The late Swedish author Stieg Larsson's book Män som hatar kvinnor, the first in a trilogy, directly translates to "Men Who Hate Women." In America it's better known as The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, and possibly best known as The Book with the Ubiquitous Presence on Public Transportation. It's part of the zeitgeist these days, though I'd have to consult a professional trendspotter to suss out whether the book captured the public's imagination first, or if it was the film adaptation that deserves the credit. Already a hit in Europe, it proved an art-house sensation in America and an English-language adaptation is fast on its way.
Does Sweden need a pick-me-up? For decades, the country's biggest cultural contribution has been ABBA and now it's best known for gritty thrillers and bloody child vampire movies. Was the film adaptation of Mamma Mia! really that big of a blow to the national consciousness? Come to think of it, it probably was.
Even if the Swedes are glooming it up, at least they can say that the sisters are doing it for themselves. The anti-heroine of Let the Right One In was a badass little girl who could single-handedly mow down Team Jacob, and the titular Girl with the Dragon Tattoo is Europe's answer to Dexter Morgan, Lisbeth Salander. Once the U.S. adaptation hits theaters the bisexual goth hacker will be the alt-it-girl for nerds everywhere. She rides a motorcycle, never smiles, has few compunctions about burning people alive, and sucks down cigarettes like she's auditioning for Mad Men. As an empowered female, she's doubtlessly part of the work's appeal.
But how feminist is Dragon Tattoo? Taking its original title at face value, the film is actually about men who hate women, and it has them in spades. The most notable is the parole officer who first sexually assaults Salander and later rapes her. After she gets her revenge, he disappears from the action and the incident is never brought up again. Are these character-building moments for Salander? Perhaps to show that she's a tough customer, especially since she uses her body as bait. But I'm not sure how allowing herself to be raped sets her up as a strong female character. Other critics have described the scene as exploitative; I'm sticking with "makes you feel icky for having seen it."
A different sort of discomfort arises from Salander's relationship with the male protagonist. He's Mikael Blomkvist, a journalist wrongfully convicted of libel who is investigating the decades-old death of an industrialist's niece in the months before his jail sentence. Salander has been scoping him out for quite some time - she knows he'd been set up because she's hacked into his computer. When she figures he could use some help on his investigation, she sends him an email that cracks a code he hadn't figured out. Blomkvist isn't angry that he's been snooped on; rather, he enlists Salander to help him solve the murder. One can imagine the scene being reappropriated for a romantic comedy. When Amy Adams hacked into Justin Long's email, it was love at first byte! But that scenario actually isn't so different from what actually happens, since Salander up and decides to sleep with Blomkvist one night (she's on top, natch) and they become criminal investigators with benefits. She's the man in the relationship, not only because she's the sexual aggressor but because she doesn't want to cuddle afterwards. Of course, it's not hard to be the dominant partner when you're as much of a blank slate as Blomkvist. Michael Nyqvist plays him with a lack of emotion that equals Salander's but without the repressed intensity. It's hard to see what she sees in him. He's middle-aged and fairly average looking, and his bona fides as a crusading journalist are only mentioned in passing. If anything, she sleeps with him out of pity. The sexual politics of Dragon Tattoo are questionable at best.
So the eroticism is either uncomfortable or lacking and the murder mystery is fairly by-the-numbers. How to explain Dragon Tattoo's appeal? Noomi Rapace as Lisbeth Salander. Like Mickey Rourke in Iron Man 2, Rapace gives the character a smolder that compensates for what's lacking in her characterization. Assuming that Salander's complex history is gradually revealed throughout the series, it's necessary for the script to play close to the vest, but she ends up being more of a cypher than a mystery. Thanks to Rapace, she's enthralling rather than maddening. Even when she's allowing herself to be raped, or initiating ostensibly meaningless sex, we believe there's a reason for it all.
Dragon Tattoo isn't a great movie. It's a decent thriller. It's certainly a long one. It's reasonably stylish. But above all else, it's Salander's franchise. She's the reason for its rebranding, the reason why its first installment isn't about men who hate women anymore. Look at her. She's a badass. Whether the trilogy can survive on her charisma alone remains to be seen. I'd certainly like future installments to be less rapey, and I'm far from hooked. Why it's a global phenomenon, I can't tell, presence of a tatted bisexual hottie excluded, of course. As a problematic artwork, I'm ironically more interested in The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo than I am with 2010's better films (Inception, Toy Story 3). I think it comes back to that title. Men Who Hate Women. I can't help but think that it refers not just to the characters but to Stieg Larsson, too.
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