The Hunger Games

I'm back, baby! After a few months concentrating on selling out, I'm ready to rejoin the obscure bloggers' ranks once again. That's not to say I'm not going to continue infecting other parts of the 'Net. There's plenty of me to go around, guys. Well, if my BMI is anything to go by.

 The Hunger Games (2012)

Much like the Twilight series before it, it seems that The Hunger Games has tapped into the lucrative young teen market and made a goddamn bundle in the process. That's where the Twi-likenesses end though. On the subject of comparisons, let's get this out of the way. People of the Internet, you are not clever by saying things such as "I liked Hunger Games when it was called Battle Royale derp derp derp" and other anti-intellectualisms. Yeah, there are similarities- no question, but it's not the Americanised rip-off some people have been decrying it as. To my eyes, the film shares DNA with not only Battle Royale, but Lord of the Flies, The Running Man, The Truman Show and I even saw a little bit of First Blood in there (Katniss reminded me of a female Rambo or "Rambette", if you will.). Don't piss on things because they're popular, piss on them because they deserve it. Fact of the matter is, The Hunger Games doesn't deserve it. It is not, however, a frosty glass of Christ's spunk either, as some lesser, better paid critics have been saying. S'good. Isn't that enough?

"This is the time to show them everything. Make sure they remember you."

The Hunger Games is set in a futuristic, dystopian version of the United States called Panem, where the country is split up into an extremely wealthy capital and surrounded by 12 impoverished districts. As punishment for a working-class uprising over 70 years ago, a barbaric, televised gladiatorial battle called The Hunger Games is held each year in which 24 young people or "tributes" (a male and female from each district) are chosen by a lottery and forced to kill each other until only one victor remains. We join District 12's Katniss Everdeen (Jennifer Lawrence), who volunteers to enter the games in place of her younger sister, and follow her journey to the Capitol along with male tribute Peeta Mellark (Josh Hutcherson) as they prepare to fight for their lives. The overall plot is solid. I loved the backstory, the post-apocalyptic setting and the ideas and issues the film tackles. From the opening, there's a palpable sense of dread as we build up to the games themselves. This isn't some lunkhead action where the main character finally has an outlet for their mad brutality skillz (à la Ah-nuld in The Running Man). Whilst not helpless, Katniss is still vulnerable and we are scared for her. Speaking of Katnip Everyteen, Jennifer Lawrence is really impressive as the lead. She plays Katniss with a determined resignation, rather than slipping into ball-busting, female badass clichés. Josh Hutcherson was alright as Peeta, with most of his lines muted in my head due to his jaw being one of the squarest I've ever seen, second only to that guy in Michael Bay's 1996 masterpiece The Rock. Woody Harrelson pops up as a past champion with an understandable drinking problem. Donald Sutherland mumbles a few lines through a white beard, Elizabeth Banks changes costume a lot and Lenny Kravitz successfully pulls off gold eyeliner. Most of the adults are inconsequential. The focus here is on the kids and rightfully so.

The Hunger Games deals with some dark stuff. Children pitted against each other in a battle to the death is a terrifying concept. There's something deeply unsettling about how psyched Panem's 1% are for their annual crueltyfest. The thing that sent shivers down my spine is merely alluded to in general conversation between Katniss and hometown hunk Gale (Liam Hemsworth), where it transpires that if you are starving, you can get food from the government in exchange for another entry into the lottery. Brr. Despite being rabbited about endlessly, I didn't find the violence that shocking. It's pretty strong for a 12A, but Quantum of Solace had the same rating and had the unbelievably grim scene where the CraigHulk stabs a man in the neck before shanking him in the back of the thigh. He then proceeds to lie the man down, all the while checking his pulse and patiently waiting for the poor bastard to bleed out. My point is, hand-wringing parental groups and Daily Mail readers have (unsurprisingly) got it wrong. The film shouldn't be a 15. As a parent, you should just pay extra attention to the "A" bit in the 12A rating. The film sidesteps the gore anyway with liberal use of the Bourne shakycam, which can get distracting. However, at least its use here is justified given the already established fanbase, rather than just a cheap technique to make the film look "edgy" and "dynamic". The deaths are harrowing though, make no mistake. It's just some of them smack of compromise and considering the bleak, grim world we're presented, shying away from kiddie deaths at the last minute seems a bit pointless. I wasn't gunning for decapitations or anything, it's just really noticeable at times. Especially the fight with the psycho knife girl who (invisotext for spoilerphobes) seemingly just ups and dies after being slammed against a wall a few times.

