Review: "Gone Girl"

Director: David Fincher
Runtime: 149 minutes

When I first heard that director David Fincher was attached to direct Gone Girl, I have to admit that my reaction was an elitist wrinkling of the nose. Why, after already directing the US version of The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, was the master behind The Social Network and Zodiac adapting another flavor-of-the-month page turner? Isn't it time he started setting his sights a little higher? But then I remembered that I had been none too keen about Fincher's decision to direct "that Facebook movie," and I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. I even gave Gillian Flynn's novel a chance, and despite some resistance on my part, I ended up going along for the twisted little ride that it was. And now that I've seen Mr. Fincher's adaptation - written by Ms. Flynn herself - I can once again rest easy. Gone Girl is not quite an instant classic or a masterpiece, but it's a damn good piece of filmmaking that represents a perfect pairing of material and artist. 

For those not familiar with or rusty on the plot, the basics are the sort of thing you could find in the average TV movie about spousal abuse. Nick and Amy Dunne (the brilliantly cast duo of Ben Affleck and Rosamund Pike) have been married for five years, yet both have fallen on financial hardships in the recession. Somewhat against her will, Amy lets Nick drag her back to his home town in Missouri to care for his sick mother and rebuild his life. Yet Amy is very much a Manhattan kind of gal, and the move to Missouri is the equivalent of being fired from Vogue and being forced to take a job at People Magazine. Regardless, there's an anniversary to celebrate, so it's time to get ready.

And then, as the title indicates, she's gone. Has she been killed? Kidnapped? What does Nick know, and where was he the morning of her disappearance? With the details that surface, the situation increasingly points toward one person: Nick. At one point, investigating office Gilpin (Patrick Fugit) sardonically remarks to lead investigator Rhonda Boney (Kim Dickens), "The simplest answer is often the correct one." Yet Boney counters with, "Actually, I've never found that to be true." This brief exchange is the perfect encapsulation of Gone Girl as a novel and film, where events and people are rarely quite what they seem to be, regardless of actual innocence or guilt.

What's most impressive about Flynn's screenplay is her sharp ability to condense her own work. Novels and screenplays are drastically different forms, yet Flynn has adapted to the new medium rather effortlessly. Unlike Mr. Fincher's Dragon Tattoo, which occasionally suffered from laborious slavishness to the source material, Gone Girl feels as complete as the novel, even with the handful of abbreviated or missing passages. Every scene is crucial, and every minute is earned, and the finale - far too good to spoil - leaves one demanding more. Emotional depravity, which seeps into the film's very soul, can grow tiring if stretched out for a long period of time (the film is nearly 2 and a half hours), but Flynn and Fincher have concocted a potent and addictive mix. 

Fincher has always been an immaculate visual storyteller, and his perfectionism serves the material well. Working with a band of recent collaborators behind the camera, he as given the story a polish that elevates the material and demands that it been brought out of the imaginations of readers, and definitively imagined on screen. Cinematographer Jeff Cronenweth keeps the lighting and color palette firmly in Fincher's wheelhouse of sleek greens, whites, and browns, lushly accentuating even the grimiest of locations with cinematic flair. Editor Kirk Baxter (working solo after doing Fincher's last two films with Angus Wall) keeps the story clipping along with sharp, unobtrusive cuts that add another layer of crisp precision to the plotting. And returning composers Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross have, against the odds, contributed another icy, ambient electronnic score to add momentum or dramatic heft when needed. Rather than strain to create memorable themes, Gone Girl's score provides a near-constant sonic backdrop that adds a creeping sense of urgent malice to this increasingly warped story of abuse and deceit.

And while Fincher has long been regarded as a extremely confident visual storyteller, his skill with actors has often been overlooked, even after the Oscar nominations for Jesse Eisenberg and Rooney Mara. Fincher's directing remains the biggest star of Gone Girl - the man is hardly one to his actors own the screen entirely by themselves - but to dismiss Affleck and Pike's performances as merely following their leader does them (and the rest of the ensemble) a huge disservice.

Even without his experience under ridiculous amounts of media hassling, Affleck is a strong choice for Nick. The slightly glazed over look of his eyes and lack of tension in his jaw subtly and immediately gives life to a man in an insane predicament. His relationship with Amy may have soured a bit, but there's still the need to pretend for the cameras (and, to a lesser extent, the audience) that he adores his wife and wants nothing more than to see her again. Lending Mr. Affleck able support is Carrie Coon as his twin sister Margo, a character I often found unconvincing on the page, yet totally at ease with here. With her acerbic, no-bullshit attitude and her genuine fear about what Nick may or may not have done, Coon is an invaluable asset in the film's first act, which traces the early days of the investigation. Fellow supporting players Tyler Perry (yes, that Tyler Perry) and Neil Patrick Harris play against type with effective results, while Fugit and Dickens are similarly effective as the key investigators. 

