by Joe Hammerschmidt
I was a far more restrained moviegoer at the end of 2011, only just turned 18, a high school senior was not as open-minded with what was worth paying for on the big screen. Looking back, I do wonder why the hell I paid to see Rise of the Guardians twice, when that money could’ve been better used toward the latest Mission Impossible, or if I were in a weirder mood, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. David Fincher’s American studio-backed adaptation of a famous Swedish film inspired by one of their most celebrated book series. The overly slow detective thriller that made an Oscar nominee out of Rooney Mara, and gave Daniel Craig a welcome opportunity to slow down, has finally birthed a sequel some may consider overdue, though I see it solely as an unnecessary waste of time. Waiting four years than may’ve been needed to gestate this sequel onto multiplexes did not help its case one iota, nor did the brave-yet-idiotic choice of jumping ahead to the fourth book, the first following original author Steig Larsson’s passing, titled The Girl in the Spider’s Web. Those words in that connected string should’ve sent shivers down my spine when they first appeared on screen. What I got was merely a figurative head shake.
Literally, from the first scene, we’re essentially witnessing the same pattern Fincher had established in his time with the tattoo lady. The dramatic structure thrust upon us in a breakneck-paced prologue, a bombastic, Bond-esque title sequence, and then a moment to reintroduce the painfully badass Lisbeth Salander (Claire Foy), a deliberate antihero trying to stay incognito while making quick cash off of course correcting petty criminals. Her on/off romantic partner, a former detective, now struggling magazine writer Mikael Blomqvist (here played by Sverrir Gudnason) can’t stop thinking about his muse, his elusive white whale of a possible story. Their shared minds are forced to work together once more to uncover the secrets of a former NSA operative hiding in Stockholm. Frans Balder (Stephen Merchant), developer of a dangerous software program under the government’s authority, is seeking Lisbeth’s tech-hacking skills to destroy the remaining code of the program after the preemptive warning of a nuclear strike looms close, along with ensuring asylum for his gifted son August (Christopher Convery). And all this as Balder’s former employers intend to track the team down, using leashed agent Needham (Lakeith Stanfield) to finish the job. Oh, and if that weren’t enough, there just happens to be the haunting presence of Lisbeth’s estranged sister Camilla (Sylvia Hoeks), who constantly clouds judgment, as well as control the heavily dire scenario.
Director/co-writer Fede Alvarez, who had made a triumphant splash twice before with audiences and Sony execs (re: Don’t Breathe and 2013’s Evil Dead reboot), is trying a little too hard to pull out a third winner out of a weak script so heavily reliant on a generic spy thriller template, muddied by rewrites. One wonders whether Jay Basu’s (Monsters: Dark Continent) cheesier contributions or whether Steven Knight’s (Women Walks Ahead) eye for a delicate criminal tale would’ve made for a sufficient single person draft. Alvarez’s directorial vision, and whatever words and actions he had lined up for such a loose adaptation, rather eschews its likely connectivity to the novel (something I personally could never vouch for), keeping the key characters in name only, transplanted into territory unknown, and forced to make action movie moves that, for these characters, seize from copycatting derivation.
And that is an absolute shame for Miss Foy, who has had a hell of a year, between Unsane, First Man, and another season of Netflix’s The Crown, and who commits to a mindful parade of tonal badassery here. It’s simply not enough to save the film, though. And she really does give her all here, as a shorthaired, fiery, on-the-run do-gooder with an annoying welcomed persistence and a warm heart when it comes to protecting a soul that deserves to live. I’d still say to save the money, but if Janet Armstrong was Foy at her most subtle, her Lisbeth Salander will please fans eager for her glorified leading action hero audition. Just keep in mind that it is simply not the same character Mara, or even Noomi Rapace in the Swedish originals, made legendary.
That regrettably goes for Gudnason, assuming the part held prior by Craig, and by Michael Nyqvist before. Our Blomqvist in Spider’s Web has devolved from top-notch detective/investigative journalist to a freelancing writer looking to make up for lost time, with both career and a relationship with the daring hacker. Gudnason regrettably cannot commit to perpetuating the character’s flaws, taking them on a flat plane and offering so little by way of chemistry with Foy. Dragon Tattoo presented the pair in a forbidden relationship of sorts, fueling their collective motives. Here, they only assist to protect the kid in the third act, lacking romantic tension but keeping a straightforward, overly simple business-only attitude until the job is complete. In the end, plenty a missed opportunity, which could’ve made the more action-heavy moments tolerable, if Salander and Nyqvist were in it together.
Further complicating this unoriginal mess are the added subplots with the promise of a unique interconnection, but for convenience’s sake, they rather fizzle out, much to the waste of an impressive supporting cast. Merchant, in particular, with his awkward nerd sensibilities bleeding over what ought to’ve been something more consequential. Hoeks delivers boldly, yet in equally tepid increments, only appearing convenient to the viewer within the third act as a dangerous foil for Lisbeth. Yet Stanfield, who proved one hell of a leading man in Sorry to Bother You, easily slides into his overly persistent NSA agent character, maturing dramatically between major roles. That in itself was enough to get me smiling in approval before the final frame.
Regardless of what else it can get right, be it Tatiana S. Reigel’s (I, Tonya) skillful splicing, or Eve Stewart’s (A Cure For Wellness) daring to escape beyond a typical British film in terms of design aesthetics, I just knew before we were well and done that Alvarez made the unwarranted decision to punt the ball instead of playing for a lengthier goal. The Girl in the Spider’s Web regrettably doesn’t run all that far, and no one involved appeared all that motivated to try. It lacks in passion, focus, and any resemblance of adrenaline-kicking fun, a statement that appears beyond justified when every moment of badassery is seen as dried out and hollow. I knew it wouldn’t carry the same spark Fincher had insisted upon seven years prior, but I hadn’t anticipated walking away with such a sour taste in my mouth. For every ounce of goodwill Foy and Stanfield muster, it’s still not worth spending any money on in a theater; wait for a bargain Vudu rental or its eventual Starz debut in a few months, where it may be better appreciated. (D+)
The Girl in the Spider’s Web opens in most area theaters this weekend; rated R for brutal violent content including rape and torture, strong sexuality, graphic nudity, and language; 115 minutes.