I really liked the whole "playing up for the cameras" angle. Katniss is constantly reminded that it's a TV show and to court the sponsors who can aid her in battle with little gift packages like much-needed medicine. The fake relationship she has with Peeta is well handled and takes a few sideswipes at reality TV while it's at it. There are a few things that didn't make sense to me though. Why is she known as "The Girl on Fire" when Peeta was wearing the same outfit? Secondly, did Cinna just create this new technology of fake fire? Thirdly, what was the point in sucking up to the sponsors when Haymitch was the only one sending her stuff? FUCKING STOP RIGHT THERE. I know what Hunger Games fans are going to say: (adopt a grating nerd voice") "It's explained in the book blah blah blah" /nerdvoice. I don't care. A film adaptation is a tabula rasa as far as I'm concerned. It's the film's job to explain these technicalities if it includes them and it's the film's fault if it doesn't do that well enough. Having the commentators (Stanley Tucci and Toby Jones) explaining the rules of the games is a neat touch, but they are overused and soon become irritating. Also, Peeta's camouflage "skill" is laughable and raises more questions than it should. I felt the ending was rushed too, with some shonky CGI undercutting the drama somewhat. Still, (invisotext) I really liked Cato's last scene. Instead of just a psychopathic hulking brute, it turns out he had some humanity left in him too. Whilst in spoiler territory, Seneca Crane's (Wes Bentley) last scene was darkly brilliant. 

"May the odds be ever in your favour."

I thought The Hunger Games was great. It's dark, exciting and enthralling. It's a good, solid film that mostly sticks to its guns. Bring on the sequels.

Shame

Been a bit busy recently, so haven't updated in a while. I saw the Steve McQueen (not that one) film Shame a few weeks ago and will now let you all know what I thought about it. Since it's predominantly about sex, I'll try to ease up on the childish jokes, but I can't promise anything.

Shame (2012)

I'm going to blow my reviewing wad early by starting off with the admission that I didn't like Shame. It's a grim, angsty bit of filmmaking that feels its really meaningful, but actually comes across as a student film with a much higher budget complete with predictable depressing ending. I realise that calling a film everyone's having a massive intellectual wank over "pretentious" may make me look bad by comparison, but sod it. I'd much rather watch something dumb but fun like The A-Team than this rusty bucket of spunk.

"We're not bad people. We just come from a bad place."

Shame is the story of Brandon (Michael Fassbender) a 30-something man living in New York. Brandon suffers from sexual addiction and is finding it harder and harder (fnarr, fnarr) to keep it from bleeding into his professional and social life. Things change for Brandon when his wayward sister Sissy (Carey Mulligan) comes to stay, forcing Brandon to come to terms with how he's living his life. I like the overall idea of Shame. Off the top of my head, I can't remember many films dealing with sex addiction and this certainly seems like the most realistic portrayal of it. Both Fassbender and Mulligan give really strong performances, although I think Mulligan has been better elsewhere (cough Drive cough). Fassbender's Brandon reminded me of Oldman's George Smiley in Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, where you know despite the cool exterior, there's some serious emotional juice bubbling just beneath the surface. The film is well shot and there are some really interesting flourishes here and there, including one shot where Brandon is frantically binning all his nudie mags and DVDs and we get fast, flickering shots of naked flesh, ending on an arsehole (not a dig at Fass, that's actually what happens). It's like a pornographic version of the Marvel Studios logo and is my new forum avatar on several Christian websites.

I get what Shame is doing. I just don't find it that compelling or interesting. The opening 10 minutes, with Fass strutting naked around his modern, threadbare apartment and eye-fucking the shit out of a girl on the subway reminded me of Patrick Bateman in American Psycho. In fact, the opening 20 minutes could easily be the start of a serial killer film, right down to Brandon's cold, removed way of ghosting through life and seeming alone, even when in a room full of people. The film perks up a bit when Sissy comes to town and inadvertently holds up a mirror to Brandon's life. Is he as damaged and needy as she is? I didn't care. I didn't feel sorry for either of them. I really liked a bit near the end where Brandon seemingly gives up trying to fight his addiction and becomes an unapologetic poonhound, but I found this to be funny, rather than tragic.

