Some years ago I read a review (maybe in the Guardian, or maybe in some mystery-centered blog I was following) that was gushing/ecstatic/over-the-top glowing about a book called The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo that had just come out in the UK. I checked on Amazon; no such book had a page. I figured it was a Swedish novel that wasn’t coming to the US. So I ordered it.

In hardback.

From the UK.

When I read it, I thought, “Darin’s going to kill me if he finds out how much I paid for a book that I absolutely loathe.”

I managed to finish it and put it away, out of sight, out of mind.

At which point The Girl came to the US, and there’s been tons of gushing/ecstatic/over-the-top glowing about it and I’ve been baffled. What is wrong with you people?

When I heard there was a US remake of the Swedish movie coming out, I thought, Nope, not seeing that. But then it was David Fincher directing…and Steve Zaillian writing… and there was nothing else to see last night…

And…I still don’t get it. Actually, it’s even worse than that. I think you people are insane.

The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo is the story of a disgraced journalist (Daniel Craig) who gets a hail-Mary pass from a wealthy industrialist (Christopher Plummer) who will pay him a huge amount of money to use his amazing deductive skills —

(During the scene where Plummer hires Craig, Darin leaned over to me and said, “This is a total wish fulfillment story.” I said, “Oh yeah.”)

— to investigate the murder of a girl on a remote island 40 years ago. He is aided in this quest by the antisocial, yet amazingly brilliant and super-competent Rooney Mara. Because of the Law of Conservation of Movie Stars (“Today’s movie budgets don’t allow you to fill the whole movie with stars, so if there’s an actor you recognize in a small role, you can bet they’re important”), it’s not hard to figure out who the bad guy is. The Law of Conservation also allows you to figure something else out ahead of time, but I’ll leave that to the viewer.

Let me get the good out of the way: the direction, the art direction, the acting, and the dialogue were great. This feels like a European movie, as opposed to most American movies, which feel like they were filmed on a Universal backlot (even if they were filmed on location). Everyone (except Craig) has a Swedish accent (with various degrees). The score by Trent Reznor is great.

I still hated it. There are so many problems with this movie, most of which come from the source material.

The original title of the book in Swedish was Men Who Hate Women, and that’s a more apt title than The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. Everything about this story has to do with violence, particularly sexual violence, toward women. Drew McWeeny at HitFix had a good essay recently about when are we, the Viewers, going to start drawing the line at depictions of rape and sexual violence in movies? Is that a good topic for drama or for crime? Of course. But as McWeeny and others have pointed out, often it’s all we get. And we’re offered sexual violence and that’s supposed to be meaningful in and of itself. Even worse, it’s often so explicitly offered that it’s not violence, it’s pornography: it’s meant to titillate.

There’s a whole bit of backstory, just touched on in the movie (I can’t remember whether it’s dealt with more in the novel or not) about Sweden’s history with the Nazis. Huh, that’s interesting…but never pursued. One of the bad guys was involved with the Swedish Nazi party. Is that part of what he did? We don’t know. Is it coincidence that he was a Nazi and a psychopath? Are we simply supposed to equate Naziism with psychopathy? (If so, congratulations: you’ve just cheapened one of the most complex psychological and political situations we’ve ever had to face on this planet.) The whole reason one whole series of girls dies is because they’re “Jewish” or “immigrants” — a factor never explored, just touched on, as though, y’know, we all know about that.

The murder mystery involves several generations of a wealthy Swedish industrialist’s family. There’s a particularly…unusual…psychological dynamic between one of the mid-40s generation and one of the mid-60s generation that’s an important part of the story, and we’re never given any idea how in the hell this happened. Did one teach the other? Does it run in the family? Is it just that they’re Swedish? Or is living on this island making them crazy? We don’t know. We’re just supposed to take it as given that such a thing is possible and apparently no one else in this family, who all live in close quarters, ever noticed. Um, okay.

