Zombies Have Fallen

★★
“Cheap at half the price.”

It’s not often that a film cost less to make, than the television set on which I watched it. But it appears this was the case here, with the budget reportedly coming in at five hundred pounds. No, there’s not a “thousand” missing from that. £500. What you get is probably not too far from what you would expect for that – some of the aerial photography and locations do appear to represent good value for money. Budget isn’t the real issue here though. This British film’s main problem is the drastic shift in story for the final third, when it suddenly morphs, for no reason, from a SF/thriller, into a full-on zombie apocalypse which the makers have neither the budget nor the talent to depict.

The heroine is Kyra (Parkinson), who was captured while a toddler by Raven Health, who are intent on developing and exploiting her latent psychic abilities. Probably close to 20 years later, she is broken out of their facility with the help of an activist bounty-hunter, who sends her into the care of one of his proteges, John Northwood (Heath Hampson). But the company head, Raven (Richardson) won’t let his asset escape easily, and dispatches a hunter of his own, Max (Gardner), to bring Kyra back. After about an hour of the chase, Kyra shows up at a wedding just over the Scottish border in Gretna Green and turns the entire congregation into zombies with her talents. 

What? Yeah, it was as abrupt as that, and the remainder of the film is your typical zombie bashing action. I do have to award a bonus half-star for the semi-automatic bagpipes, which double as a flamethrower. Laughed like a drain at that, and it’s the kind of dumb invention at which low-budget films can excel [see the early works of Peter Jackson for good examples] Unfortunately, the zombie effects and actors are awful; while the depiction of Kyra’s telekinetic powers is not exactly top-shelf, it’s somewhat hidden by the editing. If the randomly selected locals, pretending to be undead (or bad mimes, it’s hard to tell), had been also better concealed – such as behind a mountain – we’d all have been better off.

I substantially preferred the earlier sections. Parkinson is not unsympathetic, as the heroine struggling to come to terms with her powers (though if she has been kept locked up all the time, how did she apparently learn how to drive?), and Hampson comes over like a low-rent version of Liam Neeson. If the film had kept down that route, it would likely still not have been “great”, by any reasonable standard, but could certainly have been adequate. Instead, we’ve got something which looks almost as if it was slapped together from two entirely different films. Any redeeming qualities are largely trapped behind a severely questionable title (really, if you’re going to ape another movie, you can pick a far better one than London Has Fallen) and even more dubious cover artwork.

Dir: Sam Hampson
Star: Tansy Parkinson, Heath Hampson, Tony Gardner, Ken Richardson

Code Name: Griffin, by Morgan Hannah MacDonald

Literary rating: ★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆☆

A painfully clunky mix of spy and crime thrillers, this really needs to decide which it wants to be. Alexandria Kingston – code name Griffin, in case you hadn’t guessed – was an abused child, with the good fortune to be rescued and brought up by Margaret Murphy, the head of Irish organized crime in Boston. Though to avoid Alex being targeted for leverage, she was never acknowledged to be part of the family. As an adult, Alex joined the CIA and became a top field agent, jet-setting over the globe on demand. But when her foster mother suffers a stroke, she returns to Boston to find herself in the middle of a war for control of the turf. The rival Killeen clan, sensing an opportunity, pounce. It’s up to Alex and her brothers to defend the family – and then take the battle to the Killeens.

It’s all utterly implausible. Apparently, the CIA don’t bother doing any kind of background check on their employees, and have no problem recruiting and giving security clearance to people with close ties to organized crime. Alex, meanwhile, wobbles uncertainly between remarkable proficiency and incompetence, as necessary to the plot. She can reel in a member of the Killeen family by simply ordering a whisky, yet this top-notch spy inexplicably can’t form sentences when faced with her former childhood sweetheart. I admit her latter burbling is actually kinda endearing, but c’mon: have some consistency in your lead character. And, of course, the Murphys are an almost saintly crime family. By which I mean, they still do prostitution and human trafficking, they just do them the right way. Yeah. About that…

This still might have made for an interesting detour in an established series, if we were already fully convinced of her talents as a CIA operative, with an unrevealed past. Instead, we get barely a handful of pages at the beginning to establish her credentials, with no real context: she exists in a vacuum. There’s also a fondness for the kind of florid consumerist prose I thought had gone out of style with Bret Easton Ellis culminating in this remarkably superfluous description of Alex’s perfume: “The sensuous bottom notes of Sri Lankan sandalwood and Indonesian patchouli were mixed with high notes of Bulgarian rose and citrus to add a feminine touch that was irresistible to the opposite sex.” I swear, I literally rolled my eyes at “high notes of Bulgarian rose”.

