Nick Nunziata: The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo is the least David Fincher film. Not tonally, as that distinction goes to The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. That film was a vessel for the filmmaker to run wild with his palette and use all the tools a big budget film has to offer and though the end result leaves many cold it was a necessary voyage for Fincher. The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo shows the director taking a step back from the camera stylistically so as to tell a layered and culturally well-known story without relying too much on tech and the particular aggressive energy that fuels much of his work. The result is a film that unfolds in a manner quite polished and broadly appealing, and one that truly seems to staking a claim as the first in a franchise. From the very intentionally ill-fitting opening credits sequence which seemingly allows Fincher to purge some old music video demons to the crisp presentation of the material to the ending that absolutely forces an audience to impatiently wait for a sequel this is David Fincher making a serious run at creating a brand. And it works.
Renn Brown: I think there’s an interesting discussion to be had here, because what I see is in The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo is a film completely in continuity with the director’s recent work, insofar as that even means anything. Since Zodiac Fincher has been traveling down this path of crisp, digitally-shot procedurals (save for his unfortunate stop in Eric Rothian schmaltz) that in The Social Network seemed to have reached a nexus, due in part to the cutting-edge subject matter, his prescient collaboration with Reznor/Ross, but mostly to an explosive confidence in his sharp visual style and precision editing. The “Facebook movie” may not be Fincher’s best film, but it definitely represents a brightly-lit lightbulb atop the director’s head, and he mines that same aesthetic further for Dragon Tattoo. What is ultimately a potboiler murder mystery about a family of fascists with a dark history becomes an electric and breathless exercise in confident style that doesn’t attempt to revolutionize the pulpiness of the story, so much as amplify and enhance a few characteristics that interest Fincher and company. It’s certainly arguable that Fincher has turned the knob down a bit from Social Network to let the story drive things, but his camera and picture cut are as brutally surgical as ever when finding the drama in locations or the tension in scenes of dialogue. Be it our menacing first introduction to Vangar manner, the diminished and caged staging of Lisbeth Sander’s first scene of dialogue, or the contrasting ways sex and sexual abuse are filmed, the director is as present as he’s ever been behind the camera.
Nick Nunziata: The Reznor/Ross connection doesn’t register nearly as strongly here as in Social Network. Where the music ought to have been a focal point and a driving part of the film, it really wasn’t. There’s almost a sense that this is building a franchise that’s sort of a dark coin flip of the James Bond franchise with its singular leads, twisty storylines, even its jarring and tone-setting opening credits sequence. There’s a ferocity to Fincher’s style in his last film that isn’t present here. There’s not a moment in Social Network where Fincher isn’t deftly massaging the viewer whereas here the material, the brand, and the need to create a new franchise seem to be in the forefront. Additionally, with Daniel Craig as the lead there’s a cerebral coldness permeating the film that is only slightly softened when Christopher Plummer is onscreen or when the titular punky heroine exerts her way. Plummer plays a patriarch of a wealthy and mysterious family of flawed and tortured people whose secrets are many. Craig is a recently discredited reporter who is hired to solve the mystery of a missing woman. Rooney Mara is the confident, hyper cunning young hacker/researcher who completes the triumverate of leads. Each deliver very solid performances, all very different and all helping establish the odd tone and energy of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.
Renn Brown: Again, I think Fincher’s mindset of merciless editing and forceful frame composition is on full display, though without anything quite like the Henley boat-racing sequence or the litigious multi-timeline montages of The Social Network. Fincher still finds opportunities to juxtapose sequences through extended montage and play off tension from one scene into another, but it’s true that the marriage of style and material are perhaps not as graceful largely due to the needs of “the brand.” The real glaring difference is that Fincher is working with source material that is “beach read” material at best, and while Steve Zaillian admirably reweaves this murder mystery and character piece together in an interesting way, it’s just not stunning material. Of course, the dark eccentricities of Larson’s novel do allow Fincher to cut loose in a way he hasn’t for several films and–after drawing an oil-stained line in the sand with Blur Studio’s explosively grotesque title sequence atop Fincher/Ross/O’s “Immigrant Song” cover–he tackles violence and sexuality with cold intensity. His camera too exacting to be fetishistic, Fincher stages scenes of sexual abuse in ways that are deeply unpleasant, meanwhile scenes of volitional sexuality are unabashedly erotic. Any outright violence (which is actually relatively scarce) is captured candidly, avoiding exploitation. This is not Fincher’s deeper side, but rather his aesthetic interests pouring out– manifesting most obviously in the literal music video that begins the film, and more generally through the stylishness of everything else.