As in Dragon Tattoo, there's quite a bit of set up before the the full narrative truly gets going, but thanks to Flynn's self edits, the film's first act is efficient at setting the stage without dragging on and on with exposition for those who know what's in store. Because when it comes to revelations and playing with versions of reality, Gone Girl moves from its strong beginning to its deliciously nasty middle and end. 

This is largely due to how - I'll refrain from spoilers - Flynn's story is able to work in Amy's perspective, despite her absence and possible death. When we're seeing Amy on screen in flashback, or merely hearing her voice reading excerpts from her diary, she is easily the most compelling thing in all of Gone Girl. Pike, an accomplished actress in England who has yet to really break out Stateside, is totally arresting in the role. Though I periodically wished that Flynn would have lingered on certain moments longer (despite the length, I never found that the film was dragging) that would have given Amy room to leave an even more striking impression with the viewer. Even so, what Pike has pulled off here is still wonderfully diverse, weaving together different ideas who Amy is (was?), depending on whose version of the story is being told. Her casting was already a great idea, but she has done more than simply coast on her physical attributes. We can debate whether Noomi Rapace or Rooney Mara made a better Lisbeth Salander, but it'll be hard for anyone else to fill Pike's shoes for Amy Dunne. 

In its own unconventional way, Gone Girl eventually emerges as a two-hander, despite the supporting characters in both Nick and Amy's lives. It's a story of marriage, after all, even if one spouse might be a murder victim. "People told us and told us and told us - marriage is hard work," goes an entry in Amy's diary, and the ways in which Gone Girl takes this notion to such darkly funny conclusions, are an critical part of why the film succeeds as well as it does. For all of the mystery and salacious details, Flynn and Fincher - without becoming glib - inject enough shots of humor into the proceedings to keep the film from descending into a state of perpetual gloom and tragedy.

There's been talk of Gone Girl as a devilish satire of modern media sensationalism, although I found the film to be a bit more straightforward. A sense of humor does not automatically classify a dark genre picture as a satire, just as a few funny lines now and then don't make Mad Men a comedy. There are subversive, even mocking, elements to Flynn's tale (the Nancy Grace figure played by Missi Pyle), but Gone Girl is still a mystery at its core. The darkest depths of relationships are also so present, and such wide-reaching satire seems like a tertiary goal at best. However, the "devilish" part is absolutely true. No matter what comes to light in Gone Girl, there's always one more little dig, one more little twist of the knife. We think there has to be a bottom that brings the pit of human filth to an end. Gone Girl, however, suggests that there is no such end, and in such a way that the very notion will leave a sick grin etched on your face, whether you like it or not.

Grade: B+/A-

Review: "House of Cards: Season 1"

Whether or not Netflix's much-hyped House of Cards will have a significant impact remains to be seen. There is a certain pleasure to be derived from the fact that, starting yesterday, the entire first season was available. On the other hand, with the power to blast through an entire season in a day or two, the wait for the next season (which begins shooting this spring) will likely feel even longer than the usual wait between seasons for high-end series. There's also less chance to discuss the specifics of individual episodes, and speculate about what happens next. Contrast this with, say, Homeland, which always prompts discussions (good, bad, or neutral) after each new episode airs. There's room to let developments really breathe. However, on the flip side, there's also more room for certain plot elements to fall out of people's attention, as they go through the week between episodes going about their lives. 

With this new method of release, Netflix has done something that, on paper, seems borderline counter-intuitive. In an age where writers, directors, and actors are flocking to TV (which, despite the Kardashians and Honey Boo Boo, is still very much in a Golden Age), Netflix has condensed the TV viewing experience. Despite having different directors and writers across its 13 episode freshman season, House of Cards could honestly be described as one 13 hour movie, chopped up into broadcast-length episodes. Having recently finished the first season, I can confidently say that this isn't a bad thing.

Adapted from the British series (which was adapted from a novel) of the same name, House of Cards zeroes in on the back-room dealings of the power-elite in and around the government in Washington D.C. At the center of it all is Democratic House Majority Whip Francis Underwood (Kevin Spacey). Francis  has been cheated out of the Secretary of State position, a job he was promised upon the election of the incoming President (Michael Gill). Rather than sulk, Underwood decides to carefully manipulate and undermine those around him to work his way into the Secretary of State position, or perhaps further up the ladder.

Appropriately, House of Cards is filled with plenty of characters, all of whom are engaged in various forms of manipulation and deception. It's a plot set-up that could easily become a labryinthine nightmare. Yet under the careful guidance of creator/head writer Beau Willimon, and a talented stable of directors (led by David Fincher, who directs the first two episodes and exec. produces), every plot development is kept in check, without needlessly holding the audience's hand. As the series weaves its tale of backstabbing and manipulation, it still understands how to treat its characters as people, rather than pawns to be shuffled around the narrative chessboard. 

