Cinematic Saturdays - The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

Running with last week’s review, I’m shining the spotlight on another Swedish author, Stieg Larsson, creator of the Millennium Trilogy and my all-time favorite badass heroine, Lisbeth Salander. 

Title: The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

Author:  Stieg Larsson

Publisher: Knopf

Publication Date: 2000

Pages: 465

Genre: Crime Thriller

Rating: 

Summary (from Goodreads): 

Mikael Blomkvist, a once-respected financial journalist, watches his professional life rapidly crumble around him. Prospects appear bleak until an unexpected (and unsettling) offer to resurrect his name is extended by an old-school titan of Swedish industry. The catch—and there's always a catch—is that Blomkvist must first spend a year researching a mysterious disappearance that has remained unsolved for nearly four decades. With few other options, he accepts and enlists the help of investigator Lisbeth Salander, a misunderstood genius with a cache of authority issues. Little is as it seems in Larsson's novel, but there is at least one constant: you really don't want to mess with the girl with the dragon tattoo.

This is actually one of those rare instances in which I prefer a movie to the book. The story is solid but overall the novel reads a bit like an unfinished manuscript. Because Stieg Larsson unfortunately died before US publication, he wasn’t able to contribute to the final editorial process. Therefore the book contains quite a lot of extraneous detail and characters that often read flat. However, to be fair, it’s possible that flatness is just the result of a more event/story driven plot and is therefore merely preferential (I like character-driven novels).

Speaking of characters (sorry, Stieg), it feels as though he tried so hard to make his characters unique that they ended up unrealistic and almost impossible to relate to. There isn’t a single character in this book, even a minor one, who’s a regular person. Either they’re eccentric, billionaire titans of industry, or incestuous, serial murderers, or criminalized journalists, or super-genius hackers. The list goes on and on. Even though it’s set in the “real world,” I felt I needed to try pretty hard to suspend reality.

But all that being said, again, the story is freakin’ awesome. My summery is below. 

Beware of Spoilers – Mikael Blomkvist, a financial journalist who built his reputation on exposing high stakes, white-collar crimes, faces jail time when he defames the character of a local billionaire. Wanting to avoid prison, he agrees instead to resign from his position at Millennium, the Stockholm-based magazine he writes for and co-owns. At this time, with nothing to fill his days and no income to speak of, he’s hired by another billionaire, Henrik Vanger, to investigate the 36-year-old disappearance of his niece Harriet. Feeling overwhelmed, Blomkvist elicits the help of hacking mastermind and “private investigator” Lisbeth Salander (aka an incomparable atomic bomb of unbridled badassery), who incidentally was the one who landed him in his pile of professional excrement in the first place. Together they uncover the strange and troubling truth of the Vanger family and young Harriet’s mysterious disappearing act.

I wouldn’t not recommend this book, but I also wouldn’t suggest making time in your busy schedule to read it. If you’re bored and actively seeking something to do, by all means, go for it.

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo was first adapted to film in 2009 by Swedish director Niels Arden Oplev. It remained incredibly true to the book and won the BAFTA film award in 2011 for best foreign language film.
 
The only criticism I really have is that this movie is very long (152 minutes). That paired with the fact that it’s subtitled makes it require some commitment to watch. It’s not the kind of movie you can have on in the background while you peruse Pintrest. You have to pay attention, and you have to pay attention for a long time. Like the book, this adaptation contains some extraneous detail and tends to move a bit slowly.

One of the biggest differences between this film and the American remake is the artistic interpretation of Lisbeth Salander. Oplev and actress Noomi Rapace create a very unaffected, unemotional, and almost sociopathic Salander. While she’s in no way a villain, she is bristly and very difficult to connect with. This is somewhat true to her character in the book, but in the movie she seems almost inhuman. However, that’s not in any way a testament to poor acting. Rapace was incredibly committed and convincing in her role.

This movie is acted well, written well, shot well, and worth a watch. So drink some coffee, put the internet away, and glue your eyes to the screen.

Rating : 

An American remake was released in 2011 by Oscar nominated director David Fincher (The Social Network, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button). The film also won an Academy Award for film editing, was nominated for four others, and won AFI’s 2012 film of the year. It also won the prestigious Carolynn Staib, double-thumbs-up stamp of approval and inspired me to go as Lisbeth Salander for Halloween.

