The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (2011)

Journalist Mikael Blomkvist (Daniel Craig) has just been found guilty of libel, the case stemming from an unflattering article he penned in his magazine, Millennium, concerning Swedish business tycoon Hans-Erik Wennerström (Ulf Friberg). As he's packing up for an extensive leave of absence from the magazine – choosing to leave it in the hands of co-owner and occasional lover Erika Berger (Robin Wright) – he's contacted by Dirch Frode (Steven Berkoff), calling on behalf of his client Henrik Vanger (Christopher Plummer), a prominent Swedish industrialist. Blomkvist agrees to meet Vanger and is presented with a proposition: uncover the truth behind the mystery disappearance and presumed death of relative Harriet Vanger, who vanished without a trace forty years ago, a case that's obsessed Henrick ever since. His reward: a handsome salary and fresh dirt on Wennerström. Mikael agrees to look into the matter under the cover story that he's writing the Vanger family history. As Mikael digs into the case and uncovers long-buried truths, he comes to need a research assistant. Frode suggests the same person who investigated Mikael before he was offered the job, Lisbeth Salander (Rooney Mara), a pierced and tattooed twenty-something ward of the state who has been labeled a social outcast and a person incapable of handling her own affairs. In reality, she's an expert investigator and a gifted hacker who freelances at an investigative firm. Her own very personal dealings with untoward people gives her greater purpose in the Harriet case, and her dealings with Mikael allow her to experience emotions long buried underneath her hardened exterior and difficult interior. As the truth behind Harriet's disappearance takes shape and as Mikael and Lisbeth's relationship grows, they come under fire from those who would prefer the past be left buried and the present be left undisturbed.

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo superbly mixes modern social commentary and classic murder mystery, and it does so in a way never really before attempted, using the mystery to demonstrate not the absolute goodness of heroes and the undeniable evil of villains, but to prove that life is a far more complicated challenge than the righteous condoning the unrighteous, the well-dressed and clean-cut hero piecing together the evidence and loudly proclaiming the unflappable findings in an authoritative voice and going home once the culprit is placed behind bars. No, this is a cutting-edge tale of 21st century anthropologic analysis where nothing is clear-cut or black-and-white, save for the cold, inhospitable Hedestad winter. The story is dark, disturbing, and deranged – many of the characters, too – but it's the comparative case study of who makes up the heroes and villains that's the draw. The picture speaks loudly against preconceived notions, blind judgments, and other classic prejudices as it draws largely unconventional heroes. Lisbeth's life is shaped by those who either see and accept the person behind the piercings, tattoos, and cold exterior or who refuse to get to know her because of her appearance, age, and gender and who take for gospel the story of her life as it's recorded in a folder penned by and for bureaucrats who treat her as a file number – or worse – and not as an evolving, self-sufficient individual, a state in which she exists, it would seem, largely because of the very same judgments of others and not exclusively by her own actions. The story necessarily forces its audience to look beyond the external, see past moral disagreements, and judge others on actions, not simply outdated "norms." Certainly neither Lisbeth nor Mikael travel the high road in all that they do, leaving much of the story in a soupy sort of moral equivalence dilemma, but then again, that seems to be the standard for life, for better or for worse, the story making gross exaggerations and working on extremes but certainly making its point, as sharp and yet eloquent as it may be.

Director David Fincher does a superb job of telling the story from both sides, structurally de-emphasizing the character study but making sure to accentuate it within the broader thematic undercurrents. The film potentially runs into trouble considering just how heavy it can be and usually is. It's so cold, so dark, so disgusting that it threatens to alienate segments of its audience almost by default, but that underlying theme of the dark underbelly and the dangers of distant character judgment necessitate a more difficult-to-process visual tone. The film rarely lightens up; it's thematically heavy and structurally gray, with its second half, physically, a little brighter as the mysteries and people become more clearly defined, but at its core The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo plays with an almost unapproachable style that leaves the audience uncomfortable both physically and emotionally. Fincher doesn't prepare his audience for what's to come, either; for as shocking as the story may be, the director plays it straight and shows no hesitancy in doing so. Only his bleak stylings portend what's to come, yet even the seediest details become somewhat lost in translation from page to screen. The story does work a little better with the added breathing room and deeper exposition afforded by the written word, but Fincher certainly paints clearly the dastardly characters and deeds, even when not explicitly following the book. The picture certainly hits all of the necessary highlights, but a read-through of Larson's novel definitely helps in piecing together the themes which the film translation does indeed bring into greater focus, seeing the characters – namely Lisbeth, Mikael, Henrik Vanger, Martin Vanger, Palmgren, and Bjurman – play into the broader theme of judging people on their outward attributes rather than their inward traits, of living rightly in all areas, wrongly behind-the-scenes, or as an individual who may not fit socially acceptable criteria but who stay within the confines of basic decency until and unless pushed to do otherwise.

The complex characters require equally complex and nuanced performances, which the cast provides with Ocar-caliber efficiency. Needless to say, the film is dominated by the presence of Rooney Mara and her uncanny and complex performance of Lisbeth Salander. Mara pulls off the superficialities of Lisbeth very well. Of course, it's much easier to paint a character from the outside-in rather than inside-out. It's simple to put on a few piercings, draw on a few tattoos, dye eyebrows, and cast a slender young actress willing to film several brutal scenes and bare her body at several junctures. It's another altogether to so painstakingly create a character on the inside, a character who wears the external oddities with a wounded confidence so well. Mara literally gets under Lisbeth's skin, playing the part in such a way that the personality meshes with the exterior. Her actions and decidedly understated emotions come naturally, and the audience will find the nuanced performance effectively saying much more than is vocalized or physically demonstrated on the screen. Mara opens up a closed-off character without compromising the integrity of who Lisbeth Salander is or the intent with which Larson seemed to draw her. It's one of the most complex and understated but effective performances in recent memory, certainly defined by far more than the immediately-evident external traits that shape, but don't define, the characters. Daniel Craig puts in a fine effort as Mikael Blomkvist, doing well in a role away from the standard action fare in which he normally appears. His character doesn't translate quite as well to the screen as does Lisbeth, largely because time constraints keep him from the sort of intimate development enjoyed in the novel, and partially because Mara's performance is just that good. Still, it's an effective performance but one that's certainly overshadowed by both Mara and Fincher's smooth and pinpoint direction, the latter largely defined by its subtleties. For example, the film's first half borders on black-and-white with one of the first real splashes of brightness and color coming when Mikael first dines with Martin in his wide-open glass-walled house, the relative glow and obvious transparency both making for interesting studies in cinema style as it shapes structure, defines expectations, and helps tell a story.