This is most evident in the arcs of three major characters: Underwood, his steely wife Claire (Robin Wright), and Pennsylvania Congressman Peter Russo (Corey Stoll). In Fincher's two-part kick-off for the show, the Underwoods are effectively shown as quite the ambitious and icy power couple. It's a dynamic that both actors handle effortlessly. We can see in their exchanges that while there may be love in their relationship, for the time being their main concern is how to get what they want at any cost. Affairs don't matter too much to them, which is for the best considering that Mr. and Mrs. Underwood both engage in them. What matters at the end of the day is that they can count on each other when it comes to the power struggles that so thoroughly pervade life in the nation's capitol.

Yet once Mr. Fincher leaves the director's chair, House of Cards elegantly deconstructs the Underwoods, allowing them to function as people with blood flowing through their veins. They remain ambitious and calculating, and often unlikeable (moreso with Francis), yet across the 13 episodes we at least gain an understanding of them, and see enough sides of their personalities to make them worth the investment. We may not approve of many things that they do, but they remain compelling figures. 

The same can also be said for the significantly more sympathetic Peter Russo. After a well-handled introduction in the pilot, Russo's character is somewhat sidelined. At times, the scenes with his secretary/girlfriend (Kristen Connolly) threaten to throw off the show's pacing. However, around episodes 4 and 5, the narrative finally calls on him, and Russo's subsequent arc is far and away the series' most emotionally involving. Stoll came to the public's attention for his richly entertaining portrait of Ernest Hemingway in Midnight in Paris, yet here the actor proves he's equally capable of digging deep into thornier, murkier emotional territory, and the results are heartbreaking.

The series' fourth major player comes in the form of ambitious journalist Zoe Barnes (Kate Mara, older sister of Rooney). Of the big four characters in the series, Zoe changes the least. As such, she's more interesting (and her material stronger) in the season's first half. While she obtains a newfound sense of purpose as the season closes, the role, though often well-written, is the only major part that doesn't quite have a big moment to shine. Thankfully, Mara injects enough verve into the role to make her more than a generic spunky journalist out to prove herself. In the early episodes, she often does the best job of handling the sharp dialogue, and never tries too hard in her delivery to make certain lines sting. Mara also has a good chemistry with Spacey, and the relationship between the two characters helps gives the series such a strong start in regards to both character and plot dynamics. 

Supporting roles are also handled effectively, though often they're used more as plot devices than real people. Gill's President Walker is, purposefully, not much of an entity. More intriguing are Connolly (whose character thankfully avoids being a mousy wallflower) and Ben Daniels (as Claire's old flame). The two have roles that could have easily been little more than distractions, but their characters are fleshed out enough so that they, like the central quartet, are worth following. 

Backing up the performers are the tart, tightly written scripts. Some have complained that Underwood's asides to the camera/audience are overdone, but I can only partially agree. They certainly take getting used to, yet for the first half of the season, they're often quite enjoyable. One in particular, which takes place during a eulogy, of all places, is absolutely hysterical. As the series progresses, the asides show up less frequently, which is appropriate given the more somber events in the plot. When they do show up in later episodes, they can sometimes feel unwelcome. However, the device is ultimately successful, though perhaps season 2 ought to focus on being more careful with how to use them. 

The rest of the writing is quite strong, however, filled with dialogue ranging from deeply human to richly stylized. It's a tricky balance to pull off, yet series creator Willimon and his writing staff have pulled it off quite smoothly. It doesn't hurt that the scripts are brought to life by such strong performers, and fleshed out by the outstanding production values. Netflix reportedly spent quite a lot on House of Cards' first season, and it shows. The entire project could be screened in theaters as a 13-hour mega-movie considering that it's so well-crafted. Fincher's directing in the first two episodes beautifully sets the tone, with elegant camera work and gorgeous lighting that brings out appropriately murky shades of yellow, green, and white. The editing is often quite crisp, and keeps scenes on edge when necessary, yet isn't afraid to calm down in the quieter moments. 

By the time House of Cards cuts to the closing credits for the last time, it's clear that Netflix clearly has high hopes for the series. Release format aside, this is a show that could easily stand as a "prestige drama" on HBO or Showtime (it certainly looks as good or better than the output of those two networks), and remain captivating even on a week-by-week basis. It might not be the game changer some have tried to hype it as, but it has certainly delivered when it comes to quality. It's a gorgeous production filled with excellence in every department, and it marks a bold step forward for Netflix as a provider of original content. Francis Underwood is a man who knows how to plan ahead, to ensure his longevity. Let's hope Netflix takes the same level of care with this series.

