The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo

Much like the brilliant Zodiac, The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo is an atmospheric thriller whose primary focus is on the detective and the obsessive joys to be found in cracking codes, piecing together puzzles and unpicking mysterious happenings. Wannabe ‘tec Emma Rowley is intrigued.

When high-profile Swedish investigative journo Mikael Blomquist is indicted for libel and has to make himself scarce for the sake of his beloved magazine Millennium, powerful industrialist Henrik Vangar spots an opportunity to use his skills to solve a decades-old disappearance. The missing person is his niece, Harriet, and Henrik suspects that she was murdered by a member of their own family. He hires Milton Security to make some background checks on Blomquist and once satisfied, invites him to the isolated Vangar family island, where he tells him his story. Blomquist accepts the job and settles into a cabin on the Vangar estate with boxes of documents and photographs for company.

At the same time, Lisbeth Salander, the researcher who checked out Blomquist for Milton, has become interested in the old hack, largely because – unusually for the people she performs background checks on – there is nothing dodgy in his dossier. On the other hand, Salander has a secret: the peerless research she turns in for Milton is based on the illegal surveillance of the targets’ computers, and she uses the same methods when called upon to assist in Blomquist’s investigation.

The detective duo finds that the Harriet mystery is only the tip of the iceberg, launching them on a journey that takes in Swedish high society, Nazi sympathizers, serial killers and corporate cover-ups.

The film has some problems, and these can be traced back to the novel it’s based on. A massive doorstep of a book, it not only has space for a twisty-turny adventure but in-depth characterizations of its leads, a blow-by-blow account of their investigations and most importantly, the contextualization of the whole shebang within Swedish culture. By remaining so respectful to the novel and trying to cram in all of its key events, Larsson’s dissection of Swedish society gets short shrift – even at the lengthy 152 minute running time.

The film's problems largely dissolve if you’ve read said book, but without it to intermediate, aspects of the film appear adrift and clichéd. How does Lisbeth seemingly access any computer she needs? How does the villain hide his crimes? How the hell do Nazis fit into any of this beyond their useful rent-a-baddie status? These are questions that the novel not only answers satisfyingly but which are central to its thesis.

One of the film’s undoubted strengths is its superb casting. Michael Nyqvist’s Blomquist is a likeable character but it’s Noomi Rapace’s Lisbeth Salander who steals the show with an utterly convincing performance. A whip-thin goth with Asperger’s syndrome, a keen intellect and a fierce line in self-defence, Salander trusts no-one (for reasons that will be revealed as the trilogy progresses) and metes out her own uncompromising version of justice.

The blossoming relationship between the two is engrossing. Unusually for a male-female onscreen couple, they don’t share a romantic connection. Rather, these two are brought together by a respect for each other’s moral code and intellectual powers. Blomquist’s professional habit of reserving judgement and his own straightforward nature make him the only person able to see past Salander’s odd exterior and request her help. In return, she becomes his secret weapon.

The film is extremely violent and although its graphic depictions of attacks are vital as the story unfolds, violence – particularly sexualised violence against women – is so common in cinema that it’s hard to mentally separate the prurient from the political. For example, the trashy Gerard Butler thriller Law Abiding Citizen (like many revenge thrillers) uses the rape and murder of a woman and her daughter as a catalyst and excuse for the protagonist’s own grotesque killing spree. Larsson’s purpose, however, is political – the novel's (and film's) Swedish title is Man Som Hatar Kvinnor – Men Who Hate Women, and institutionalised misogyny is its key target. But since the title was switched to something sexier, more generic and more commercial, it’s no wonder there’s confusion.

Even with these problems, the film is one of the finest and most absorbing thrillers we’ve seen in some time. It’s especially good on the details of the investigation; Blomquist’s piecing together of the events of a holiday some thirty years previously, which he begins with a single photograph, is particularly thrilling.

An American remake is already in the works but don’t delay. Without its Swedish setting and social context, it won’t be more than a bland imitation of the original. There’s also little chance the central pairing of Rapace and Nyqvist will be bettered. Rapace is the girl with the dragon tattoo. Accept no substitutes.

Rating on a scale of 5 bloody corpses: 4

Release date: UK & US – out now
Directed by: Niels Arden Oplev
Written by: Nikolaj Arcel, Rasmus Heisterberg, Steig Larsson
Cast: Noomi Rapace, Michael Nyqvist, Lena Endre, Peter Haber, Sven-Bertil Taube, Peter Andersson
Rating: 18
Running time (mins): 152