I can’t knock the action too much. There is a steady stream of set-pieces throughout the book, and MacDonald does describe these with a clear eye, and no shortage of savagery. [You wonder what, exactly, Boston law enforcement are doing while all this is going on, since Alex does not mess around, and the pile of bodies left in her wake is considerable. It just needs to be in the service of a much better constructed plot.

Author: Morgan Hannah MacDonald
Publisher: Amazon Digital Services, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 2 in the Griffin series.

Sólo quiero caminar

★★
“Oceano’s quatro”

We watched this Spanish film, by coincidence, on the same night as Ocean’s 8, and the Hispanic entry came off as a poor imitation, even though it was made a decade earlier. A four-woman gang’s attempt to steal from Russian mobsters in Spain falls short, though only a single member of the crew is arrested. One of those who escape, Ana, marries Mexican drug-lord Felix (Yazpik), only to discover over the ensuing months, he’s an utterly abusive bastard. After she is pushed out of a car at high-speed, ending up in hospital, the other three, including her sister Aurora (Gil), the one who was caught, decided to take revenge on Felix. The plan is to start by stealing first his data then move on to his money, the loss of which will cause his new Korean partners to kill him. However, his right-hand man, Gabriel (Luna), begins to suspect the women – yet his qualms about Felix’s increasingly brutal ways help lead to increasingly split loyalties.

This isn’t as good as the above synopsis – or the German DVD sleeve on the right! – might make it sound. Instead, it’s a two hour-plus mess, with far too many scenes serving purposes that are either poorly explained or entirely non-existent. Aurora’s time in prison, for example, is virtually irrelevant, except for another scene showing what bastards men are [she is eventually released thanks to the provision of sexual favours to a corrupt judge; one of the themes here seems to be that men are degenerate sleazeballs]. And when the heist goes into motion, there’s absolutely no sense of structure, which would allow the audience to follow along. Why is that tunnel being dug? Does anyone know what’s going on? And then there are the “Koreans”, who are very clearly speaking Chinese. Not sure if this was casual racism, or just extremely sloppy film-making.

Despite the above critical evisceration, it’s not entirely without merit. There’s something of a Quentin Tarantino or Martin Scorsese feel to this, not least in the conspicuous use of music to punctuate proceedings. That includes both usual Hispanic entries like Los Lobos, to entirely unexpected content, such as Patti Smith’s cover of the Rolling Stones’ Gimme Shelter. Those inspirations are also reflected in Yanes’s unstinting eye for violence. The scene where Felix takes a hammer to the hands of a victim is nasty – yet necessary, bringing home beyond any shadow of doubt how evil he is. When things are in motion, Yanes seems to have a decent handle on how to shoot and edit things, and I liked most of the performances here as well, from a fairly well-known cast. It’s just a shame the script seems to consist of pages torn from a better movie, thrown up into the air and placed in random order. The struggle simply to follow what was happening, entirely sucked the life out of my initial enthusiasm for this.

Dir: Agustín Díaz Yanes
Star: Victoria Abril, Ariadna Gil, José María Yazpik, Diego Luna
a.k.a. Just Walking or Walking Vengeance

Locked Up

★★★½
“Trash of the highest order.”

Do not mistake the above rating for suggesting that this is a “good” movie. By most normal standards, it would hardly qualify. But what we have is a throwback to the glory days of exploitation, in particular Filipino women-in-prison flicks like The Big Doll House or Black Mama, White Mama. Here, schoolgirl Mallory (McCart) is sentenced to two years in Thailand juvenile detention after whacking a rich bitch classmate bully upside the head with a pipe (below). At first, the place seems almost like a holiday camp. Then, her guardian leaves, and Mall is taken out the back to the real facility, a cesspool of degradation and brutality, where the inmates are exploited in ways both sexual and violent. 