Season 1 Grade: A-

2011 DGA Nominations: And the race gets weirder...

As many critics awards as their are across the nation, at the end of the day it's really the guild awards that act as better indicators of who's winning AMPAS' favor, especially in a year as uncertain as 2011. We certainly saw that last year when The Social Network won just about everything under the sun, until The King's Speech trounced it at the guild awards and on Oscar night. The SAG, PGA, and WGA have all announced their nominees, leaving only the Director's Guild. And with their nominees, they've thrown a wrench into some Oscar campaigns, while giving others a boost.

The Nominees:

Woody Allen - Midnight in Paris

David Fincher - The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

Michel Hazanvicius - The Artist

Alexander Payne - The Descendants

Martin Scorcese - Hugo

Who got a boost: The biggest winner after today has to be Fincher and Dragon Tattoo as a whole. Ever since the first screenings, the film was being labeled as one that would make little to no contribution to the awards race. In the past few weeks the film has scored with the PGA and WGA, and the DGA nod is just icing on the cake. For the film to miss out on a Best Picture nomination and/or Best Director nomination is becoming increasingly unlikely. Star Rooney Mara may have missed with the SAG, but could still end up as a surprise Best Actress nominee, as one of many nominations the film looks likely to score now. So even though Dragon Tattoo isn't necessarily a threat to win the top prize, at the very least it can consider itself a strong contender, which is quite to comeback considering all of the doubters.

Then there's Woody Allen and Alexander Payne. Payne's film has generally stood a better shot, but there was always the chance that he would get pushed out by contenders with "bigger" films. After today, though, he's become even more of a sure thing, though the actual win is doubtful. The same goes for Allen, who could score his first Best Director nomination since Bullets Over Broadway (1994). If either of these two men takes the DGA prize, however, it will only serve to further upset the Best Director race.

Who took a hit: Unlike Woody Allen, whose film also launched in early summer, Terrence Malick was allowed any love from the DGA, or any major guild for that matter. Considering the divisive nature of Malick's film, however, it's not entirely surprising. Drive's Nicholas Winding-Refn and War Horse's Steven Spielberg, however, should probably not get their hopes up for the remainder of awards season. I'm sure Refn had a fan base within the DGA for Drive, but at the end of the day the voters favored established names (well, aside from Spielberg). Of course, there's always room for surprises come Nomination morning, but knowing the DGA's close alignment with the Academy, I suspect the chances for the above-mentioned trio are at long last dead. Such a shame...at least for the first two. War Horse has, to be honest, felt like nothing but an afterthought and an obligation rather than a legitimate contender.

Review: "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo"

When it was announced that Tomas Alfredson's vampire tale Let the Right One In (2008) would receive an English language remake, cinephiles were left scratching their heads. Alfredson's Swedish film was an outstanding entry in the vampire genre, one filled with memorable sequences and images, and a climax that left many shuddering in their seats. So even though Matt Reeves' remake (titled Let Me In) was generally well-received, the question still remained: how is the remake justified other than as a means to get money out of those audience members with a fear of subtitles? At the end of the day, there really wasn't. Mr. Reeves' film is not a bad; it's actually nicely done. The only problem is that it feels redundant, as though Alfredson's excellent take was being pushed aside after not even being given proper recognition. The question remains, then, is there ever a time when an English-language remake or re-adaptation is actually worth more than a few extra dollars? In the case of David Fincher's The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, the answer is a resounding 'yes'.

The film, a re-adaptation of the first installment of Stieg Larrson's hugely successful crime trilogy, isn't based off of anything remarkable. Though the trilogy does paint an intriguing picture of a highly corrupt Sweden, it also suffered its share of flaws that kept it from rising above rather pedestrian levels. The one aspect the stories have always had going for them, the real draw, comes down to one character: bisexual punk-hacker Lisbeth Salander. Previously embodied by Noomi Rapace, the role is now brought to life by Rooney Mara, who made her mark last year in the opening scene of Fincher's The Social Network. The question, then, was whether she would be able to move from that bit part to a leading role, and she has. Her stoic, steely gazes never grow repetitive or lazy, even though there's not as much meaning behind them as the story (or the series' die hard fans) would like us to believe. Mara is prettier and more delicate in appearance than Rapace, but this only makes her more effective when she unleashes her rage. She is, like just about everything else in this version of the story, superior to the Swedish counterpart, even if the character remains little more than a very cool idea.

For, like Mara's performance, Dragon Tattoo's story and characters are not exactly filled with great depth. Remove Lisbeth from the equation, and you have the potential to end up with little more than CSI: Stockholm. Thankfully, with the script from Steven Zaillian and under David Fincher's direction, the story reaches what is likely its best iteration possible. After a very brief opening scene, the film plunges us into a three minute credits sequence set to Karen O and Trent Reznor's cover of "Immigrant Song," filled with constantly shifting, inky images. It's dark, grungy, and weird, and it gets the film off on the right foot, even if the film itself never quite reaches the same high. It's telling, then, that the film's best moment comes straight from Fincher's mind, and not the source material. That said, in returning to the serial killer/crime genre (previously: Se7en, Zodiac), Fincher's meticulous gifts have elevated Larrson's story and characters as much as he can, all while making the whole affair come across as infinitely more cinematic than any of the Swedish versions.

