Dragon Tattoo Trilogy Blu-ray Review
Does size matter?
Reviewed by Jeffrey Kauffman, December 4, 2011
Nothing screams Christmas like murder, rape, misogyny and revenge tattooing, so it's completely understandable why
the powers
that be chose December 21 for the upcoming release of the hotly anticipated English language version of
The Girl
With
the Dragon Tattoo, directed by David Fincher and starring Daniel Craig. The publishing world had never seen
anything
quite like the
Dragon Tattoo trilogy, and certainly not the fairly small and insular Swedish publishing industry,
which found itself at a
rather unlikely epicenter of worldwide fascination when Stieg Larsson's "Millennium Series" became a sensation of
unparalleled proportions. Larsson's unexpected and untimely death (weirdly similar to another Larson's—Jonathan—
who experienced
similar posthumous success with
Rent) only seemed to up the interest level in the series,
which had become such a phenomenon by the time the first filmed adaptation was in production that what had initially
been planned as
three long form made for television movies was rethought as three separate feature films. When the original novels
were optioned for
(small) screen adaptation, no one had any idea what a literary phenomenon they would become, but as soon as
The Girl With the
Dragon Tattoo stormed international best seller lists, the originally announced longer unedited versions of all
three films were soon greenlit for broadcast in a number of European and Scandinavian countries. With the
overwhelming success of the theatrical cut of
The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, the television films became a
"must see TV"
event which perhaps can only be appropriately compared (despite the obvious differences) to the
United States' fascination with
Roots decades ago. Perhaps because the two other telefilms in the series
were released prior to the theatrical cuts, the theatrical versions didn't quite attain the overwhelming success that the
first film did. The
original theatrical versions were released on Blu-ray both separately and as a
boxed set early in 2011, and now
the
really original extended television movie versions are being released to capitalize on the press which the
Fincher
film will no doubt generate once it hits multiplexes in a couple of weeks.
My colleague Dustin Somner did a great job summarizing the theatrical cuts of each title here:
The Girl with the
Dragon Tattoo Blu-ray
review
The Girl Who Played
with Fire Blu-ray
review
The Girl Who
Kicked the Hornet's
Nest Blu-ray review
This review will deal not only with general thoughts about the series but perhaps more importantly with at least some
of the salient differences
between the theatrical and the extended cuts. There are no doubt a couple of semi-spoilers included below, so those
who aren't familiar with the
stories of the three films might want to jump to the technical aspects of the review if they don't want any secrets to be
divulged.
The two main characters of the
Millennium Series are muckraking journalist Mikael Blomkvist (Michael Nyqvist),
who as the trilogy gets underway finds himself in quite a bit of legal hot water after he's set up in an investigation and
is found guilty of libel. Meanwhile professional computer hacker and undercover investigator Lisbeth Salander (Noomi
Rapace) has been working to ferret out what really happened to Blomkvist. The two lives intersect when Mikael is hired
to find out what happened forty years ago to a young girl who just mysteriously vanished one day. Blomkvist and
Salander end up working together to disentangle two generations of family lies and duplicity as they attempt to
understand what may be a massive cover-up of a serial murderer's horrific "career." The relationship continues to
evolve and change through the subsequent films in the series.
The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo
Fans of the
Millennium Series know that the original title of
The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo was actually
Men Who Hate Women, and without divulging any major secrets about the first outing's plot, both the main
villain of the piece as well as a character who takes advantage of heroine Lisbeth Salander certainly fit
into that misogynist category. What is fascinating about this new longer cut of
The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo,
though, is how hero Mikael Blomkvist might be at least tangentially shunted into a class of women disrespecters if not
outright haters as
well. This telefilm's two episode version runs a total of 3:06:00 more or less (as do the other two outings), a little over
a
half hour than the
already fairly long theatrical cut, and at least
some of that time is taken up detailing Mikael's less than chivalrous behavior with regard to Lisbeth. As the
excellent overview documentary included on the fourth disc of this new set makes clear, Stieg Larsson probably wanted
to be a character like Blomkvist, and so he created a dashing investigative journalist who had a way with women, but
some of the behavior on display in this longer version borders on the cavalier, at the very least, and subtly recolors his
burgeoning relationship with Lisbeth when compared to the theatrical cut.
The fascinating thing here is that the whole issue of trust between Lisbeth and Mikael (and really, between Lisbeth and
anyone) is at the heart and soul of the
Dragon Tattoo trilogy, for Lisbeth is one of the most fascinatingly
complex, deeply scarred characters in contemporary fiction. Rapace is a marvel in this role, with an icy veneer of steel
almost completely masking what is just barely evidently a glimmer of vulnerability inside. But this new extended cut
gives Lisbeth some slightly added nuance, especially when she sees Mikael's obvious interest in other women.
There are a couple of other interesting additions here (it should be noted that all of the new "episodes" have different
opening credits, much more like a traditional television series or miniseries, and that the second episodes of each of the
trilogy feature quick recaps to bring the audience up to speed). The biggest one here, albeit handled fairly quickly, is
the presence of a traitor in the ranks of Mikael's magazine "Millennium" (based on Larsson's own magazine "Expo,"
which you can actually see copies of lying around the offices of "Millennium" in some scenes scattered throughout the
films).