Much more up close and personal, however, is The Scene, and then The Aftermath Scene. In case you haven’t heard, one of the main characters gets raped, extremely brutally. (She actually gets raped twice, but people pretty much only refer to the second rape when talking about “the horrible rape scene.”) This happens on-screen in the movie; it goes on for pages, with extreme detail, in the book. She then exacts her revenge, in a similarly brutal way, also explicit in book and movie.

The entire point of these scenes in The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo is that as a result of all of this she gets money. That’s it.

I’ve read a number of places that “Oh, this sets up some stuff in the later books” — I don’t care. In this movie and this book, the end result of two rapes and a revenge assault is that she gets money. She gets access to her own money without any consequences whatsoever. That’s the entire point of this story arc in Dragon Tattoo and it infuriates me.

She isn’t affected emotionally — she not only has other lovers right away, she becomes so emotionally involved with one of them that she undertakes a ridiculous, over-the-top international scheme to right a wrong done to Daniel Craig’s character. She’s not overly clingy or emotionally needy; she isn’t standoffish. No, she’s perfectly well-adjusted sexually and emotionally. Horrifying, painful rape? No problem! Horrible physical and mental assault you perpetrate on someone else? Just do it! You’ll barely remember it happened five minutes later.

She isn’t affected physically. She has no concern about strangers, about her own body, about where she is at any time.

She isn’t affected at all. The same extraordinarily gifted, socially-maladjusted woman we see at the beginning of the movie is exactly the same at the end of the movie.

I haven’t worked in rape counseling…can anybody tell me if this is how it works?

I also got the feeling, from the book and movie and from lots of reactions I’ve read, that we’re supposed to see Salander’s Revenge Assault as “empowering.” That we’re supposed to cheer her on because “he deserved it.” I got a different message from it: if you’re a technical genius who happens to film her own rape and if you happen to have access to lots of computer equipment and if you’re willing to engage in horrible, bloody assault, you are empowered. Otherwise, suck it: you’re a wimp.

The best thing in this movie is that apparently absolutely everyone in Sweden uses Macintosh, so that’s good.

(I totally forgot to mention at least 25% of this movie is people staring at photos or at newspaper clippings or computer screens, and then they react as though they’ve seen something incredibly significant…that’s completely non-obvious to us, the viewer. It’s not deeply interesting dramatically, to say the least.)

The Oscars. Like, who cares, right? Well, clearly we all do, because there are still billions of electrons devoted to talking about them every year. It’s funny how important the Oscars are sometimes and how completely forgotten they are the rest. Like, “OMG Emma Thompson has an Oscar for writing!” or “Jeremy Irons, Oscar-winner.” Of course, Hilary Swank has two Best Actress statues, for all the good they’ve done her. Most people have never heard of her.

Anyhow. This year’s nominations were announced this morning. (By the way, Oscars people: your site completely sucks in look and layout. Look into this, would you?)

Since I haven’t been posting about the movies we’ve seen this year (something I want to change, because after a while I can’t remember what I thought of a movie, and it’s fun to go back and look), I’m going to look at the movies nominated for Best Picture and say a few words about the ones we saw (listed in alphabetical order, since that’s how I got them off of the site).

The Artist

Between The Artist and Midnight In Paris, I’m beginning to wonder if I’m seeing the same cuts of film that everyone else is. People seem to be going batcrap insane over The Artist and I’m like…”Wha’?” Yes, lovely, it’s a silent film made today. It has gorgeous set design and the two main actors, Jean Dujardin and Bérénice Bejo are extremely charming. But…but… The Artist the story of a major silent film actor (Dujardin) who loses everything when sound comes into movies and the Great Depression hits. A young woman who’s been a big fan of his for years becomes a big star but still cares deeply about this man when he becomes a washed-up, self-destructive alcoholic.

That’s right, folks: we have yet another movie where the woman exists to make the man feel better about himself. Bérénice Bejo’s character has no existence other than to make life better for Jean Dujardin. True, unlike most movies today, she did get more speaking lines and she didn’t have to have sex with him in order to prove he was heterosexual. But what we have here is not an improvement over that kind of crap.

Rated: Did. Not. Like.