A good deal of this has to do with Fincher's outstanding team of collaborators. First and foremost is cinematographer Jeff Cronenweth, who lights and colors the scenes in a way that makes the slightly washed-out nature of the digital photography still feel rich, as opposed to drained. Scoring duo Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross (who picked up the Original Score Oscar for The Social Network) return as well. Originally stating that they would try a more traditional, orchestral score, it's clear that the pair changed their minds later. Their music, more than fitting for the style, is filled with strange and ominous electronic sounds that only make the film, even in its more mundane moments, feel absorbing. How well individual pieces will hold up on their own is questionable, but when it comes to working with the images, it's just about flawless work. There's also the editing duo of Kirk Baxter and Angus Wall, who picked up the Best Editing Oscar for The Social Network, who help piece the film together beautifully, accentuating Fincher's more fluid pacing. These three elements come together beautifully in a near-wordless stretch where Lisbeth and Mikael, in different locations, finally realize who the hidden villain of the mystery is. So even though a great deal of the plot is burdened with exposition, scenes like this help restore a sense of story telling order.

One of the story's biggest hurdles is that it keeps Mara's Lisbeth and Daniel Craig's Mikael Blomqvist apart for such a long time. Here, however, the pair's time apart, though still a little too long, feels more purposeful and elegantly composed. Zaillian's script also makes the smart decision to show Lisbeth doing some research on an enemy of Blomqvist's before they even meet. It ties in nicely to how the script has changed the ending, and prevents the resolution of that subplot from feeling like a really cheap form of deus ex machina. Additionally, Zaillian's script makes changes to the two leading characters, both of which work for the better. Lisbeth, while still cold and reserved, has the occasional flash of vulnerability, which adds a shade or two of characterization missing from the Swedish film, even though it's nothing remarkable. More impressive is how Zaillian has handled Blomqvist. In both the books and the Swedish films, the character has stood out as a painfully obvious author-insert (Larrson himself was something of a crusading journalist/womanizer). This version of Blomqvist, despite sleeping with two women over the course of the story, still feels more fitting for the story. In making Mikael less of a ladies man while casting the much more charismatic Daniel Craig (although just about anyone would have been better than Mikael Nyqvist) in the role, the character finally achieves the right balance. Other roles, filled out by Christopher Plummer, Stellan Skarsgaard, Geraldine James, and Joely Richardson, are all nicely handled, even when considering their relatively limited screen time.

The biggest problem, as stated before, is simply the source material. Zaillian's alteration to the ending allows for resolution and adds a different angle to Lisbeth and Mikael's relationship that can be explored for the sequels (Fincher will likely direct the second and third films back-to-back, at a still-undecided time). A pity, then, that he didn't have the courage to depart further from the source material still. Had Zaillian, under Fincher's guidance, taken the characters and overarching plot, but completely reworked the scene-by-scene story, we could have had a truly brilliant entry in the cinematic crime genre. What we're left with however, is still worthy of admiration. The cast is game, the direction beautiful, and the artistic and technical aspects flawless. And most importantly, the film, through its differences in narrative and in style, feels justified. I'm not going to deny that making an English-language version of the film was a cash grab. It absolutely was. Thankfully, this is one cash grab that, despite its limitations, rises above its origins to the point where it deserves to become the definitive version of this story through level after level of icy Scandinavian hell. In Fincher (and Mara, and Craig, etc...) We Trust.

Grade: B/B+

David Fincher's Dragon Tattoo (fixed)

I initially wanted to hold off on commenting on the leaked red-band trailer for David Fincher's re-adaptation of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, but since I can't seem to stop watching it, I might as well go ahead. First, for those who haven't seen, here's the camcorder-video, taken from somewhere in Europe (where the trailer is already showing in theaters). **The red-band trailer has since been removed from Youtube by Sony. Here is the (non HD) green-band trailer:

Now, with any US re-do of a major foreign film, there's sort of an unwritten rule among movie lovers. We're supposed to decry, or at least be highly skeptical of, Hollywood's shameless need to rip-off foreign work, all so that American audiences don't have to *gasp* read subtitles (!!!). However, this is one remake where I'm inclined to throw skepticism to the wind, and fully embrace the new version. Why? Because it's not entirely a remake. It's more of a re-adaptation, meaning that the film makers, including screenwriter Steven Zaillian, went back to Stieg Larsson's book, rather than the Swedish film. And according to an interview several months ago, Zaillian made the bold choice to alter the source material, which is refreshing in an age when so many literary adaptations try to be slavishly faithful to the text.