All the tropes of the genre are there. A sadistic warden (Weiss, apparently delivering her lines phonetically – which is actually perfect for her emotionally-dead character). Gratuitous shower scenes. A predatory lesbian, Riza (Maslova), who is naturally the one whom Mallory must eventually battle in the prison’s fight club, a death-match with freedom on the line for the winner. A nice lesbian, Kat (Grey), who takes Mallory under her wing and trains her in martial arts, as well as engaging in a lengthy session of canoodling with her. No prizes for guessing this was the scene where Chris walked in. [I swear, my wife has some kind of tingly, Spidey-sense for sleaze…] A prisoners’ revolt. Cohn, who also plays Mall’s guardian, adds his own grindhouse spin too, such as the scene where she captures a rat and eats it raw, after the warden off cuts her regular food.

In case any of the proceeding is in any way unclear, this is not high art. Yet, I thoroughly enjoyed this for its melodramatic excesses and unrepentant approach to wallowing in what many would term the cinematic gutter. [Wrongly, I’d say, although that’s a topic for a separate, five-thousand word essay…] It helps that the performances are mostly on the nose; I especially enjoyed watching Maslova, who positively slithers her way around every scene in which she appears. At first, I was inclined to dismiss McCart, who in the early going, appeared to have one expression: permanently aggrieved. Then I realized, if anyone has good reason to be permanently aggrieved, it’s Mallory, since she’s pretty much a punching-bag for life, from the first scene to the last. By the end, I was rooting for her, every punch.

I would like to have seen more of the fight club, not least establishing Riza’s bad-ass credentials, and having Mall take on others as a build-up to the grand finale. There are also some unexplained story elements too, such as the question of why Mallory wants nothing to do with her father. Yet this is the kind of film where such things as the plot matter little, if at all. I stumbled across this accidentally on Netflix and had a blast. However, more than for most movies I review here, that comes with this caveat: your mileage may vary.

Dir: Jared Cohn
Star: Kelly Ann McCart, Kat Grey, Maythavee Weiss, Anastasia Maslova

Bird Box

★★★
“A not-so quiet place”

Malorie Hayes (Bullock) is nervously heading towards the birth of a child, supported by her sister (Hayes), when a mysterious epidemic of suicidal psychosis breaks out worldwide. In the ensuing carnage, Malorie finds shelter in the home belonging to the acidic Douglas (Malkovich), whose wife dies trying to help Malorie, and a small number of other survivors. They figure out the epidemic is triggered by entities of some kind who are now prowling the planet – if you see them, you are overwhelmed by your worst fears and kill yourself. The obvious defense is not to make eye contact. Yet how do you survive in a world you cannot see? Especially when it turns out that those who were previously psychopathically inclined are immune to the effects, and are free to roam that world, with their sight intact.

The structure here is a bit problematic, bouncing back and forth between the early days of the apocalypse, and five years later when Malorie and two children are making their way down a river towards a supposed sanctuary. This both robs the early scenes of some tension, since we know who will and won’t survive, and eventually leads to a troublesome and unexplained leap: how, exactly, did they get from stuck in the city, to farming in the middle of a forest? However, it manages to get by, largely on the strength of Bullock’s intensity. This is apparent from the very first scene, where she’s instructing the five-year-olds on their imminent journey, in a thoroughly unmotherly manner.

If you’re looking for an explanation, you’ll need to look elsewhere, as the film never provides any. I’m not sure whether the book in which this was based was any more forthcoming [one thing I do know is, in the novel and not the movie, the sanctuary was populated by people who had deliberately blinded themselves] This isn’t necessarily a problem: indeed, it has been a genre staple going back at least to Night of the Living Dead, to present an apocalypse and its consequences without rationale. Yet, the specifics of the event here seem particularly contrived e.g. simultaneous parturition, and if you’re overly concerned with story logic, this may prove troublesome.

