1. This is one of those weird pan-Western Hollywood productions where it's English and American stars have to put on strange, half-arsed Scandinavian accents because of it's Swedish setting, and even then they drop into their normal voices most of the time. You kind of wish they would just set the film in Alaska so we wouldn't have to put up with this weird pretense.
2. Similar to The Dark Knight, the first half of this film feels a bit like a trailer, frantically cramming fragments of scenes on top of each other, glueing them with overlapping dialogue. Montage upon montage and razor sharp cuts admirably solidify key story points and character motivations while we're rushed along without a moment to breathe; it's nicely done but grows a tad wearing after a while.
3. And of course all this is underpinned by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross' heaving, pulsing soundtrack. It's nice to see the figure behind Nine Inch Nails (one of my favourite bands as a teen) being reborn as a superb film composer. Reznor and Ross' score churns and flutters, moans and throbs, and generally keeps the tension bubbling away throughout with their synths and drum machines (when I say this I mean computer (probably a Mac)).
4. Lastly I think the opening credit sequence needs to be addressed: it's completely berserk and comes out of nowhere! Weird CGI graphics of the films lead characters, along with USB cables which fly out at us, underpinned by an industrial version of Led Zeppelin's 'Immigrant Song'!? The only possible linkage with the film's plot that I can think of, is that it might be some sort of visualisation of Lisbeth Salander's dreams? I'm really not sure what was going on there.
That's all I have to say. It's quite a good film, but not quite as thrilling as I was hoping it to be. Oh yeah, it also tries to sully the purity of Enya's 'Orinoco Flow', which I'm not sure I'm happy about.
And Lisbeth Salander at one point is wearing a t-shirt with 'FUCK YOU, YOU FUCKING FUCK' emblazoned across it, which I think is brilliant.
Later Bureaucrats...
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