Public Justice, Private Happiness

Rating: 8/10 (5 September 2010)

I'm always ready to censure the MPAA in whatever way I can. When they say, "Strong brutal violence including a rape," we think, well rape is strong brutal violence! You could've just said strong brutal violence without giving anything away! But in the case of The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, I'm beginning to see why they make that distinction. I could've seen someone get killed with seven chainsaws and not be as disturbed as I was by the rape scene that occurs a few minutes short of an hour into this surprisingly standard but strangely bewildering film. This rape is foreshadowed by a forced blowjob. The man is in knowingly and insatiably sadistic control of the woman. Then comes the rape proper. It goes on longer than it needs to in order to make the point that this woman is brutally raped. What is it telling us? An emotional point of reference, I believe, for the unraveling of the investigative plot later to come.
Walking into this film adaptation of one of the most astonishing literary success stories in years, I was excited because of my previous experiences with Swedish cinema. The subtleties, the artfulness, the minimalism especially. Bergman, Sjostrom, Kaurismaki. I was off-put by the very mainstream American handling of the story, which is frankly, on the surface, quite an American creation. It's a mystery thriller, two unlikely underdog heroes teamed up to crack an ongoing case. And that's great! But there is also an edge to this story not unlike Mike Yanagita's scene in Fargo. During the story, we are subjected to seemingly extraneous chronicles of pure evil, harrowing brutality and subtext that seems constrained by the otherwise tight clockwork of the case-solving plot.
Nevertheless, I am continually intrigued by said unorthodoxy of its structure. I have yet to read the book, and maybe I will soon. I love the first shots of the saga's heroine, Lisbeth Salander, as she walks alone through pedestrian tunnels. This is where I become absorbed in the tone and style of the picture. And I'm not let down as her character arc continues. She is truly one of the most intriguing main characters I've seen in a movie in a very long time. She is a mystery, characterized by significant hang-ups in her interactions outside of those she knows or chooses to engage, along with unvarying yet strangely contrary patterns of behavior and interests. I love her chemistry with Blomqvist, the journalist-under-fire who seems to be our central protagonist, how their arc together flirts with formula, but ultimately defies it.
The performances are effective all around. But while all of the performances are powerful, including those of Michael Nyqvist as the admirably zen journalist, and Peter Haber as the implacable brother of the vanished girl in question, this movie and this character are endemic to Noomi Rapace, to the degree that casting anyone else as Lisbeth in a way almost sounds fool-headed. She commands a sophisticated and enticingly refractory performance in a story that shaves off coatings of society cues and behavioral expectations to reveal camouflaged penalties women suffer for their selfhood.