There's one scene that outlined Shame for me. It takes place in a swanky bar where Brandon and his boss are watching Sissy perform. She sings an excruciatingly slow version of New York, New York and everyone agrees it was brilliant. Mulligan has a nice voice, but I can't stand those long, drawn-out jazz renditions of popular songs. I know some people solely want to fill their ears with that stuff and consider it a purer, stripped-down form of music, but I need something with a little bit of oomph to it- and it's the same with film. I don't mind character studies or ruminations on the human condition, but don't give me this sort of toss and tell me it's "deep".

"You come in here and you're a weight on me. Do you understand me? You're a burden."

Shame is a study of addiction with delusions of being more significant than it is. It's a long, grim slice of artistic nonsense that forgets to make you care for the characters. If this is your sort of film, fine. You take it away with you and stroke your chin red raw. I'll be over here, in this corner, having fun.

The Artist

So here's Hugo's biggest rival at the Oscars, The Artist. Most of the night will be dedicated to overpaid, undertalented bellends all slapping each other on the back and smiling like they've never slaughtered a sex worker or five in their time. In case you haven't guessed, I don't really like award season. Especially when deserving films like Drive, for instance, are almost completely overlooked in favour of mediocre "racism iz bad" flicks like The Help. The Golden Globes are a joke, the Oscars are a sham, but I quite like the BAFTAs. Anyway- here's a film that actually deserves the praise lauded upon it.

The Artist (2011)

 

Much like Hugo, The Artist's presentation could easily dismissed as a "gimmick". Some of the criticism levelled at this film has been concerning the fact that there's not much depth to the film and the black and white visuals, title cards and swingin' soundtrack are just ways of hiding this fact. These people are obviously great, big swaggering cretins. The Artist is a pastiche of storytelling in the silent era. Most films were simple love stories, because the medium was just starting to find its feet and fuck, it's what people wanted to see. It's the reason romantic comedies are still about to this very day. 

"..."

The Artist tells the story of silent movie star George Valentin (Jean Dujardin) who literally bumps into Peppy Miller (Bérénice Bejo) outside a movie premiere and due to his showing off and propensity for posing accidentally sets her on the path to superstardom. Meanwhile, the movie-making business is changing and people are demanding "talkies" over his more traditional output, a notion which Valentin scoffs at and Miller is more than happy to step up to, filling the megastar-shaped hole left by him. So, as I said in the first paragraph, it's basically a simple love story. Having said that, there are enough caveats and interesting twists and turns to stop the film from being entirely predictable. I thought both Jean Dujardin and Bérénice Bejo were fantastic in their roles. Both have the silent acting styles down to a tee and are take plenty of opportunities to mug and exaggerate facial expressions. Also, James "That'll do, pig" Cromwell and John "brings the ruckus" Goodman make appearances. Oh, and Valentin's dog, who steals every scene he's in.

I really had fun watching The Artist. The novelty of watching a silent film didn't wear off and came across as downright charming. The only downside to this being that you can hear the old biddy three rows back rustling her sodding sweet wrappers with startling clarity. There were times where I forgot I was watching a silent film as I was caught up in the melodrama of it all. It's important to note that The Artist isn't the first film to do the retrospective silent thing, as Mel Brooks did it about 40 years ago with Silent Movie. It could be argued that Brooks did a lot more with the gimmick than The Artist does. However, that's really beside the point.

There's one really talked about scene where Valentin has a nightmare sequence in which sound invades his life for the first time and he finds himself unable to speak. At first I rolled my eyes because I assumed the film was going to pull a Pleasantville with sound instead of colour, and have sound slowly become the norm. Thankfully, it doesn't come to that and the sequence is remarkably well done. The film is also genuinely funny and had me smiling throughout most of the runtime. Well, at the bits that were appropriate, anyway. I found the film to be quite moving too (Fuck you, War Horse) with Valentin's fall from grace really striking a chord with me.

 "..." 

The Artist is really a unique experience. It may be a cynical callback to the infancy of Hollywood, but it really didn't seem like it to me. It's a sharply observed tribute to the silent era which managed to both charm and move me in a way very few films do. Yes, a deep love of cinema or an appreciation for stars like Buster Keaton or Harold Lloyd may help, but it's a classic melodrama that entertained the living hell out of me. Plus, the ending is amazing. Go and see it whilst you still can at the cinema, it's one of the best films to see with an audience (well, unless you live in Liverpool)

Hugo

With the Oscar nominations announced, I was made aware that I hadn't even seen the two frontrunners, Hugo and The Artist. So, I organised a trip to the nearest place with a pulse and a multiplex and remedied the embarrassing situation I found myself in.