Fortunately, the performances help overcome this – not limited to, but certainly highlighted by, Bullock’s. Her gradual evolution from someone who isn’t certain she wants to be pregnant, into a fiercely protective mother (even to someone else’s kid) is nicely handled, and convincing. She gets particularly good support from Malkovich, playing the jackass character who appears almost de rigeur in any apocalyptic scenario. As many have noted (and the review tagline suggests), there is more than a little similarity to A Quiet Place; though I found that rather underwhelming, and the brutally internalized nature of the threat here seemed considerably more effective. The prospect of having to lose your sight is certainly scarier to me, and if far from perfect, I found enough cheap thrills here to make the time worthwhile.

Dir: Susanne Bier
Star: Sandra Bullock, Trevante Rhodes, John Malkovich, Sarah Paulson

Slay Belles

★★★
“Not-so silent night”

Not to be confused with RuPaul’s 2015 album (I kid you not), this starts off on shaky territory. I mean, a director who credits himself as “Spooky Dan Walker”, and three edgeladies as heroines, wannabe YouTube stars who think dropping F-bombs every second sentence is cool? I was thanking my lucky stars this had a running time of 76 minutes. This trio of urban explorers head off to an abandoned theme park in the middle of nowhere called Santa Land, only to find it not as abandoned as expected, with a giant horned monster, Grampus, roaming the area, operating as the devil’s Christmas ambassador to naughty children. Or adults, which is where Alexi (Klebe), Dahlia (Slaughter) and Sadie (Wagner) come on to its menu. Fortunately, Santa Land’s owner is there to help: who else but Mr. Claus (Bostwick) himself?

And that’s really where the film becomes considerably more fun. Because it plays fast and loose with the whole mythology of Christmas, depicting Santa as a hard-drinking, cursing biker who gave up the business because toys started being mass-produced. It’s a winning performance from Bostwick, who hand-waves away the girls’ questions about how he operated with increasingly irritated dismissals of “Magic!” This irascible charm seems to rub off on the heroines, who shift from irritating to endearing, and develop distinct personalities beyond their colour co-ordinated outfits and wigs, as they buckle down to fight Grampus and save… Well, less Christmas, and more the world in general.

It becomes increasingly self-aware as it goes on, poking as much fun at the world of Internet “celebrities” as endorsing it, e.g. the trio insist on taking selfies with the temporarily captured monster. There’s good support from Richard Moll as a local cop, and in particular, Diane Salinger as a local barmaid, who ends up playing a pivotal role, despite (or, more likely, because of) her clear aversion to the festive season. It all ends in a quite unexpected fashion which, if a bit too abrupt, fits nicely in with the slaying of sacred cows – or sleighing of sacred reindeer, perhaps – which has gone before. It certainly seals the three heroines as the pro-active leaders of the film, despite a shaky section in the middle where it looked like a boyfriend was going to end up saving the day. Not so fast, white knight…

I have to say, the Grampus suit itself is incredibly well done, a latex marvel that must have been hell to apply and perform in. While there are some elements which feel under-developed, such as the Ghoulies-like fur-balls which attack in act three, Walker keeps things moving at a brisk enough pace to get away with it most of the time. If not quite the silliest festive film which I’ve seen this year (that would, of course, be Santa Jaws), this deserves to be filed alongside other anti-Christmas movies, such as Gremlins. It’s no Die Hard, of course; then again, who is?

Dir: Dan Walker
Star: Kristina Klebe, Susan Slaughter, Hannah Wagner, Barry Bostwick

Agent High-Pockets, by Claire Phillips

Literary rating: ★★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆

In September 1941, the author returns to Manila, the capital of the Philippines, starting work as a nightclub singer and falls in love with American GI, John Phillips. Which is unfortunate timing, because soon after, the Japanese bomb Pearl Harbor, kicking off the war in the Pacific. A hasty marriage to John follows on Christmas Eve, but Japan invades, and Claire’s husband becomes a prisoner of war. Left to fend for herself, after a period spent hiding out in the countryside, she returns to Manila, adopting the persona of Dorothy Fuentes, born in the Philippines of Italian parents. In order to help the resistance, she opens a venue, Club Tsubaki, aimed at officers of the occupying forces.

