‘Hornet’s Nest,’ the final film in the Millennium Trilogy, is a talky, gloomy affair
ARNOLD WAYNE JONES | Life+Style Editor email@example.com
If you haven’t read one of Stieg Larsson’s books in the Millennium Trilogy, centered on a bisexual, semi-autistic, tattooed Swedish computer hacker named Lisbeth Salander (Noomi Rapace), you’ve missed the literary event of the decade. Since they emerged, Larsson’s books have sold better worldwide than John Grisham and Stephen King.
If you haven’t seen one of the film versions, however, you’re not so bad off. So far, the three films — The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, The Girl Who Played with Fire and the latest, The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest — have been, at best, moderately entertaining disappointments. All are Swedish-made (American versions start coming out next year), and while the stories don’t require a Hollywood gloss to be interesting, they could use some punching up as movies.
Director Daniel Alfredson has created a style that’s gloomy but without a sense of moodiness. From the photography to the pacing of the courtroom scenes to the unsatisfying final moments, The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest more closely resembles an installment in a rambling made-for-TV miniseries than a punchy feature film. Where’s the crescendo, the heart-racing action, the “big reveal?” Even a thinking man’s thriller can try to get the blood boiling. (Rapace, who had a steamy lesbian sex scene in Played with Fire, doesn’t have any sex this time — a definite hole in the structure.)
Hornet’s Nest really doesn’t stand alone, at least not as well as the other two. It’s a direct sequel to the second film, with Lisbeth recovering from injuries after she fought off her father, a Russian gangster who survived her attack. If any of that confuses you, it’s not much clearer watching it onscreen.
All of Larsson’s books, and the movies from them, are concerned with social justice as much as crackling plots. And while set in Sweden, many of those issues feel influenced by American politics (although cultural differences, such as the legal system, make the story much harder to identify with): Creepy older men abound, all corrupt, conspiratorial doctors, policemen, lawyers, cops or politicians. It’s easy to tell the good buys from the bad guys — the only good guy is Mikael Blomkvist (Michael Nyqvist), a crusading journalist out to uncover all the baddies targeting Lisbeth.
Nyqvist makes for an implacable, slightly dull leading man. When the first real action of the film comes 90 minutes in, his cred as an action hero starts to emerge, but it’s a little too late.
Almost more intriguing is Christer, the gay co-owner of the magazine Millennium, who is upstaged by Blomkvist even though he craves some action.
I know how he feels.
This article appeared in the Dallas Voice print edition October 29, 2010