The Descendants

We liked The Descendants a lot — hey, the cinematography convinced us to give Kauai a try, you know? The Descendants tells the story of a man (George Clooney) whose wife enters an irreversible coma after a boating accident, whereupon he has to get to know his kids again and he gets to know his wife more than he did when she was awake. Among other things, she was having an affair, and George decides he needs to track down her lover.

It’s much like Alexander Payne’s other work (Election, Sideways, About Schmidt) — it’s pretty low-key, and pretty realistic in terms of reactions. What do you do when you’re in the situation? Movies would have us believe that people operate at the peak of their emotions all the time. It’s so low-key, though, that it feels minor. What are we supposed to get out of all of this? I don’t know. A subplot involves Clooney’s extended family owning one of the last large parcels of land in Hawaii and planning to sell it for half a billion dollars. I don’t know about you, but when I start hearing numbers like that my understanding of the problems involved goes way down. Oh bummer, to whom do you sell you land for outrageous sums of money? Several of the questions Alyssa Rosenberg of Think Progress raises in this entry occurred to me too while I watched this movie.

And, honestly, I can’t believe George Clooney is up for Best Actor for this. He’s good — hey, he has us believing that George Clooney’s wife would cheat on him — but I’m kind of stunned at the accolades he’s gotten.

Rated: Good. Not stunning.

Hugo

Hugo is the story of a boy who lives in a Parisian train station and changes the lives of everyone around him. He’s completely alone…yet manages to create a family out of the strangers he meets and change many lives. It’s a very charming film, with fabulous cinematography (funny how you don’t think cinematography really matters, until you see a film that uses it to its utmost) and great performances (too many to list, but I liked just about everyone in this movie). It really does transport you (heh) to another time and place.

It’s also a good family film. We all enjoyed it, on different levels. And man, is that really difficult to do these days.

The downside of Hugo is, as Darin put it after we saw it, that a huge part of the emotional payoff comes from the characters’ love of movies. I can’t quite explain that without recapping the entire film, but trust me on this. And…well…we love movies. I love movies so much I moved Darin to LA so I could go to film school! There’s nothing I’d rather discuss all day long than movies!

And I’m not as invested in film as these characters are.

So I’m left a little cold by the ending, which should instead fill me with emotion and sentimentality and the rest.

(My friend Otto, who loves film as much as I do (more, probably), succinctly summarized the problem with the climax of Hugo with “that end had moments approaching ‘this is the part of the awards show where Scorsese’s acceptance speech talks about the importance of film preservation'” and he is dead on correct about that.)

However: the performances are great, the look is awesome (the rare movie that needs to be seen in 3D), and I did feel completely transported to another world and time.

Rated: Excellent

Midnight in Paris

Okay, this is the movie from last year that completely sets me off.

This is the one that makes me wonder if I’ve seen a bad print of the movie.

Because this movie annoyed the hell out of me and I rant about it at every opportunity.

Screenwriter Owen Wilson is in Paris with fiancée Rachel McAdams and her unbelievably annoying parents. He is wondering whether he should pursue financial success as a screenwriter (check out the hotel room they’re in) or follow his first passion, novel writing. Owen discovers a portal back to 1920s Paris, where he meets the amazingly hot Marion Cotillard and hangs out with the social circle of Ernest Hemingway and F Scott Fitzgerald and the whole Lost Generation crowd. And of course Owen Wilson fits right in with them.

Ken Levine is totally right with his Pet Peeves About The Dialogue — the dialogue in this movie is oh-my-god fake. The tensions and conflicts are horrifying fake and 1980s sitcom-level (not a compliment). The intellectual pretensions (mostly in the scenes with Michael Sheen, but all of it, really) made me grit my teeth — it’s not a remarkably intelligent conversation if I can spout all the same nonsense several lines ahead of you. And the direction? Holy crap. There is one scene where Cotillard and Wilson are walking along the street where it looks she’s spending all of her concentration searching for her mark, finds it, stops, turns, and says her line. It was the most amateurish thing I’ve seen in a movie in a while, and believe me, I’m not blaming the actress for that one.