This has a nice irony, since the profits from the business are used to fund both humanitarian work for the POW’s held on the islands, and the growing guerrilla forces up country. Additionally, “Dorothy” – also known as High-Pockets, for her habit of keeping valuables in her bra! – keeps her ears open, and becomes skilled at extracting useful intelligence from her patrons, though a combination of flattery and alcohol. This information, about troop movements, industrial facilities, etc. is then funneled back to the Allies for use in the conflict over the next couple of years. It’s a risky business, and eventually, the Japanese break up the ring, arresting those involved. Claire has to withstand torture and hellish prison conditions, before being sentenced to 12 years for her activities.

Fortunately, there is a happy ending here, since the Americans re-took Manila, freeing our heroine after a rough eight months, during which time she lost about 35% of her body weight. After the war she was awarded the Medal of Freedom, and a movie was made of her story – I Was an American Spy, starring Anne Dvorak as Claire. There are some doubts as to the accuracy of her account: a post-war claim for compensation was severely reduced, with many of her statements “later found to be without foundation,” the court even concluding there was “no corroboration of her testimony that she was married.” So we should likely take this her tale here with a pinch of salt as to the details, though the basic elements seem credible enough.

It takes a while to get to the good stuff, with rather too much about her social life, etc. Even after the invasion, she spends a good while suffering from malaria in a hut. The more it goes on, however, the more this improves, as you began to understand the daily terror of living in occupied territory, where every night could be your last, and any knock on the door might be the dreaded kempei, the military police. It’s also fascinating to read her techniques for extracting useful information from her clientele with seemingly innocent questions like “How many will be in your party? I must know so that I can reserve places.” Her matter-of-fact recounting the horrors of prison life is also memorable, such as the incident where a fellow prisoner caught and skinned a cat, eating it raw. Worst of all is the sentence which follows: “There was another cat on the premises, and I began to look at it longingly.”

To modern ears, there is something of a not-so casually racist tone here, Phillips spattering the text with references to “Japs”, “Nips”, etc. and mocking their efforts to speak Engrish [how’s her Japanese, I wondered…] However, given the war circumstances and situation – this was an invading force after all – we need to put this in context. This was a time, after all, when Hollywood was making cartoons like Bugs Bunny Nips the Nips. We probably shouldn’t condemn the author by applying modern standards to an entirely different situation, to which they do not fit.

Author: Claire Phillips
Publisher: Amazon Digital Services, available through Amazon as a paperback or e-book.
a.k.a. Manila Espionage

The Girl in the Spider’s Web

★★★
“The name is Bond. Lisbeth Bond!”

It’s always difficult writing about a new entry in the so-called Millennium series: the whole franchise always comes with so much baggage and you never know how much a reader is aware of it or not. But I will try to spare you as much superfluous information about the books and the legal right battles between Larsson’s relatives as possible. A lot of it was in the press already in 2009 when the first Swedish film of the now almost classic Millennium-trilogy, based on the famous novels of late journalist-turned-author Stieg Larsson, came out and then with the aftermath of David Fincher’s ill-fated remake of the first movie in 2011.

After seeing the enormous worldwide success of the original movies, Sony bought the remake rights to Larsson’s books with the intent to launch a new successful movie franchise. It’s difficult to calculate what Sony exactly expected but my feeling is they thought they would have their next Hunger Games or Twilight in their hands, including similar great financial turnovers. Unfortunately, their plans didn’t work out as Fincher’s remake, while well-reviewed, didn’t make as much money as hoped. Even their aspirations for awards failed, compared to the original movies, which won many prizes, with Noomi Rapace’s performance making her a break-out star all over Europe in 2009.

In 2012 MGM (who had co-financed the movie) stated that the movie would have at least to have made 10% more to meet their expectations. Looking at the numbers, Fincher’s The Girl with the Dragon tattoo-remake cost around $90 million and made $103m in the US and a little bit over $230m world-wide. If you compare that with the original, which cost $13m (but according to Rapace, closer to $10m), with a world-wide gross of $100m. That may give you an idea what kind of disappointment the remake must have been for Sony and MGM. Why do I mention all this here? Well, I want to show how economic considerations can change an entire franchise and maybe even a main character. Because the results of the conclusions from these numbers, lead directly to this new movie, The Girl in the Spider’s web.

