I don't know why Lisbeth is the magnet for so much male rage. Nor why Larsson and director Niels Arden Oplev linger on the sight of Lisbeth being hideously raped — and later punishing her tormentor with even more sadistic acts of violence. At least weather-beaten investigative journalist Mikael Blomkvist (Michael Nyqvist) treats Lisbeth nicely. Together they work to expose the evil in one rich, rotten family. (The Nazi skeletons in their closet reflect a particular interest of the author, who, until his death in 2004 at age 50, crusaded against right-wing extremism in Sweden.)
The film makes excellent use of the cold Scandinavian landscape to emphasize the story's gloomy loneliness. And Rapace and Nyqvist have compelling chemistry. The two stars have shot the next two movies in Larsson's trilogy — and I look forward to them with a combination of squeamish fear of what tortures I'll see and queasy excitement about how Lisbeth Salander will handle the next skeevy guy.