And with Larsson's books, that's a good thing. The Millennium Trilogy has certainly become a major literary phenomenon, but I've never been entirely sold on the hype (and so begins the umpteenth iteration of my rant on these books). Lisbeth Salander, originally played by Noomi Rapace, is the main draw in the trilogy. A bi-sexual punk/hacker with a dark (daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaark) past, she's a wonderful idea as far as characters go. That said, in Larsson's books, she comes across as a great idea of a character who isn't fully utilized. This is, in part, due to the fact that she competes for narrative importance with Stieg Larsson, er, I mean, Mikael Blomqvist, a crusading investigative journalist. I was never that drawn to Larsson's painfully obvious author insert (or, Gary-Stu), and his portrayal in the films by the unbearably bland Mikael Nyqvist certainly didn't help matters. As far as stories go, the trilogy has plenty of interesting moments, but was somewhat undone by Larsson's drawn out plots. The second novel, "The Girl Who Played with Fire," despite being my favorite, begins with an overlong introduction set in the Caribbean that has nothing to do with the rest of the intricate plot. This section was wisely cut for time on screen, one of the few things that was good about The Girl Who Played with Fire, which was something of a train wreck over all. To sum it up, Lisbeth Salander is a great idea who deserves to be the star of a better series of books...

..or maybe just better movies. This trailer may not have any dialogue, but it speaks volumes about why I'm so excited for Fincher's take on the story, and why I think it will blow the Swedish version out of the water. The images, many filled with Fincher's signature of blue and green tints, are intense and gritty, and Rooney Mara looks appropriately eerie/otherworldly as Lisbeth. We'll have to wait until December to debate whether she's better than Rapace, but she certainly seems capable of filling the role. More immediately impressive is Daniel Craig as Blomqvist. Not only does he seem less bland in the role, but he could potentially make Blomqvist a more interesting character. Zaillian's script reportedly makes Blomqvist less of a womanizer, which should help the character feel like less of a blatant stand-in for Larsson. Also along for the ride, behind-the-scenes, are Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, who wrote the excellent (and Oscar winning) score for Fincher's The Social Network. You can get a small taste of Reznor in the trailer; the cover of Led Zeppelin's "Immigrant Song" is performed by Karen O and Nine Inch Nails, and adds a great, grungy vibe to the gritty visuals and icy locales. Sony is clearly having fun with the film's tough-as-nails image, labeling it the "feel bad movie of Christmas," and that only makes me more excited. All hail King Fincher.

Year of the (girl with the) Dragon (tattoo)

Stieg Larrson's "Millennium Trilogy" became a mini-phenomenon in the US and a mega phenomenon everywhere else, on both page and screen. And even after the the last of the generally limp Swedish film adaptations was rolled out Stateside in November and you thought it was all over...NOPE. Likely-future-Oscar-winner David Fincher's American film version is currently filming and will hit theaters this December (it was originally set for late 2012). But of course, with a new adaptation comes a new Lisbeth, and that brings us to the good stuff.

The folks over at Joblo.com have two medium-size images from W Magazine featuring our new Lisbeth, Rooney Mara, and they're pretty impressive. As far as looks go, I think Noomi Rapace still has her beat, but as far as performance goes, well, we'll just have to wait and see, but this film is already sounding much better than the original. First was the news that Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross would be composing the score, following their phenomenal work on Fincher's The Social Network. And even better, according to this article (or something pulled from W...?) scribe Steven Zaillian has actually made...wait for it...changes:

The script, which captures the novel’s bleak tone (its original Swedish title was Men Who Hate Women), was written by Academy Award winner Steven Zaillian, who wrote Schindler’s List, and it departs rather dramatically from the book. Blomkvist is less promiscuous, Salander is more aggressive, and, most notably, the ending—the resolution of the drama—has been completely changed. This may be sacrilege to some, but Zaillian has improved on Larsson—the script’s ending is more interesting.

"You're damn right it's more interesting."

I know I'm beating a dead horse here, but I've never been completely sold on Larrson's stories. Lisbeth Salander always seemed like a concept or emblem rather than a fully realized idea, who really deserved to be the star of better novels handled by a better author. And by making such drastic changes, Lisbeth may finally have found a better creator in two forms: a screenwriter and a director.

One last note: I also loooove the change in character for Mikael Blomqvist. The role always felt like a transparent author-insert (or "Gary Stu") for Larrson, and as brought to life by He Who Shall No Longer Be Named, not terribly convincing or interesting. The decisions to make the character less of a womanizer AND to cast the much more talented Daniel Craig in the role should balance each other nicely. Hopefully the same will be true for Robin Wright as Blomqvist's co-worker Erika Berger, a role whose poor writing in the Swedish films often left acclaimed actress Lena Endre looking confused most of the time.

