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 (082710)
Anybody can wear a dragon tattoo, play with fire, or
kick a hornet's nest, but there's only one Noomi Rapace. The 31-year-old Swedish
actor (née Noomi Norén) created such a sensation in Niels Arden Oplev's surprise
art hit
The Girl with
the Dragon Tattoo that she seemed born to play the role of tattooed,
pierced, black-leathered, female avenger Lisbeth Salander. Ms. Rapace is now the
public face of the trans-Atlantic pop-cultural phenomenon, which began with
author Stieg Larsson's posthumously published "Millennium Trilogy" of novels —
21 million copies sold since 2005, according to the publicity — and which is
still thundering onto US movie screens.
The Girl Who Played with Fire, the second film in the series, is a thoughtful
but bloody advance along the lines of
Dragon Tattoo as
well as a deeper investigation into the puzzling, emblematic lead character.
Lisbeth evidently has no end of scores to settle. Director Daniel Alfredson has
done a fine job of keeping the continuity between the two chapters seamless.
While this film does stand on its own, you’ll get more enjoyment and
understanding of what’s going on if you’ve seen
The Girl with the
Dragon Tattoo. The film is out on DVD and is still playing locally at the
art houses. Technically, The Girl Who Played with Fire feels a bit more hastily
prepared than its predecessor -- it hit theaters mere months after
Dragon Tattoo
was
released. The pacing is inconsistent at times and some of the story’s more
complex relationships could have used a bit more fleshing out, but considering
the films were made by different directors, the seamlessness between the look
and feel of the two is actually quite amazing.
Either way, you’ll realize that Lisbeth Salander is one of the most fascinating
movie characters in decades. Tiny in stature, she is seething with emotions and
the painful scars created by a violent, unhappy childhood. However, those
emotions are mostly in check. She is like a coiled viper that strikes when the
moment is right. Those who want to catch her and kill her are in for the fight
of their lives.
The dramatic hook, a topical but readily dispensable investigation into
international human trafficking, works as a double narrative charm for director
Daniel Alfredson and adapting screenwriter Jonas Frykberg. It not only gives
free reign to author Larsson's preoccupations with sexual kink, but also draws
in Millennium magazine reporter Mikael Blomkvist (played by series regular
Michael Nyqvist).
It was the sympathetic Mikael, you'll recall, who teamed up in
Dragon Tattoo with
the initially wary Lisbeth to thwart a family of Nazi-esque Swedish
industrialists guilty of abducting and mutilating young women — Lisbeth's
number-one issue. For all her tough attitude, Lisbeth is the ideal professional
victim. She developed her fighting skills after being raped, tortured, and
wrongfully institutionalized in her youth, but seems forever doomed to become
yet again the unwilling plaything of ugly, flabby, perverted old men, the kind
who are in urgent need of having the words "I am a sadist pig and a rapist"
tattooed on their chests. Larsson and his adaptors thus manage to have it both
ways: They put on a lurid sadomasochistic peep show, then deal out the righteous
punishment for it.
Mikael's main function in the trilogy is to act as Lisbeth's guide dog, sniffing
out messes for her to clean up. He has his career and a girlfriend named Erika
(Lena Andre) but he remains devoted to the girl with the tattoo, even from a
distance. Journalist Mikael and computer hacker Lisbeth spend the least time
together of any crime-fighting team in history. They never meet face-to-face
until the finale of Played with Fire — their preferred means of communication is
the Internet.
At its crackling best, the Girl series spins a Bourne Trilogy-style tapestry of
psychological dis-ease, corruption, and revenge. At its flimsiest, Lisbeth and
Mikael's energetic punch-outs with the sinister Zala (Georgi Staykov) and his
robotic blond behemoth Niedermann (Micke Spreitz) more closely resemble the
antics of Agents Mulder and Scully on The X-Files or its boob-tube antecedent,
The Night Stalker, with reporter Carl Kolchak battling headless bikers and
vampires. The crackling best generally outweighs the flimsiest, thanks in part
to the confused chemistry between actors Rapace and Nyqvist.
But the trilogy's lasting appeal is in the lean and hungry face of solitary
seeker Lisbeth, perched on a windowsill gazing out on the nighttime sights of
Stockholm, like a gargoyle. Anonymity is her secret weapon. Androgynous
Lisbeth's investigations are aided by the fact that in a hoodie she looks like
any teenage boy. Actor Rapace (she's married to actor Ola Rapace) has worked in
Swedish TV and on stage, but her Lisbeth Salander is the role of a lifetime, a
deadly yet vulnerable character who ends up relying entirely on herself —
despite the occasional tryst with her friend Miriam (Yasmine Garbi). The Girl
Who Played with Fire is more about establishing basic trust between human beings
than catching the bad guys. We'll have to wait until the third and final
adventure to see if the center holds. The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest,
produced in 2009 and having already played Europe, opens in the US in October.
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