The big problem for Sony: They had paid good money for the film rights of the saga and already had David Fincher and screenwriter Steven Zaillian under contract for the planned two sequels. In the past it usually had been no big problem of taking a successful European movie, re-making it for an American audience and having an even larger financial success at the box-office. I think this kind of film-making model started somewhere in the 80s with French film hits like Three men and a Baby, albeit with some strange results e. g. My Father the Hero, both times with Gerard Depardieu being. [Sony did ask Rapace to repeat her role for the remake; she declined]

But times have changed and foreign films are much easier available, even to American audiences. What Sony perhaps did not consider was that the Millennium movies had already been seen by most of those people interested in them (even though in the US they played in the usual far-away arthouse cinemas. The films were even available in an acceptably English-dubbed version, if you were one of those people who couldn’t read or stand subtitles. So, for a large part of the audience this story was nothing new and – going from what I have heard about high American cinema ticket prices (I live in Germany) – were probably thinking twice about paying well-earned bucks to see the same story again, only spoken by American and British actors in a higher-budgeted, glossier version.

One of the reasons, Fincher’s movie didn’t do so well, may have been its release date. A movie advertised as “the feel-bad movie of the year”… is not very well placed at Christmas! Sony definitely has learned from this, starting their The Girl in the Spider’s Web in all countries either this October or November, a more appropriate time for darker movies. This year, it was a period which saw the release of Venom, Halloween and the Suspiria remake in cinemas. Sony also realized before the 2011 movie came out, that while people were aware of the upcoming movie, a lot of them didn’t plan on seeing it. This resulted in the studio releasing the first 8 minutes online, a desperate emergency measure.

While a large part of the female readership in the US loved to read the suspenseful novels, following the adventures of their heroine, they were perhaps less keen on seeing the character they identified with being raped on the big screen. The graphic content that is part of the Larsson-parcel is one thing between the covers, but a totally different matter to watch in a movie. I myself felt very awkward (and a bit ashamed) when watching the respective scene/s in the original movie in cinema in 2009. The simple fact is: The Millennium books are not “feel-good novels”. They are dark “Scandi noir“, strongly inspired by a lot of other dark crime novels of Scandinavian authors going back to the early 70s.

These stories very often feature acts of gross violence; realistic descriptions of destroyed corpses, long before American crime novels featuring crime-solving female forensics started doing the same; and social criticism that started somewhere in the early 70s. It also reminds me of the German crime-TV-series Tatort, where very often the social backgrounds of murderers were the focus, rather than the classical “Whodunnit”. Gone were larger-than-life investigators like Sherlock Holmes or the “big bad” who is evil incarnate.

Granted, Larsson’s novels still feature some of these classic elements. His books often read like a summary of every crime novel he ever read: according to sources he was very proficient in the crime novel genre, both the classics as well as modern. There’s some Silence of the Lambs creepiness in the first book; the strange mysterious heroine with incredible hacker skills and asocial behavior (a kind of modern female Sherlock Holmes-version for the new… millennium); a bit of rape-revenge-fantasy going on; some Agatha Christie-like puzzles; followed by Swedish secret service intrigues (inspired by real-life events of the early 70s), followed by a courtroom drama in the last book. And overall a big round-house kick against the so-called peaceful social state of Sweden.

Larsson probably felt like a rebel, though he hadn’t really done anything others hadn’t done before him. But the strength and intensity of his attitude and convictions always did shine through his novels and were very well translated into the Swedish movies. The Fincher remake (probably because a lot of American audiences wouldn’t understand or be interested in it) left the social criticism out. Which is ironic, as this was probably the main reason why Larsson wrote his books in the first place.

The big problem was how to make a sequel for less money, that would make Sony’s investment finally profitable. Key, of course, were the overly large payments made when doing The girl with the dragon tattoo. If we subtract the money paid for “star-director” David Fincher, screenwriter Steve Zaillian and star Daniel Craig from the original film’s budget of $90m or more, the movie would have only cost half as much!

Just let that sink in. I’ll wait.