Hugo (2011)

 

The Academy are a funny old bunch, aren't they? To me, they seem like a typical elderly man character in a bad sitcom. For instance, they frequently show how out-of-touch they are, overlooking culturally important flicks in favour of schmaltzy toss. Also, they seem to forget things only to remember them much later, such as Scorsese's Oscar for The Departed and Gary Oldman's "oh, fucking finally!" type nomination this year. Coupled with The Artist, a more cynical man than I would point out that both these films are just pandering to the Academy, knowing full-well that the voters fucking love films that boil down to talking about how bloody brilliant films are and how movie-making is, like, really important, yeah? However, I'm not that cynical and am happy to say Hugo and The Artist both won me over with their charm and general rocking of the shit.

"I'd imagine the whole world was one big machine. Machines never come with any extra parts, you know. They always come with the exact amount they need. So I figured, if the entire world was one big machine, I couldn't be an extra part. I had to be here for some reason."

Asa Butterfield plays the titular Hugo, an orphan boy who secretly lives in the walls of a bustling Parisian train station, constantly having to duck and avoid Inspector Gustav (Sacha Baron Cohen) who would like nothing better than to send our grubby hero off to the orphanage. Things change when Hugo meets Isabelle (Chloë Grace Moretz), an adventurous bookworm who is in possession of an unusual key that may unlock the secret to Hugo's prized possession- a broken automaton left by his father. I hate to sound like I've read the official namby-pamby PR blurb for Hugo, but it actually is a magical, fun-filled, family film. I'm sorry, I can't think of anything more fitting than that. It doesn't talk down to its kiddie audience and actually deals with some pretty adult stuff. The performances are all great, with Asa Butterfield doing his wide-eyed best as Hugo. Chloë Moretz aka the foul mouthed Hit-Girl from Kick-Ass, is charming as Isabelle, also nailing the British accent that everyone in 1930s Paris seems to have. Sir Ben Kingsley is predictably good, but the surprise for me was Sacha Baron Cohen. After initially dismissing his character as childish slapstick giggle fodder, I was taken aback at how much I warmed to his friendlier take on the Child Catcher. 

Hugo is a love letter to cinema. It's a tribute to the early innovators of the art and in particular, the work of Georges Méliès. This is done tastefully and isn't the frantic, uncoordinated suckjob I expected all of this "love of cinema" stuff to be. I got the feeling Scorsese has genuine admiration for these pioneers and it permeates the film. However, as enthralling as I found all of this to be, the thought occurred that all of  this may be a bit too boring for some kids. There are no "comedy" CGI creatures that run into walls or fart, for instance. There's also a nightmare sequence where Hugo turns into the metal faced automaton which may disturb the wussier kids in the audience. Still though, what the hell do I know? Haven't been a kid for a long time and don't plan on becoming a parent any time soon.

So, the 3D. The fucking 3D. I hate to say it, but it was good. Before I start telling you about how well Scorsese handled the technology and the like, I want to make it clear. Hugo has still not sold me on 3D. It's still an overpriced gimmick that I cannot wait to see the back of. Having said that, this is the best 3D integration I've seen. The opening shot is of a snowy Paris, with snowflakes falling before your eyes and the film continues impressing from there. That's not to say it's in your face the entire time. Like the best 3D, you sort of forget you're watching one until the next thing gets all up in your grill. Whilst added dimensionality usually adds something between "fuck" and "all", I get the feeling Hugo might not be quite as much fun without all the whizz-bang 3D when it comes to DVD. Time will tell on that one.

"If you've ever wondered where your dreams come from, you look around. This is where they're made."

I left Hugo with a big smile on my face. It's an immensely enjoyable family film that manages to be a fun kiddie flick and a film fan's wet dream at the same time. It's genuinely affecting at points too, which has made me think I was too soft on War Horse and all its forced sentimentality. I hope Hugo is the start of a smarter breed of kids films and that studios realise that 3D can be used to great effect when a) you have a great director in charge or b) when it suits the mood of the film. I realise I may as well wish for fucking wings, considering Ice Age 4 and Madagascar 3 are farting into your local multiplex soon, but I can dream, can't I?

