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Dec 21, 2011 By Chris Tinkham Web Exclusive

At the beginning of the English-language version of The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo is an opening title sequence as elaborate as anything we’ve seen in a Bond film. But the song blaring over the credits is not an original, as in those Bond films, but a cover of Led Zeppelin’s “Immigrant Song,” sung by Karen O. How a song that was inspired by Iceland, written by an English band, and covered by an American singer is appropriate for a story set in Sweden and involving Swedish characters is anyone’s guess. Then again, this Girl With the Dragon Tattoo is directed by an American (David Fincher), was shot in Sweden, and stars Brits and Americans (and some Swedish actors) in the roles of Swedes speaking English in a variety of accents.

Based on the first book of the immensely popular Millennium trilogy by the late Swedish journalist Stieg Larsson, Fincher’s The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo comes on the heels of the Swedish film version, which was a global blockbuster before reaching the States in a limited but long-running theatrical release last year. The Swedish film, directed by Niels Arden Oplev, was well-received enough that news of an English-language production incited groans until Fincher committed to the project. If there was a shortcoming to the Swedish film, it was its production design. This version, bolstered by a massive Hollywood budget, makes up for that in spades.

Daniel Craig plays Mikael Blomkvist, a disgraced financial journalist who has lost a libel court case against Hans-Erik Wennerstrom, a powerful, renowned businessman. In the wake of Blomkvist’s downfall, Henrik Vanger (Christopher Plummer), a member of a wealthy family that operates a vast industry, wants Blomkvist to investigate the 36-year-old disappearance of Harriet Vanger, Henrik’s great-niece. Before offering the job to Blomkvist, Vanger hires Lisbeth Salander (Rooney Mara), a whiz computer hacker bedecked in tattoos, piercings and punk/goth garb, to run a background check on Blomkvist. She clears him after a thorough but covert examination of his professional history and personal doings. Blomkvist, forced by the courts to pay a substantial sum after losing the libel case, accepts Vanger’s offer and moves into a cottage on the island where the family resides. When he asks for a researcher, Lisbeth is recommended to him.

Surprisingly, and to some disappointment, Fincher and screenwriter Steven Zaillian owe a lot to the Swedish film, from how the narrative of the 600-plus-page book was condensed to how photographic images play a part in retracing a key series of events that transpired decades earlier at a parade. Fincher, a proven sultan of suspense and visual creepiness (Seven, Fight Club, Zodiac), fails to induce chills when dealing with the mystery of Harriet. One prominent motif missing from this version is the photo of Harriet that Oplev felt was so integral to his film. Judging from the hurried manner in which Plummer recites the Vanger family history and the events surrounding Harriet’s disappearance, or the flippant manner in which Henrik divulges that Nazis exist within the family, it’s apparent that Fincher had little interest exploring the subtext of anti-Semitism or generating excitement from Blomkvist and Lisbeth’s detective work. Here, the drama and suspense derive mostly from action—scenes in which Blomkvist or Lisbeth are in some sort of physical danger—and, with more lavish set designs, Fincher has the means to accomplish this.

Casting a relative unknown as Lisbeth was a wise, likely crucial, move, and Mara fits the bill. With short-cropped bangs and bleached eyebrows, her appearance is more glaring and distinct than Noomi Rapace’s in the Swedish film. As with Rapace, there’s power in Mara’s stoicism, only she and Craig can’t muster the chemistry and heat that Rapace and Michael Nyqvist (as Blomkvist) did. That’s partly the fault of the film’s structure, which spends too much time imposing side players upon Blomkvist before he meets Lisbeth.

As is the case with music in most Hollywood films these days, Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross’s original score often plays too prominently, but it works well for the most part in adding a layer of foreboding ambience. The same can’t be said of the uninspired, ironic use of Enya’s “Orinoco Flow (Sail Away)” in one scene. It’s an awkward misstep that reiterates how much more effective Oplev was in channeling emotional resonance from the story’s dramatic peaks. For viewers uninitiated to Larsson’s story, though, Lisbeth Salander remains a singularly compelling heroine, here framed within the allure of Fincher’s dark but vibrant imagery. (www.dragontattoo.com)

Author rating: 6/10