But then everyone has his price tag, and these kind of sums make sense when you expect your movie to make big bank, right? Sony simply overestimated the appeal of the product they were offering. Also, there was an expensive, ill-fated marketing campaign (for which Fincher himself was originally responsible

So, what to do? Well, negotiations with David Fincher are always problematic; he’s seen as “difficult”. He had a “play or pay” contract, and would be paid anyway, even if they didn’t make the next film with him in order to produce a less costly sequel. I don’t know how the arrangement with Fincher ended but he did another movie for Sony and is an “executive producer” of the new movie, an absolutely meaningless title – director Fede Alvarez admitted he never met Fincher during the production). But Fincher proved he can make a very successful thriller for less money, two years later, with the very successful and lower-priced (around $60m) adaptation of Gillian Flynn’s bestseller Gone Girl, with Ben Affleck and Rosamond Pike.

Second problem: Daniel Craig. While the studio probably thought for a long time that it could hold him and continue with him and Rooney Mara, it turned out that Craig expected a pay rise after Skyfall became the first Bond movie to make more than one billion dollars worldwide. That let to heavy re-writes of the script on which Zaillian had already worked. The executives of Sony came up with a lot of dumb ideas, such as making books 2 and 3 into one movie (rather than the usual Hollywood tack of splitting the last book into two movies!), or taking Mikael Blomkvist completely out, to focus solely on the Lisbeth Salander character.

To understand what kind of… stupidity that is (I’m not using more vulgar language here, though it definitely would be appropriate!), one either has to have read the books or at least seen the original movies. The second and third books cover Lisbeth Salander’s backstory, revealed like a puzzle that’s slowly put together over a story-arc that encompasses both. It makes her appearance in Dragon Tattoo similar to what Red Dragon was for the Hannibal Lecter-character, but Mikael Blomkvist is essential for that story.

While he was arguably the main character in the first book, his and Salander’s storylines cross in the second and third, running parallel as they carry out independent research on two different cases, connected with each other (this is the way Raymond Chandler structured his Philip Marlowe novels). He saves her at the end of the second book, giving us an open ending. The beginning of the third finds Salander unconscious after dangerous brain surgery in hospital, with Blomquist doing the research and police their own investigation, resulting in a big court room trial. I would say over all of these books and films Blomkvist’s and Salander’s “screentime” is approximately 50:50: both are equally essential for and contribute to the stories.

Of course, you always can invent a new character, or give that poor computer nerd Plague, briefly shown in the movies, a much, much more prominent role. But this would be as nonsensical as telling a Sherlock Holmes story without Dr. Watson (or Holmes, depending on how you see Salander and Blomkvist). Simply put, Sony found themselves in a corner with no good solution at hands. They had paid for expensive film rights, produced a costly movie that didn’t make much money, and the right-holders blocked a proposed American TV series. This could well have been the end of Blomkvist’s and Salander’s cinematic exploits.

Enter Daniel Lagercrantz, who had been hired by the publishers to take over the series in 2013. They were in dire need of a hit, so Lagercrantz was hired to write new books based on Larsson’s characters. [We may never see the next entry in the series that Larsson had already started to write before his untimely death. It is reportedly saved on a laptop owned by his partner Eva Gabrielson] I haven’t read Lagercrantz’ book so can’t judge how close the new movie is to his novel. But according to those who have, the film follows the book very loosely. It seems the director and screenwriters have more or less built their own story, in particular ending differently from the novel. It’s up to you whether that makes the story better or worse.

His first, The Girl in the Spider’s Web came out in 2015, followed by The Girl Who Takes an Eye for an Eye in 2017, and became immediate bestsellers. It may not have been due to his writing qualities – many critics and fans of the original books have really torn it apart – so much as that for many this was a chance to read new material with their beloved characters after almost 10 years. This isn’t new. Arthur Conan Doyle’s son released new “official” Sherlock Holmes stories in the 1950s and Dorothy L. Sayers’ Lord Peter Wimsey novels have also been getting additional entries after her death. And let’s not forget the myriad of Bond novels written since Ian Fleming passed away in 1964.