Haywire

In true Popcorn Bucket fashion, the film world is buzzing about awards and y'know- films that actually matter and I toddled off to see an action film with lots of punching, kicking and the occasional sexy chokehold.

Haywire (2012) 

You can just never predict what Steven Soderbergh is going to do next. From gritty biopics like the Che films to the crowd-pleasing frippery of the Ocean's trilogy, the guy chops and changes track more often than a particularly indecisive iPod Shuffle. So, fresh from last year's disease epic Contagion, Soderbergh has chosen to helm an action film made to showcase MMA star Gina Carano's arse-kicking abilities and backing her up with an impressive cast list of famous faces. Like him or not, you can't criticise the man for being a one trick pony.

"You shouldn't think of her as being a woman. That would be your first mistake."

Haywire centres on Mallory Kane (Gina Carano, best described as a lantern-jawed, cage-fighting version of Rebecca Black), a black ops agent who is betrayed by her organisation. Kane then goes rogue in order to track down the people responsible. That is really about it. I'll forgive you for yawning. The plot is as uninspired as they come.It's something we've seen a hundred times before and done better elsewhere. I get the feeling that the plot isn't the point of the film however. This is basically a B movie (well, that specific kind of recent Hollywood B movie that imitates everything but the tiny budget) and as such, some schlock is to be expected. It's almost a parody of the genre, but doesn't quite tip the balance. I was really impressed with Gina Carano though. Considering this is her first film, she's great. Granted, she's playing a nigh-on emotionless unstoppable badass, but she definitely has a screen presence. As I said above, the supporting cast is terrific, especially Michael Fassbender and Ewan McGregor. Also human gerund Channing Tatum is here, lending his muscular blandness and strangely smooth face to proceedings. 

Sod the plot though, action is why (disappointingly few) people are sitting down to watch this. I must say, the action's great. Stevey Sodas strips current Hollywood fight conventions back down to the wire. There is no shaky-cam bullshit, no up-tempo music and no wire-fu. All you hear during the brutal fights are grunts and dull thuds. Each hit sounds like a heftily swung baseball bat hitting a sack of wet steaks. It's refreshing to actually see the impressive choreography rather than try and make it out from frenetic editing and spastic camerawork. Carano's fight with Fassbender in a Dublin hotel room is especially well done. There's also a rooftop chase, which aims for realism, rather than hyper-excitement. The film can be quite minimalist at times, which can be very effective. There's a scene where Mallory is walking down a Dublin street, expecting danger to come from any angle. The camera tracks her for a good 3/4 minutes, just walking on the pavement, with all the sounds of city life around her. This ain't your typical action affair.

Whilst the plot can be forgiven to an extent, the rest of the film didn't quite hang together for me. I really wanted to love this film, but there were too many things getting in the way. For one, I found the score to be truly obnoxious, with David Holmes, the man behind the slick Oceans' soundtracks, basically doing the same jazzy, cool schtick with added annoying blaring brass bits. It's repetitive and doesn't sit well with the movie at all. The film can really drag too, with characters endlessly spouting expository dialogue to pad out the weak-as-fuck plot.

"You can tell me right now why you sold me out- or you can tell me in ten minutes when I have my hands around your throat"

In Mallory Kane, we finally have a proper female equal to Jason Bourne. Screw Angelina Jolie's Salt or even Saoirse Ronan's Hanna, Kane is the real deal. Haywire is a mixed bag. As an audition tape for Carano's action chops, it works fantastically well. As a film, it falters, despite a stylish presentation and bloody decent fighting. Hopefully Carano will get the vehicle she's crying out for soon.

War Horse

Yup, a review of a current film you won't struggle to find showings of. This means you can consider this consumer advice if you wanted to. I could actually save you money. Well, unless I end up giving this film a rather schizophrenic review and award it an average three stars or summat.

War Horse (2012)

If the insane amount of marketing is to be believed, Spielberg is "back and better than ever" and War Horse promises to jerk more tears than a (insert thing that jerks a lot of tears in a semi-comedic situation). The glowing reviews also seemed to confirm that yes, this is a film that harkens back to the good ol' days of moviemaking and moved captive audiences to floods of tears. Maybe my X79 Emotion Simulator Chip is loose, but I sat down and two and a half hours later I stood up again, no more moved than when I went in. I was baffled to see people, their faces shining with fresh sad juice walking past me, pulling those weird faces that people do when they're embarrassed about crying and trying to laugh it off by exaggerating things like dabbing their eyes. Once again, the emotional disconnect between the general public and myself grows ever deeper. 

