Fridae

Despite its billing as social welfare paradise and economic powerhouse, native literature is fixated by the notion that there’s something rotten in Scandinavia. Almost 20 years ago, Peter Høeg fantasised about the dark underbelly of Denmark in Smilla’s Sense of Snow and Borderliners. This decade, Stieg Larsson continues the tradition with his Millennium trilogy of murder mysteries, exposing the corruption and brutality in the heart of Sweden’s business and political elite.

The film starts off innocuously enough: Bloomqvist, an investigative journalist, is hired by a depressed industrialist to investigate the mysterious disappearance of his niece some 40 years ago. It’s murder most foul. The suspects? Everyone in his extended family, because they’re all nasty people. Some were even card-carrying Nazis. Thankfully, they all live on a private estate on an island near the mainland, so it’s a matter of playing Cluedo or Agatha Christie.

What’s far more interesting is the real hero of the film, a bisexual punk hacker by the name of Lisbeth who eventually teams up with Bloomqvist. They don’t actually meet each other till a third of the film is gone, but that first act belongs to Noomi Rapace, who portrays a social misfit whose personal struggles shine a light on the rotting corpse of seemingly respectable Swedish society, a light that reflects on the main murder mystery.

As this is a murder mystery, this is as far as I’ll go to describe the plot. What’s brilliant about the film is its detailed creation of a society gone wrong though its at times visceral scenes. As a murder mystery, I like the fact that the puzzle unfolds and takes new twists in each act – making it a welcome challenge for mystery fans.

Perhaps its greatest achievement is the characterisation and casting of the odd couple of Bloomqvist and Lisbeth. The film presents an intelligent and courageous male lead who is not macho or handsome, and a female lead who is attractive and strong, but not sultry. Both fight the good fight, but never do triumph over all the obstacles and insults heaped upon them. Unlike standard issue action heroes, they triumph in their own way over those that matter.

Superbly written, The girl with the dragon tattoo is only the first of a trilogy of films. Where it succeeds is in introducing two protagonists whom we’d really like to see more of, and places them in a society where they get to kick some corrupt ass.