"The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest" - REVIEW

The single eye-catching, fabulous image in The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest, is that of punk hacker Lisbeth Salander (Noomi Rapace) walking down a dingy corridor in full uber-goth regalia: lots of spikes, clinking metal accessories, dark eye make-up, and a mohawk that looks like it belongs on top of a Roman helmet. This is the ultimate Lisbeth, the borderline fantasy look of Stieg Larsson's creation, and like the character in the novels, it's sorely out of place in material that is far beneath it.

So many cinematic adaptations of novels are beaten up by those who read the source material first. It's usually a case of fans feeling as though the story or characters have been gutted for some less-than-artistic-reason. Sadly that's not the case with the "Girl" films, because their source material was never that strong to begin with. Lisbeth Salander really deserves to be the star of a much better series, and yet unfortunately she's trapped in a so-so trilogy and equally so-so film trilogy. In fact, the only thing overly positive I can say about Hornet's Nest is that it's a step up from the god-awful previous installment, The Girl Who Played With Fire.

Picking up immediately from where Fire left off, Hornet's Nest begins with Lisbeth being flown to a hospital, bloody, dirt-covered, and with a bullet lodged in her brain. As she begins to make her painful recovery, Mikael Blomqvist (the blaaaaaaaand Mikael Nyqvist) begins work on a publishing a sprawling account of the injustices Lisbeth has endured, seeing as her trial will begin as soon as her medical recovery is complete. Meanwhile, the Evil folks at The Section, a select group of corrupt members of the Swedish government, try to figure out how best to deal with the hospitalized Salander.

The big problem with all of this boils down to two major points, both of which are taken directly from the novel. The first is that the central duo of Salander and Blomqvist spend even less time together than they did before. If my memory serves me correctly, the pair share barely two scenes together. For Salander's part this is bearable, but not so for Blomqvist. As embodied by Nyqvist, the character has become even less interesting than he was in the previous films. Having him bounce off of Salander is the only thing that made Larsson's lame author-insert remotely intriguing. But the bigger problem here, though, is that Lisbeth's role feels diminished in what should be her story. We spend much more time looking at the team of the Millennium Magazine in this installment, and even though it's necessary, it doesn't really help that much. Lisbeth is the character worth rooting for; she's the victim of horrific injustice, not Blomqvist or Erika (Lena Endre, looking slightly confused in most scenes).

Worse, the film seems to be consciously trying to fix some of the mistakes that director Daniel Alfredson and screenwriter Jonas Frykberg made in Fire, namely, the involvement of the police force characters. Officers Bublanski and Modig, who are given so much time in the books and at least have a decent number of lines (well...sort of) in the film, are close to non-entities in Hornet's Nest, which only illustrates what a mistake it was to try and give them even table scraps in the last installment. And speaking of table scraps, that's more or less what Rapace has to work with. The story requires her to simply be silent for a good portion, and then when opportunities for her to shine arise, they rarely come through. Granted, the silence is part of the character, but here it just feels frustrating. The only thing really satisfying about the performance are the 3 (maybe four) times that Salander smiles, and I'm using that term lightly; they're a perfect fit for the character, and are among the few, if not only, little details in the film that work.

And then, when the film finally goes through its lumpy, misshapen plot, complete with a tacked-on fight after the legal drama is over, it ends on a frustrating note. I won't spoil it, but let's just say that while it's not supposed to be a big moment, the timing and editing don't really allow the scene to sink in, making the strange cut to a wide shot of Stockholm (over which the credits roll) feel like an awkward question mark. It's a shame really that such a remarkable character is being given such a thoroughly unremarkable send-off. As I've said before, these films only make me welcome the American remake even more. The saying goes, "if it ain't broke, don't fix it," but as far as the source novels and their Swedish adaptations are concerned, there's plenty that's "broke."

Grade: C

"The Social Network" - REVIEW

Last night I was lucky enough to attend an early screening of the increasingly buzzed-about The Social Network, aka "that Facebook movie with the weird trailer." Writer Aaron Sorkin and actor Armie Hammer (who plays a pair of WASPy twins) were in attendance for a Q&A session after, which I'll touch on briefly in the review, which only adds to the excitement. Considering its recent gain in awards potential buzz, I was particularly excited to see what David Fincher and crew had to offer, and they certainly don't disappoint.

It would (and a few months ago, was) be easy enough to dismiss a project like The Social Network as a sign that Hollywood has run out of ideas, and is really scraping the bottom of the barrel. After all, how interesting could the founding of a damn social networking site be? Some code gets strung together, and BAM, popular website, right? Not exactly. Quite a bit of drama went down in the founding of the massively popular site, and director David Fincher and writer Aaron Sorkin have done a very good job of putting the story (from Ben Mezrich's novel "The Accidental Billionaires") on screen in a very compelling manner.

