Welcome to the land of ice and snow

Rating: 8/10 (4 January 2012)

Three years ago, nobody took David Fincher seriously. People admired his visual artistry – he made even preposterous duds like Panic Room interesting with his imaginative camera-work – and his willingness to push the envelope, but even his most celebrated film, the cult favorite Fight Club, bombed at the box office and received disparaging, almost downright hostile, reviews upon its initial release in 1999. Then, in December 2008, the ambitious, long-gestating romance The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, a movie unlike anything Fincher had previously attempted, debuted to critical acclaim and eventually garnered a stunning thirteen Oscar nominations, including one for its director. In 2010, his next project, The Social Network, became the virtually undisputed Best Movie of the Year, sweeping the critics' awards and appearing on countless Top Ten lists, and suddenly, David Fincher was one of the most sought-after directors in Hollywood. Considering his previous filmography and his newfound popularity, it's little surprise that when Fincher was chosen to helm the American adaptation of Steig Larsson's wildly popular crime novel, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, the decision was met with much excitement and surprisingly little outrage. It was the perfect opportunity for Fincher to both prove his worth as a mainstream filmmaker and return to the darker, more audacious movies that jumpstarted his career.
By all rights, the movie should be considered an undeniable success. Opening with a typically innovative, gorgeously nightmarish credits sequence set to the distorted, rollicking strains of a cover of Led Zeppelin masterwork "Immigrant Song" by Karen O, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo is a fascinating tight-wire act of a movie, weaving a story of murder, rape, intrigue and vengeance that feels adequately gruesome and macabre but never abusive, once again demonstrating David Fincher's ability to handle graphic material with finesse. The director fuses together an ice-cold atmosphere (both literal and metaphorical, as the audience can practically feel the frigid Swedish weather through the screen), spine-tingling imagery and a taut score (courtesy of Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, who won an Oscar for their work on The Social Network) to create almost relentless tension; even those who know every inch of the plot will find themselves on the edge of their seats for much of the running time. It goes without saying that this movie is not for the faint-hearted. Even so, Fincher surprisingly manages to devise moments of poignancy and even humor amid all the gloom, making this film slightly more enjoyable – if such a word can be used in this context – than the generally bleak source material and Swedish version. Devotees of Larsson's novel will be pleased that this adaptation is remarkably faithful, keeping the majority of the plot intact and making only a few minor tweaks.
As far as the actors go, not a single misstep can be found. Despite his limited screen time, Christopher Plummer imbues the jaded Henrik Vanger with a nice mix of pathos and dry wit, and Stellan Skarsgard thankfully plays the cordial yet enigmatic Martin Vanger, brother of presumed murder victim, Harriet, with a chillingly understated menace, lending realism to a character that could easily have been overly manic or cartoonish. Daniel Craig takes a break from his usual macho-guy persona to embody the determined, albeit somewhat bland journalist Mikael Blomkvist, his hulking, age-worn physique lending credibility to the character's lofty ideals. Nonetheless, as in the novel, the undeniable star of the show is the tortured, antisocial computer hacker Lisbeth Salander, and, in the titular role, Rooney Mara is simply sensational. Previously known by most for playing Mark Zuckerberg's exasperated girlfriend in The Social Network, Mara became all but a household name when David Fincher chose her to play Salander, one of the most coveted roles of the century, as evidenced by the frenzied media coverage that accompanied the seemingly endless search process, during which such A-list actresses as Natalie Portman and Scarlett Johannson were allegedly considered. Viewing the final product, it's obvious Fincher made the right choice. Mara, ordinarily a rather unassuming brunette, is unrecognizable with her dyed-black hair, heavy make-up, multiple body piercings, tattered Goth clothing and near-anorexic frame, yet more impressive than her physical transformation is the way she nails Lisbeth's volatile psychological state, her fragile yet explosive personality. Through her haunted eyes and guarded posture, she conveys myriad emotions at once, alternating between passion and vulnerability, belligerence and anguish, tenacity and insecurity to create a complex, mesmerizing character that dominates the screen simply by being there.
And yet, something doesn't feel quite right. For all its perfectly calibrated suspense, the movie left me, if not disappointed, then slightly empty, as though something vital was missing; even now, I can't quite figure out why. Maybe it's the story itself, which I find overly convoluted and rather unfocused (I was never a huge fan of the book). Maybe it's the fact that, despite having both read the novel and seen the Swedish adaptation, I let the feverishly edited teaser trailer trick me into believing that the movie would be a kinetic, fast-paced thriller rather than the slow-burning mystery that it actually is. Or maybe – and this seems the most likely explanation – I'm just tired of the detached, methodical air that has saturated Fincher's recent work, even the ostensibly warm Benjamin Button. Don't get me wrong: I adore The Social Network as much as the next person, and I was captivated by 2007's Zodiac. But what happened to the dynamic brio of Fight Club? Technically, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo is flawless – almost too flawless, if that's possible. The whole affair is so measured, so painstaking, that it's honestly not that fun to watch; I suppose this could be more to do with my own expectations than the movie itself, but I somehow wish it was more stylish, more liberated and adventurous, more like the old David Fincher. I liked it, but I wanted to love it.