The Reznor/Ross score is admittedly frostier this time around, with fewer examples of memorable digital melodies wrapping themselves up in the gears of inventive editing. That’s not to say it doesn’t provide an effectively chilly soundscape for the story though, and there’s a strong chance the score will be every bit as memorable if the film scores as many rewatches with fans as The Social Network. The haunting (xylophonic?) central refrain of the film is certainly as impacting as anything from their previous score. The main difference seems to be that where previously these dark strains were hinting at deep human darkness contrasted again a much lower-stakes story of website creation and legal affidavits, here we’ve got darkness atop obvious darkness. Cronenweth’s handle on digital cinematography is as strong as ever, here using new RED sensors to capture snow-covered Swedish landscapes, glassy interiors, and grungy basements beautifully. The new Fincher look is one of exceptional sharpness, and where the exacting detail of digital photography can often turn a movie flat, here the sophistication of the production design and composition are stepped up to accommodate.
Nick Nunziata: In the end the star is Rooney Mara, first coming off as odd and vulnerable and then segueing into one of the more memorable and unrelenting film characters in some time. It’s nice to see raw sexuality come forth in a female character that isn’t built around arousing the male audience [I’m looking at you, Esterhas protagonists] but rather showcasing that it’s not a specifically male trait. Lisbeth Salander is a terrific character both in her weakness and her strength, and sometimes how both manifest within seconds of one another. It makes for unpredictable cinema. Rooney Mara does wonder with a role that requires she be ugly, beautiful, sexual, and a victim all within scenes of one another. She’s perfect casting and there’s no doubt she’s the film’s biggest asset. Even above Fincher.
Renn Brown: Rooney Mara ferociously tears into the role of Lisbeth Salander– she’s the beating, ripping, clawing heart of the film. A more sophisticated approach to her wardrobe has created an iconic character that is punk, but not in that Hollywood way that is ultimately as quaffed as any prep. Here they take the risks with her hastily cut hair, bleached eyebrows, baggy clothes, and clumsy piercings that strip her of goth chic until Lisbeth decides to unleash her sexuality, and Mara is unquestionably sexy. She’s also a damn fine actress, completely capable of owning any scene, need it convey utter vulnerability or complete strength. She’s paired with Daniel Craig at his most energized, and it’s great to see him subtly melting into a role that requires a less dashing charm than he typically relies on. Along with the Plummer’s and Skarsgards, everyone turns in a fine performance and none are lost by Fincher’s stylish camera. Again, the source material betrays them at points, as supporting characters are rarely more than they seem, one-after-the-other fulfilling their inevitable role in the story that seemed set since they first walked on. There’s a small twist here or there, but the “big one” seems more in service to misdirection than literary honesty, and once it occurs we’re left with a whole psychotic sub-plot and horrific revelation, the value to the story left rather questionable. That never stops the performances from feeling effortless and iconic, the way book characters brought to life should be.
Swinging back around to the film as a whole, Dragon Tattoo shows Fincher is still ultimately a pop director who has no interest in being the second coming of Kubrick. He just happens to be a really godddamn good pop director that, from time to time, utterly knocks it out of the park. The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo is not an example of that, but the result is still exceptional and undoubtedly reflected back out of a mirror that the distinctive director holds. Like an audio waveform that is scaled up, the peaks–representing the occasional bits of high quality in the source novel, or material that particularly interests Fincher–end up accentuated and cranked up, whereas the dips and deficiencies just flatten out and can’t really be saved. Considering this, it’s disingenuous to say Zaillian and Fincher “elevated” the source material so much as took it for a ride around the block, digging deep into the pieces that excited them and bringing a sophistication of craft to everything else. It’s a dark, dangerous, sexy ride guided by cutting edge filmmaking, but The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo is at best (for fans of the book) a substantiation of a cultural phenomenon by giving it as much weight and gloss as it can carry (and that’s only so much). For those following a director into this story though, this is really just the Fincher film before the next one.
Renn: Out of a Possible 5 Stars
Rating: 
Nick Nunziata: I found Craig to be on autopilot, but in a good way. He’s a stable center for the film though there’s a nearly complete dearth of any semblance of warmth or personality aside from when Plummer’s onscreen. It works, though. Fincher is especially adept at cold stories and in finding the nuggets of truth in it. I think he’s a filmmaker who’s managed to use the system to his will, and when he finally does a movie that’s personal to him he will be revealed as a most credible successor to whichever filmmaker of old you want to claim allegiance to. We’re watching a very complex and very cunning legend in the making and each project, including the overly maligned Benjamin Button, contributes to that. This is a soulmate to Zodiac amongst his works and a very nice end of the year treat.
Nick:
Rating:
Out of a Possible 5 Stars