Perhaps the best decision that Sorkin made in his screenplay was to keep the film from siding with any of the three main angles involved (Mark Zuckerberg, Eduardo Saverin, and the Winklevoss twins). In taking various scenes that happened according to the three wildly differing depositions, he's turned it into a sort of Rashomon-style story, only you only see everything once, and never know whose point of view it's from. While this does have some slight drawbacks (you don't really "feel" for someone even when they get screwed), the decision overall is a success. Zuckerberg could easily been an easy villain/anti-hero, yet the final scene seems to tell us to hold off on making a final judgement. Another small issue is that, given Sorkin's love of (rapid-fire) dialogue over story (his words, not mine), at times the characters all feel less like fully-developed people, and more like extensions of Aaron Sorkin (to make an unnecessary Inception reference, these would be the different sides of his subconscious populating his dream world). As such, it's also not much of an actors piece, despite solid work across the board from its young and capable cast. Eisenberg is conniving and hard-to-read, Garfield is sympathetic, and Armie Hammer and Max Minghella are suitably flustered as Zuckerberg's first enemies. Roles played by Rooney Mara (our new Lisbeth Salander), Rashida Jones, Justin Timberlake, and Brenda Song are all solid, but without enough to make them terribly memorable.

But the issues pretty much stop there. Even though I'm not sure I'd call this Fincher's strongest effort as a director, this is a very good film that perhaps owes more to its screenplay. Sorkin's rapid-fire exchanges really suit the material and setting here, all very smart Harvard students, computer programmers, and lawyers for whom such off-the-cuff cleverness seems plausible, and as a result, is highly entertaining. And even with the above-mentioned love of dialogue, Sorkin has still crafted an immensely engaging and compelling story. Helping him along are the film's second and third strongest assets: the editing and Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross' score. The two together bring an incredible sense of life to a bunch of conversations of computer code, blogging, web design, and legal questions, pushing the film's tone at points to pseudo-thriller (and I mean that as a high compliment). Even a scene of Andrew Garfield's Eduardo Saverin looking at an envelope on his floor is made compelling simply by the placement of the pulsating music. The film runs two hours, yet when I realized that I was at the final scene, all I could think was, "but wait, please tell me there's more to see."

So while its characters may not exactly "pop" or feel like full-on, flesh-and-blood people, they certainly aren't one-note caricatures; they're simply part of the Aaron Sorkin universe. And with David Fincher at the helm, directing such a solid ensemble of young talent, it's hard to say that this is a bad thing. This is a well-acted, excellently crafted, and occasionally very funny film that does a great job of telling a story that most people probably wouldn't want care about on the surface. A Facebook status message might be shallow, and hell, the whole site might be completely vacuous, but the story behind it is certainly not. This is so much more than just "a dumb Facebook movie."

Grade: A-/A

Lisbeth Salander, meet...Lisbeth Salander

It's too big to ignore now. Stieg Larrson's "Millennium Trilogy" has exploded across America after becoming a sensation in Sweden (and the rest of Europe). As such, the much-followed American remake/re-adaptation (courtesy of Se7en and Fight Club director David Fincher) has been reported on to death with one question in mind: who will play Lisbeth Salander? Well, after rumors ranging from Carey Mulligan (huh?) to Ellen Page,

Fincher has at last picked his leading lady from a group of unknowns. The winner? Rooney Mara, sister of Kate (Heath Ledger's daughter in Brokeback Mountain).

While I wish Noomi Rapace (of the thus-far uneven Swedish films) had reprised the role, that's not going to happen. Still, of the group chosen to audition for Fincher (in full costume/make-up, no less), Rooney was one who caught my eye; she seems to have to right facial structure to pull of the somewhat androgynous punk-hacker. Of course, having a role in Fincher's upcoming The Social Network probably didn't hurt either. The film also stars Daniel Craig as journalist Mikael Blomqvist (who should be leagues better than the terrible Mikael Nyqvist) and Robin Wright as Blomqvist's co-worker and lover Erika Berger. It's due to be released next year (originally it was set for 2012), which means that even though the Swedish version of The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest is due in October, it won't be long before Salander-mania makes it back to the States. Here's hoping for the best; the films haven't done too much justice to the books (which aren't that great to begin with), so I'm hoping that Fincher will bring a much needed sense of energy to the story.

Teaser trailer for David Fincher's "The Social Network"

Well aside from the cool music, there's not much to make heads or tails of. If anything, I'll see it for Fincher and star Jesse Eisenberg, although these sorts of based-on-very-recent-events films always make me slightly nervous. Let's hope is doesn't suffer the fate of, say, Oliver Stone's W.