"Gentlemen, it is an honour to ride beside you. Make the Kaiser rue the day he crossed swords with us. Let every man do himself, his King, his country, and his fallen comrades proud. Be brave."

Set in Dartmoor in 1914, War Horse is the story of a bond between farmer's boy Albert Narracott (Jeremy Irvine) and Joey the horse. After his drunken father (Peter Mullan) sells the horse to the British Army to pay  the rent on his struggling farm, the heartbroken Albert vows to find Joey again, no matter what. The story is that horse story i.e. a child/teenager forms an unlikely bond with an unruly horse and the pair soon reach a mutual understanding. Which is fine, I guess. A bit girly though. Good thing we have a socking great war in the middle though, for us barrel-chested lads. What sets War Horse apart from other "horsey" films is that we see the different perspectives of war through Joey's ever-changing owners. For instance, in one scene we have a grandfather and granddaughter taking care of the horse and in another we see Joey being put to work as a literal war horse, lugging a massive cannon up a muddy hill for Ze Germans. The film is almost episodic and plays like a parallel universe Tarantino film, where characters exchange loving looks and sentimentality instead of f-words and bullets. Obviously the acting is up to scratch- newcomer Jeremy Irvine impressed the fuck out of me, whereas seasoned actors like Peter Mullan, Emily Watson and David Thewlis all gave an air of class to proceedings. 

Before I start working the ribs, let me just say, I didn't hate War Horse. It's impressive filmmaking. The fine acting on display, the golden cinematography and the unapologetically melodramatic John Williams score all add up to a fantastically well made film. There are elements I loved, it's just the plot didn't really work for me. Having said that, there's a sequence in No Man's Land which was brilliant and moving, without being mawkish. I also love that War Horse has a response to Rise of the Planet of the Apes' "Gorilla Vs. Helicopter" awesomeness. New for 2012, it's "Horse Vs. Tank"! The war sequences are effective and surprisingly harrowing considering we never see any bloodshed on screen. I also liked the fact that the film keeps the Devon setting, despite the downside that everyone in the first half hour talks like Samwise fucking Gamgee.

I'm not made of stone. I have cried at films before and I'm only semi-ashamed to say that the last film I remember crying at was Wall-E. My final line in the first paragraph about "the emotional disconnect" between Joe Public and I may read like a smug bellend typing down unjustified reason #7002 on why he thinks he's better than everyone else. I assure you, this is not the case. There's nothing better than having a collective audience response in a film, be it laughing at the same bits or even applauding at the end. I like feeling like part of a group. Thing is, War Horse was too obvious to illicit tears from me, if that makes sense. There were no surprise emotional gut-punches or sudden tragic turns. Yeah, the horse goes through some hardship, but it didn't make me bawl like a bitch. I empathised, sure, but that's where it stopped.

 "I could love you no less, but I could hate you more."

War Horse is good, but I felt it took too long to tell a simple, rather hackneyed story. Despite doing a good job giving Joey a personality, I just wasn't invested enough to have a lump in my throat at any point. It's a masterclass in the technical side of making films, it just left me feeling underwhelmed after reports of people sobbing out their spleens in preview screenings. I was going to make a joke about much rather seeing a film called War Whores, but they effectively did that and it wasn't much fun either.

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

Back with my first post of 2012. May as well start the year as I mean to go on, which means I have a pile of films to talk about like anyone wants to hear another nerd's justification for why he doesn't go out and meet someone nice.

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (2011)

2012 has an abundance of films I'd put off my own grandmother's funeral to see. 2011 didn't. There were films that interested me, but nothing that made me leap off my seat and start scratching at the door like a dog wanting to go walkies. The only film that came close was David Fincher's The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. Why? Well, I liked the Swedish original, my perpetual man-crush Daniel Craig stars and it's directed by David Fincher, a man who could direct a film called Ben Browne Loves Scrotum and I would still be clamouring for a ticket on opening day.

"You will be investigating thieves, misers, bullies, the most detestable collection of people you will ever meet – my family."