Much, nay, most – almost there – all of the extraneous detail was pruned away to reveal a thrilling story arc that was in no way slow, and the characters were infinitely more relatable than in either the novel or Swedish film. Especially Lisbeth. While she is still exceptionally independent, cunning, and capable, she possesses a fragility that makes me want to protect her despite the undeniable fact that she’d never, ever need it.

In both novel and original film, Salander seems to act on some kind of detached, moral code. A good example is in the infinitely cringe-worthy tattoo scene. For those who need a refresher, she breaks into the home of a man who’d raped her, ties him down, gags him, and forcibly tattoos “I am a rapist pig” in giant letters onto his abdomen. In the original film she’s entirely unemotional, as though merely doling justice for some unspecified crime. In the American remake Salander is clearly exacting revenge. She is livid and she is terrifying. 

"Hold still, I've never done this before."

Another example is in her relationship with Mikael Blomkvist, with whom she has a brief physical affair. Near the end of the story, Salander abruptly and entirely cuts Blomkvist off. In the novel and original film it seems as though this is because she’s developed feelings for him and can’t be bothered with the inevitable emotional complications this will cause. In the American remake Lisbeth cuts ties after feeling betrayed by Mikael. Again, the motivations for her reactions were made much more emotional than calculating. Most of the time I would have a problem with this because of the whole “emotional female” stereotype, but because she was so aloof before, I genuinely think it’s an improvement.

But those are all testaments to superior writing/direction and don’t really spotlight the stellar acting ability of Roony Mara, who before The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo was virtually unknown. I think it’s safe to say that I have never believed a performance more than hers in my life. She was so invested in her role that I couldn’t see the actress behind the character if I tried. Her performance got her nominated for the Academy Award for best actress in a leading role, and she probably should have won. And talk about a committed physical transformation (see photo below).

This movie may be perfect. Really. It’s beautifully directed, written, shot, and acted, and is, in my opinion, a manifestation of how the book should have been. Soak it up, movie buffs, you won’t hear me say that often.
 
Rating: 

As always, the novel and films can be purchased via the links below. Thanks for tuning in and see you next week!

   

Cinematic Saturdays - Let the Right One In by John Ajvide Lindqvist

Those of you who watched last week’s collaborative video review of the Twilight Saga may have fallen under the impression that I hate vampires unconditionally. While I’m certainly averse to bad writing (sorry Stephenie Meyer), and feel that vampires have been grossly overrated and overdone in recent years, there are still a handful of interpretations that I feel are worthy of recommendation. Anne Rice, author of Interview with a Vampire, handled the mythical monsters beautifully; as did Swedish novelist John Ajvide Lindqvist, author of today’s book, Let the Right One In.

Title: Let the Right One In

Author:  John Ajvide Lindqvist

Publisher: Quercus

Publication Date: January 2004

Pages: 513

Genre: Horror, Drama

Rating: 

Summary (from Goodreads): 

It is autumn 1981 when the inconceivable comes to Blackeberg, a suburb in Sweden. The body of a teenage boy is found, emptied of blood, the murder rumored to be part of a ritual killing. Twelve-year-old Oskar is personally hoping that revenge has come at long last—revenge for the bullying he endures at school, day after day.

But the murder is not the most important thing on his mind. A new girl has moved in next door—a girl who has never seen a Rubik’s Cube before, but who can solve it at once. There is something wrong with her, though, something odd. And she only comes out at night....

Warning - contains spoilers: I’m just going to throw it out there right now that the synopsis provided by Goodreads makes the book sound really lame. It’s not. Though it’s dark and, at times, genuinely upsetting (are we noticing a theme with my posts?) it’s an impeccably crafted story that possesses true originality.

Lindqvist paints a heartbreaking portrait of protagonist Oskar, a broken twelve-year-old boy struggling to cope with his parents’ recent divorce and merciless bullying at school. While his mother is physically present, he has no allies, and so is immediately fascinated by the strange girl who moves in next door. Spoiler alert; she’s a vampire. And unlike some vampires I could mention, she’s a legitimate threat.

Though the story of her transformation is never fully clarified, Eli is an eternally adolescent girl forced to consume human blood to survive. Talk about being dealt a rough hand. Her diet isn’t just a preference, nor can it be avoided. If she abstains for too long she will die, and becomes violently ill if she attempts to eat anything else. Because she doesn’t age, everyone she grows to care for eventually dies, and because she’s prone to the clumsiness and moodiness of infinite puberty (yikes), she cannot hunt her own victims lest she leave a mess behind and get caught. Enter Håkan.