The Girl Who Played With Fire
Part of the problem with developing a series which gets off to such an incredible start is keeping interest and logic
progressing through the
subsequent outings, and there's a considerable drop-off in the second film. This isn't to say that
The Girl Who
Played With Fire isn't
interesting enough, for it is, but it delivers little of the visceral excitement and palpable suspense that
The Girl With
the Dragon
Tattoo did. The biggest issue with this middle outing is that Larsson decides to go a fairly typical "damsel in
distress" route, though
considering the fact that it's Lisbeth who is that damsel, it seems a bit odd, given her steely demeanor and at least
ostensible lack of
vulnerability. Larsson stretches credulity a couple of times in
The Girl Who Played With Fire, including a late in
the story denouement
about the relationship between two characters that seems like something out of an Agatha Christie novel by way of
Douglas Sirk.
Despite the overly melodramatic tone which runs throughout
The Girl Who Played With Fire, this second iteration
does allow the
character of Lisbeth to let down her guard—albeit
very carefully—in a way which she simply never does in
The Girl With the
Dragon Tattoo. In one instance, this leads to devastating effects for a supporting character, but in another,
perhaps more meaningful
way, the relationship between Lisbeth and Mikael blossoms, however fitfully.
Despite this extended version running nearly an hour longer than the theatrical cut, there's surprisingly little difference
between the two
versions. Perhaps the biggest difference is the cliffhanger ending given the first episode of the extended made for
television version, one
which deprives the audience of knowing the fate of two characters, a fate which is more or less simultaneously depicted
in the theatrical cut
after their lives are placed in jeopardy. There's also more development given to the policeman's involvement and his
slow (or at least less inexplicable) change of heart when Lisbeth is sought on murder charges, as well as a bit more
time spent on Lisbeth's Caribbean sojourn. The most interesting
thing about this version is how scenes are shifted around in different order and cut differently when compared to the
theatrical cut.
The fact that Part 1 of the telefilm version of
The Girl Who Played With Fire ends with a cliffhanger points out the
central issue with
the series' post-
Dragon Tattoo offerings. They settle somewhat into formulaic tropes, made all the more odd by
virtue of the fact
that Lisbeth is such a distinctive and decidedly non-normative character. It's literally like shoehorning a round peg into
a square hole, and
there are bound to be some rough edges to make that approach fit.
The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets' Nest
Larsson descends into Ludlum-esque paranoia in this last installment in his series, and that makes
The Girl Who
Kicked the Hornets' Nest in many ways the least credible of the series. Picking up from where
The Girl Who
Played With Fire left off, we find Lisbeth in less than robust health after her run in with a couple of bad guys, both
of whom will continue to haunt her throughout this outing. The central plot arc concerns Lisbeth being put on trial for
attempted murder, and yet so much is spinning around the troubled heroine, events which clearly show she's in danger
and is
being framed, that it begs the question as to why someone somewhere (other than Mikael and his team, of course)
doesn't wake up and smell the Scandinavian coffee.
The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets' Nest also suffers from the
odd dichotomy that plagued
The Girl Who Played With Fire, namely that a heroine this obviously self sufficient
and defiant could ever be in much peril to begin with.
If you can overcome what amounts to a gargantuan suspension of disbelief,
The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets'
Nest is probably
actually more viscerally exciting than
The Girl Who Played With Fire, if never quite as involving as
The Girl
With the Dragon
Tattoo. Once again, as with the second outing, Mikael and Lisbeth are separated for virtually the entire film, making
the iconic match up
which made the first film so memorable almost irrelevant in a way. Credulity is certainly strained here: the level of
conspiracy enveloping
Lisbeth is so over the top as to be positively silly (why not just kill the poor girl and save precious taxpayer dollars?).
But once the
conspiracy is established
Hornets' Nest is often quite exciting, especially once it moves to the endgame of the
trial, when Lisbeth's
many (as in
many) tormentors finally get their comeuppance.
As with the second set of episodes,
Hornets' Nest's changes with regard to the extended version consist largely
of reordered
scenes, although a couple of subplots are given more development (again like
The Girl Who Played With Fire),
notably a malicious
and threatening email campaign against Mikael's coworker as well as a break-in at Mikael's apartment which leads him
to hiring the security
firm which had once employed Lisbeth. There's also more time spent detailing the rather massive conspiracy that's at
the heart of the story.
A couple of extra beats are quite appealing, especially as the story wraps up. One of these is a quick montage
featuring Lisbeth reuniting
with her first guardian, and a perhaps more important, albeit discursive, one is the final shot of this version, which
posits Lisbeth back in her
perch in the bay window overlooking the serenity of the sea. The theatrical cut simply has a long shot of the sea itself,
and there's a certain
feeling of resolution and peace for Lisbeth which seeing her ensconced there brings home to the viewer that wasn't
apparent from the
theatrical version.