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo is based on the first novel in the best-selling Millennium trilogy (original title Män som hatar kvinnor- i.e. Men Who Hate Women) by Steig Larsson. In it, we follow disgraced journalist Mikael Blomkvist (Daniel Craig) as he is drafted in by retired industrialist Henrik Vanger (Christopher Plummer) to solve a 40 year old case of the murder of his great-niece. Blomkvist soon finds himself way over his head and hires a research assistant in the form of prickly, motorbiking, Goth, master hacker Lisbeth Salander (Rooney Mara) to help with the case. If you haven't read or seen this story before, there are enough twists and turns on the standard murder mystery formula to keep you guessing. The main strength of the film is the crime solving double act of Blomkvist and Salander, a chalk and cheese pairing that simply works. Daniel Craig is Daniel Craig, but you get the feeling he was hired due to his starpower and the fact that he's the current Bond- a point I'll come back to in a bit. Rooney Mara is undoubtedly the talking point in this film. She manages to nail both the damaged vulnerability and simmering rage elements that make the character work. This is a star-making turn for her and I look forward to seeing her in plenty of films in the near future. Of the supporting cast, Christopher Plummer gives a surprising performance as the frail Henrik Vanger and Stellan Skarsgård uses his big, friendly face to his advantage as Martin Vanger.

You may be asking what the point is in remaking a film that's barely three years old and was perfectly fine to begin with. It's a good point, but there's more to this than simply remaking it to be all American-like. For starters, there's a big debate on whether this film is a remake at all, although some of the shots and performances certainly indicate the production team have at least seen the 2009 film. If you were planning on avoiding this one on the principle that it's an American retelling of a successful foreign film (like The Grudge or The Ring) I implore you not to. A lot of effort has been made to make it true to the original story. The only real difference is that everyone speaks English and the film has bigger name actors. The Swedish locales and everything that made the first one a breath of fresh air (thank Christ this wasn't reworked to be set in Los Angeles or New York) are kept. It's important to remember the original films were made for TV and as such could benefit from a cinematic upgrade, especially handled by David Fincher.

I'm a bit of a meathead when it comes whats I likes. I found 2009's Dragon Tattoo, starring the traffic-stoppingly beautiful Noomi Rapace, to be a very entertaining, if tough, watch. I'm not sure whether it was the sheer number of characters mentioned (the Vanger family and their relationships to each other are central to the plot) or what, but I wasn't completely taken in by it. Fincher's version is more streamlined that the 2009 one, with Steven Zaillian's screenplay chopping and changing certain characters to make the film flow better. I'm not sure whether this is a good thing or not, although I understood the intricacies of the plot more in this 'un. The film is still very similar to the 2009 one but with a different feeling to it. It's certainly better shot and made. There's even a trippy Bond-like title sequence (which you can see here), which whilst awesome, is slightly at odds with the quiet menace of the rest of the film. By the way, if the makers of that don't get the call to do the Skyfall opening titles, I will be shocked.

Actually, talking of Bond, I feel we are meant to take Craig's 007 persona into account in his role as Blomkvist in one way, but disregard it in another. The character of Blomkvist is a womaniser, something that's not really explored in the Fincher film, but we take it as read, because, hey- the dude's James Bond. On the other hand, Blomkvist isn't meant to be accustomed to the danger he finds himself in and is, in a way, the male damsel (mansel?) in distress, which is obviously very un-Bondlike. I have no problem separating characters from actors, it's just that Craig's Blomkvist is a bit of a blank slate, which makes it easy to project onto. Sure, lots of things happen to him, but I'm not sure I could write a quick paragraph outlining his character. I could write a whole sodding book about Mara's Salander though. Whilst I think both Mara and Rapace play the role well, I think Mara has the slight edge. Rapace played her as someone you just wouldn't mess with, whereas Mara's vulnerability is a bit more apparent, which makes it easier to understand why people try and take advantage of her.

"Rape, torture, fire, animals, religion. Am I missing anything?"

Most of the good in the film is also the good in the 2009 version. There's some genuinely disturbing scenes, a fantastic retribution scene which is so unpleasant, yet air-punchingly cathartic it'll be etched on your brain like a sloppily done tattoo. As with previous incarnations, when the mystery starts unravelling, it's all bloody compelling. Still, if you've yet to experience the Millennium trilogy in any of its forms, now's the time. I've got big hopes for the already announced sequel. It's not the most necessary remake/reinterpretation/whatever, but I enjoyed it for what it was- a populist, pulp murder-mystery made by a team of talented filmmakers at the top of their game. Which version is better? I'm not going to get into that argument now, but each have their merits. Recommended.