Rooney Mara as The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

Okay, here are two things you need to know before you read my review of the American remake of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.

1) I’ve read all three books of Stieg Larsson’s “Millennium” trilogy (the first in the series, “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo” is the book upon which the current David Fincher-directed film is based).

2) I did not see the original Swedish film starring Noomi Rapace.

Now that we got that out of the way, here’s my review:

There’s always an inherent danger to seeing film adaptations of books you’ve read. So often your expectations are built up to such an extent that what you see on screen never matches the theater in your imagination when you read the book. This was a key problem I had while watching the recently released American remake of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.

On the whole, the film is what you would expect from David Fincher, arguably the best director in the current crop of auteurs: a slick, stylishly photographed, fast-paced taut thriller. But it’s also confusingly plotted (if I hadn’t read the book, I swear I would not have understood HALF of what was going on), intensely formulaic, packed with disjointed scenes that seem to have no relation to the previous ones. Overall the tone is so lumbering and ponderous I kept wondering if perhaps Fincher (who should have won an Oscar last year for directing The Social Network) was the best choice to direct this film, which from the dismal early box office returns, may not morph into the franchise it was probably intended to be.

And that is a shame because the ingredients are all there: A hugely popular potboiler, a charismatic, if socially autistic, kick-ass heroine (or anti-heroine), a sexy, rugged leading man, a terrific film director and an Oscar-winning screenwriter. Unfortunately, as dazzling as the film appears at certain points (including its stirring opening credits), it seems straitjacketed by a gravity of self-importance missing in the novel. Yes, there is rape, murder and mayhem in the novel (and in the film, of course) but believe it or not, the book is-gasp-entertaining. . And there lies the fault of the American remake: It’s a way too literal, heavy-handed interpretation of the Larsson book. Maybe it needed a lighter touch from another director? Nolan perhaps?

As the crusading investigative reporter accused of libel, Daniel Craig plays Mikael Blomvist in a strangely reticent, low-key manner. (Thankfully, he’s not as oversexed as the ridiculously irresistible babe magnet in the series–although Craig is hot enough that his overpowering desirability to females of all ages would be plausible). This bit of direction makes it very easy for Rooney Mara, as the eponymous title character, to steal the film effortlessly. Emaciated to the point of weightlessness, her pasty face riddled with multiple piercings, Mara, clothed in black leather regalia, unleashes the torments of Lisbeth Salander’s lifetime of harrowing abuse and neglect with a stunning fervor. Whether she’s fighting off a potential mugger or exacting creative revenge on her rapist, Mara is like a cyberpunk fury out to right the wrongs that have not only been visited upon her in her young life but other women as well. She’s an avatar of seething, uncontrolled anti-social rage. It’s a smashing performance and I hope she garners an Oscar nod for her stellar work. Unfortunately, it’s too bad that the rest of the film doesn’t measure up to her level.

Most of the supporting cast, though, turns in fine, dependable work. As the aging patriarch of the troubled Vanger dynasty, Christopher Plummer is his usual resourceful, charming self. Joely Richardson also acquits herself well as an estranged member of the clan (even if there is a MAJOR change in the film as opposed to the book regarding her character) while Stellan Skarsgard is suitably sinister. Robin Wright, as Blomvist’s longtime colleague and lover, is wan and wasted.

The screenplay by Steven Zaillian, who won an Oscar for Schindler’s List, is muddled and chaotic although I do wonder if slapdash editing (maybe to cut the film down to a decent running length) is the culprit here. However, Jeff Cronenweth’s cinematography is appropriately moody and atmospheric.

For people who haven’t read The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, the current American incarnation may have its absorbing moments. But they are eclipsed by incoherent storytelling, coupled with skimpy character development, making it nearly impossible for viewers to emotionally invest in the action unfolding on screen. If you have read the book, then maybe it’s time for a brisk re-read rather than get caught up in Fincher’s excessively dreary tale.

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