"The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo," a Swedish adaptation of the award-winning crime novel by Stieg Larsson, is an above-average film that takes risks and doesn't fully abide by rigid cinematic formulas, blending two fairly different genres into a single whole.
The film is firstly a lighthearted detective story, following disgraced journalist Mikael Blomkvist (Michael Nyqvist) as he investigates the disappearance and possible death of the niece of former businessman Henrik Vanger (Sven-Bertil Taube), with whom he has a past. But it is also a dark psychosexual thriller that concerns Lisbeth Salander (Noomi Rapace), a punk computer hacker who gradually begins to trace Blomkvist's investigation while dealing with an abusive legal guardian (Peter Andersson).
One of the film's strengths lies in the ample time it devotes to developing each protagonist individually before bringing them together organically. It's certainly an odd pairing. While Blomkvist is an upright, simple and amiable guy, Salander is a total badass, violent and unforgiving.
Once the two finally meet, "Tattoo" establishes terrific character interaction. Every single one of their scenes together is fantastic for one reason or another, be it the awkwardness of their getting to know each other or the electricity of their brainstorming sessions. While Nyqvist and Rapace both give excellent performances, I could see Rapace's character becoming a pop-culture icon.
"Tattoo" is a long, dense film that delivers an enormous amount of exposition through well-edited montages that showcase historical records, black-and-white photos, files and computer screens. The information is never overwhelming or confusing and the plot's various curveballs will keep you on the edge of your seat.
That said, as the two leads' respective worlds collide, one begins to understand that the film isn't so much about the mystery as it is about exploring gender relations, misogyny, female sexuality and violence. Perhaps the most shocking and disturbing sequence involves Salander performing what can best be described as revenge rape on her sadistic guardian. Undoubtedly, it will be singed into your memory for a long time after the film is over. In fact, the book and film's original title, "Men Who Hate Women," is quite apt.
Unfortunately, "Tattoo" approaches these issues in a manner that is too one-dimensional. The villains are unrepentantly evil men, and there is no attempt on the part of the film to humanize them. The dialogue is simple and direct, and Salander serves as a mouthpiece for the film's morality.
There's also a problem in the film's pacing. Though "Tattoo" initially moves at a vigorous, exciting clip, it starts sagging toward the end and loses momentum. In fact, the conclusion is somewhat disappointing, as it features a prolonged denouement that unnecessarily overexplains things the viewer could easily infer by himself. Still, these things are only obvious because the viewer becomes immersed in the film's world — and intrigued by it.