The Girl Who Played with Fire (2010)

Lisbeth Salander (Noomi Rapace), the surly, computer-hacking punk girl with the dragon tattoo etched across her back, returns in the second installment of Stieg Larsson’s “Millennium Trilogy,” The Girl Who Played with Fire. Her return complicates matters, both for herself and for moviegoers.

With a perfectly timed release coinciding with the home video availability of The Girl with The Dragon Tattoo, this second volume begins about a year after the events depicted in the first story. I don’t want to spoil it or reveal too much for those who haven’t yet experienced that superb thriller, but a certain fiery incident from Lisbeth’s past, referenced in the first installment, establishes the literal meaning of the second installment’s title. But it’s Lisbeth figurative “playing with fire” that really sets this story in motion.

After spending time abroad, Lisbeth returns to Stockholm for a surprise follow-up meeting with her sadistic legal guardian, Nils Bjurman (Peter Andersson). Her bravado during this encounter quickly returns to haunt her when circumstances make her the suspect in three execution-style murders. Her hacking and survival skills keep her barely ahead of the police and others pursuing her, as she tries to right some old wrongs and clear her name.

Of course, one of the very few who believe in Lisbeth’s innocence is Mikael Blomkvist (Michael Nykvist), her crime-solving partner from the previous film. His investigative journalism magazine, Millennium, is back in full force, and they are about to go to press with a potentially explosive story implicating numerous men in Sweden’s power elite with ties to a Russian sex trafficking operation. But then, Mikael literally stumbles upon the bodies of the two idealistic young students who first brought the story to Millennium. These are two of the murders for which Lisbeth is accused by the police and the press, but Mikael doesn’t buy it; he knows her–literally and biblically–from their previous mystery-solving adventure, and he asserts that she couldn’t be guilty of these murders, especially when the two deceased investigators were working in defense of enslaved women.

Step into any bookstore these days and you’ll see Stieg Larsson’s trilogy prominently displayed and flying off the shelves; the English translation of the third book, The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest, was just released in May. After my enthusiastic reaction to the first film, I’ve been itching to read the novels but avoiding doing so, preferring to be as unspoiled as possible for the film versions being released in such quick succession. So I’m disappointed to report that The Girl Who Played with Fire lacks the intimacy, the clarity of story and character, and, most importantly, the resolution of its predecessor. Perhaps the change of director and screenwriters between the two films is the reason for the significant change; but, since I haven’t read the books yet, the problems may stem directly from the source material.

The Girl with The Dragon Tattoo is a crisp, briskly-paced thriller that blends a clever sleuthing mystery with grisly details and an oddly-matched pair of memorable characters, much like another classic book and film, The Silence of the Lambs. Both tales leave openings for sequels, but each is satisfying and self-contained enough to stand on its own merits. In contrast, The Girl Who Played with Fire is less balanced, spending far more time on the exploits of Lisbeth and her various nemeses than on Mikael, who spends most of his screen time sputtering at the misguided police efforts and his frustration from being out of contact with Lisbeth. The two get very little time together in this installment, and that absence of screen chemistry is awkwardly noticeable.

Many of the supporting characters, such as the police inspector assigned to track down Lisbeth, lack any interesting features and become a bit confusing to follow. Curiously, one of the few standouts, a hulking blond muscle man, is memorable because he actually does lack an interesting biological feature. The worst offense here is the inconclusive cliffhanger ending. After the neatly wrapped conclusion of The Girl with The Dragon Tattoo, I expected a similar sense of closure, but instead it feels like the first half of a two-part story. The only thing missing was “To Be Continued” flashed across the screen.

But let’s look at this from another perspective. I’m not a big fan of the Star Wars movies in general, but I agree with those who rate The Empire Strikes Back as one of the great movie sequels. It took a cleverly created, self-contained film and literally expanded its universe while also making it personal (“Luke, I am your father!”) for the characters. Yet, by the end of the movie, our intrepid heroes are separated and at their lowest point, with Luke missing a hand and Han Solo freeze-dried in a cargo hold. Fans worldwide had to wait three more years for resolution, brought to us by a–herd? pack? flock? Nah, how about a “cuddle”–of Ewoks. (Gee, thanks, Uncle George.)

Likewise, The Girl Who Played with Fire gets us up close and personal with Lisbeth Salander, her motives and her background, and Noomi Rapace’s intense performance is a crowd pleaser. Michael Nykvist and other returning actors help to anchor the story and draw the audience in, but the expanded width of the story confounds and doesn’t clear up enough loose ends by the film’s unexpectedly sudden ending. It’s an entertaining movie to be sure, but it sorely lacks the punch of the first installment. When Lisbeth returns to kick that hornet’s nest, I hope she kicks it real good…and there had better not be Ewoks inside.