And all of the women in this movie…that’s right, we have a winner! They exist to prove to the man that he’s worthwhile. Because that’s what we do, apparently.

I can’t even tell you about whether the acting was any good or not. I was so overwhelmed with the rest of the crap in this movie. The only thing I remember liking unreservedly was Adrian Brody as Salvador Dali. Hilarious. Also, about two minutes total on-screen.

Rated: UGH. <STAB> HATE.

Moneyball

We saw this whenever it came out (checking with IMDb…September? Really? That’s usually a dumping ground for movies, but…okay). I still remember it positively, perhaps amazed by the dialogue, which was delightful, and the fact that somehow the screenwriters (among them, the ultimately credited/nominated Steven Zaillian and Aaron Sorkin, but others got in on the action too) managed to make a business book about baseball a pretty good movie about what little teams face when competing against the big guys. How thinking different can actually pay off…well, until the big guys start thinking that way too, and then you’re screwed.

I don’t know whether Brad Pitt can act or not, but he certainly is a movie star: he is completely comfortable on-screen with what he’s doing, and he’s always interesting. I don’t think that means Best Actor though.

Rated: Very good.

As for the other movies on the list:

• Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close: I haven’t heard anything about this movie. I’ve never heard of a major motion picture that so completely doesn’t exist on anyone’s radar. Maybe it’s just been overwhelmed by other movies during December, I don’t know.
• The Help: I’ve heard this book is the best thing since sliced bread and the performances in the movie are great. Nevertheless, it really looks like another “story about black people focusing on the white main character” tale and that’s just tiresome now.
• The Tree of Life: All I’ve heard about this is “Terrence Malick,” which is enough to make me not go. I guess that makes me a Philistine. Well, okay.
• War Horse: If we see this, it would be with the kids, I guess. I don’t know enough about it. I don’t know anyone who’s seen it, either.

John Le Carré caused a big stir with his books about British spies, precisely because his spies didn’t cause a big stir: James Bond was nowhere to be seen. Le Carré’s spies got up in the morning, drank tea, read dispatches, talked, drank some more tea, tried to find assets on the other side who’d give them information, and finished it all off with a honking glass of scotch at the end of the day.

The new movie version of <i>Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy</i> is set in the early 70s, when things were really grim: Britain was on the verge of being declared a Third World country (it was too, people, you can look it up), the Cold War was at its height and seemed like it would never end, and office politics at the headquarters for the British spies, called the Circus, seems more centered around who’s sleeping with whom and who’s got the good expense account instead of, you know, fighting the good fight for freedom and liberty and etc etc.

Several assets on the Soviet side have gotten word out that British Intelligence has a highly placed mole (as, in fact, it really did). George Smiley (Gary Oldman, practically unrecognizable) had been let go by the organization as part of a shake-up and is now brought back in, sub rosa, to find the mole, who is one of Smiley’s contemporaries: four middle-aged men who’ve carved out their piece of the pie.

Both Darin and I had heard about this movie that you have to pay careful attention, because the important stuff will go by without anyone calling it out. Perhaps I have the attention span of a gnat, but I didn’t find this to be true. What is true is that the movie doesn’t hold your hand and it’s not drawn in gigantic day-glo colors, the way most movies are these days. In fact, the main color I remember from this movie is gray. Everything is so deeply, morosely gray. The story doesn’t have tiny details you have to follow, anyhow: it’s not like the solution is some horribly shocking thing you should have been able to put together yourself. This is the story of professional men doing their jobs, and it just so happens that it’s as bureaucratic as it is deadly.

While I enjoyed the change of pace from the usual cinema fare with its loud soundtrack and moronic dialogue, I didn’t feel the rapturous experience a lot of reviewers felt watching this. (Although…getting such a change of pace is so refreshing!) The acting is very good. The best part, for me, was the portrayal of early 70s Britain. The hairstyles, the glasses, the cars, the political tensions… does anyone feel nostalgic about anything from that time?