Håkan’s character is such a raging, disturbing bummer. Especially when we realize that he’s a reflection of what Oskar will inevitably become.

Drawn to Eli as a lonely adolescent, Håkan ran away to be with her. He developed a science for murder that guarantees both Eli's anonymity, and her dependence on him. Because she is, quite literally, the only “person” in his life, he has strong feelings for her; feelings that are wildly inappropriate when he enters middle age. He’s increasingly jealous of the little boy next door, and has no choice but to continue bringing Eli fresh blood in the hope of winning her affections. He becomes sloppy as tensions grow, and is eventually arrested for murder. He later (before any trial can begin) offers himself as a meal to Eli to ensure that he never sells her out. It’s soon after Håkan’s death, and a brush with death of his own, that Oskar runs away with Eli to begin the horribly depressing cycle all over again.

Contrary to the sparkly allure, hormonal infatuation, and convenient “vegetarianism” of other vampires (and those that they attract), the characters of Let the Right One In are drawn together through mutual, desperate loneliness. It’s one of those stories in which even the villains are so complex that they almost don’t exist. The wrongdoers, like Oskar’s incomprehensibly harmful bullies, only do wrong out of their own desperation. …Be prepared to cry.

The Pros: This book boasts a masterful story arc as well as immaculate character development, and the frequent, flawless execution of metaphor and foreshadowing. It’s also the most “realistic” vampire story I’ve ever read, as though Lindqvist catalogued all possible conflicts and dramas that could arise from the presence of vampires in our world before he ever started writing. Beautifully done.

The Cons: This book also contains several gratuitous scenes depicting pedophilic violence that I feel in no way enhanced or reinforced the story. The only purpose they serve is to disturb the reader, and so I found them offensive and gimmicky. 

Let the Right One In was first adapted to film by Swedish director Tomas Alfredson in 2008. I happened upon it on Netflix on a day when I had nothing going on, and decided on a whim to watch it. This was before I’d read the book or even knew it was adapted from a novel, but I immediately fell in love. As soon as the credits rolled I was on my computer researching the story, and checked the book out at the library the next day.

It’s rare to find a horror movie that can also move me to tears, but Let the Right One In did just that. I was simultaneously frightened by, and felt an insatiable need to rescue, every character.

Because John Ajvide Lindqvist, author of the book, also wrote the screenplay, the film was incredibly true to the novel, and didn’t go overboard with the stereotypical devices of horror film. There was no over-the-top makeup, manipulative music, or scream-inducing monsters jumping out from shadows. And despite 90% of the film falling on the shoulders of child actors, it was surprisingly genuine. Kåre Hedebrant (Oskar), and Lina Leandersson (Eli) were amazing in their roles, despite each only being twelve years old at the beginning of filming.

This movie is deliberate, quietly unsettling, and to be frank, perfect.

Rating: 

An American remake called Let Me In was released in 2010 by director Matt Reeves (Cloverfield). When I found out this was in production, I flipped my proverbial s*** and immediately began bugging my husband to take me on opening night.

While Let Me In was not as true to the book as the original film-adaptation (and didn’t exactly clean up at the box-office) I felt it was a great effort. Cinematically speaking, there was a particular, single-shot scene that just freaking blew my mind. Without giving too much away; “car accident.” Watch and wait.

I think it’s safe to say that Let Me In is more based on the original film than the book itself, and alters a handful of very basic things. The characters Oskar and Eli, now played by Kodi Smit-McPhee and Chloë Grace Moretz, were changed to the more generic names “Owen” and “Abby.” I think this was to solidify the notion that these children could theoretically be anyone. And that’s really the genius of this story; the suggestion that there is danger where you absolutely least expect it. It’s a shockingly cerebral story that sticks with you long after it’s over.

This film is beautifully shot and acted – again by exceptionally talented young actors that we would do well to watch out for in the future. The only real qualm I have with Let Me In is that it is more of a stereotypical horror film. There are several points in the movie when Moretz (Abby) looks positively nightmarish. The use of freaky contacts, prosthetics, makeup, and buckets of fake blood do detract a bit from the story. I wouldn’t say that made me love it less, but it did make me love it in a completely different way.

Abby...you're not looking well.

Rating: 

If you’re interested in reading the book, or adding either movie to your collection, all three can be purchased via the links below.

Thanks for tuning in!