (the film was mostly shot in Sweden), with the exception of Christopher Plummer, Robin Wright, and Joely Richardson. This is the third film I’ve seen featuring Stellan Skarsgård in less than a year (after Thor and Melancholia), what’s up with that? The production values are also satisfactory. I was one of the few people, it seems, who didn’t feel the original film trilogy was very “Swedish” in tone or content (as compared to the novels, which naturally contain more “local colour”), and there’s not much in TGWTDT 2011 which couldn’t have been just as effective if the film had been set in some other European country, or Canada, or even the USA (with a few tweaks of the script to eliminate or explain the Vanger family’s Nazi past—which has very little significance in this film anyway). The much-vaunted credits sequence (set to Led Zeppelin’s “The Immigrant Song”) didn’t do much for me: I’m not averse to quirky credits animation, but this actually felt overdone and stylistically at odds with the “cool” tenor of the rest of the film.
One minor aspect of TGWTDT 2011 which interested me was the film’s depiction of Mikael and Lisbeth’s research. Being a researcher, writer, and librarian (among other things) in real life, I appreciated how the process of research was shown—in addition to the usual computer searches that have been de rigeur in cinema for over a decade now, the movie also shows people actually going through physical objects, such as newspaper clippings, photographs, paper reports *shock horror* Yes, believe it or not, children, not every bit of knowledge has been digitised. And sometimes, when doing research, you just want to put photos and charts and papers up on the wall, to see connections and relationships, and some people prefer this tangible display rather than being limited to what can be displayed on a laptop screen. The original film version also showed this, and while obviously Mikael and (especially) Lisbeth are never without their trusty laptops, both of them have to go places, talk to people, and consult original sources and documents. Amazing.
I’m sure my opinion of The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo (2011) would have been different if I’d never seen the original films or read the novels. Although I indicated at the outset of this review that I didn’t go into the screening with the intent of making a comparison between films or an evaluation of this version’s adaptation of the novel, my prior knowledge of these certainly affected me, as objective as I wished to be. And maybe I’m always prejudiced (just a tad) in favour of “original versions.” David Fincher’s film is quite slick, engrossing, well-produced, and well-paced. However, I did not feel it had the same dramatic depth as the Swedish version (although admittedly this is a statement I am making without the benefit of a re-viewing of the original film): there is too much emotional distance, too little feeling. I was never sure if my reaction to Lisbeth (especially) and Mikael and the rest was due to the script, direction, and performances, or if I was projecting feelings and motivations on them from the other films and the novels.
Nonetheless, The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo (2011) is certainly a decent film with a good deal to offer, and viewers without my “baggage” should find it a slick, captivating thriller with a clever plot and compelling performances.