So why not do the same for the Millennium series? It’s just as legit as all the others. Just be aware, this is not the original. Not the original author, not the original novels and… yeah… maybe…these aren’t really the same characters anymore, either? Your enjoyment may depend greatly on being able to ignore this or not care about it. For comic book fans that may be easier as they are more used to this kind of thing: I mean, how many people have written Superman or Batman over the years?

At least for Sony, it was the solution for all of their problems. The danger of a direct comparison isn’t there anymore, as this has never been filmed before. Also the question of faithfulness is less important, as this is not based on anything Larsson wrote. They could restart, reboot or whatever term you prefer, just jump over all the complicated stuff in the second or third book, and have this series be whatever they want it to be. A fresh start, so to speak. As far as I can see this is exactly what they did with it: I just have no idea to what degree this was Lagercrantz’ doing and to what degree Sony’s.

The new Millenium movie is therefore quite a different beast. The question is if audiences will accept or reject it, and also of course if these characters still resonate with general audiences 13 years after the first book became a bestseller. With Fede Alvarez, Sony chose a competent director who has already proven that he can make very successful “darker” movies with a smaller budget as evidenced by his Evil Dead remake and his own Don’t Breathe, a recent surprise success. As a matter of fact, I think Alvarez is a very good technical director. And if you would have asked me before the movie if Alvarez is a more stylish director than Fincher, I probably would have said no. But indeed TGitSW is even more style-oriented than Fincher’s movie. Alvarez simply does know how to make things look “cool”. Pity that he has to work with such average material.

Interestingly, the movie was filmed to a large degree in the Berlin-Babelsberg-studios in Potsdam, as well as elsewhere in Berlin, Hamburg, the airport Halle/Leipzig and other parts of Germany. The reason for this is that makers can participate in German film funds that co-finance movies with money if you film in the respective “Bundesländern”. Alright, now I know what is being done with my taxes! But it’s definitely nice to see the well-known Berlin “Teufelsberg” (Devil’s Mountain – named that because a considerable number of children have broken their necks there while sledging it down over the centuries!) doubling for a place in Sweden.

It’s also worth noting, no “big” names are to be found in the cast this time. No Craigs, Plummers, Skarsgards, Robin Wrights or Steven Berkoffs, with neither Claire Foy nor Sylvia Hoeks highly paid stars (as of yet!). Foy, an acclaimed actress thanks to the series The Crown, is the third actress to play Salander and may have an advantage that Rooney Mara did not have: She doesn’t come immediately after Noomi Rapace! While everyone might have had one’s own idea of Lisbeth Salander before the first movie, it really was Rapace who put her stamp on the character and – as evidenced by many interviews – her influence on how the character should be portrayed was much larger than one would imagine. She had a very specific idea of how to bring this character to life on screen and even told director Niels Arden Oplev to worry about other things, because she would know the character better than him.

And it has to be said, Rapace set the blueprint, the parameters for the character on film. This can be compared to Sean Connery becoming the first James Bond: it is difficult for any other actor to come after someone has defined a role so strongly. When Roger Moore became James Bond – though he later admitted he then wondered if he had just committed career suicide – he was not in the same position as George Lazenby trying to imitate Connery’s 007 in 1969. People get used to different actors playing the same character eventually (think of Holmes or Tarzan) but it takes time, and any immediate successor will always be seen as a cheat!

As far as I can see it, Claire Foy carefully positions “her” Lisbeth Salander between Rapace and Mara. She is much better – in my personal opinion – than pale Mara, who always felt like a bland fake to me. But at the same time Foy comes across more human and vulnerable than Rapace. Noomi Rapace’s Lisbeth was an enigmatic poker-face with suggestions of great emotional depths underneath, not giving away anything of what happened inside of her. I liked that you had to interpret her behavior and I miss that quite a bit. She was a mystery in a mystery, and very ambivalent.

Foy is tougher than Mara ever could hope to be (though I have the feeling it was Fincher’s conscious decision to “soften” the character, to make her more typically “feminine” and appealing to American audiences) but more accessible and vulnerable than Rapace ever would have Lisbeth be. In certain key moments it also is made quite clear that Lisbeth – how steely and tough she may appear – actually cares for the people around her. But it’s very strange hearing Foy in interviews declaring that they took away sex scenes and nudity in the script “because we didn’t want her to be exploited”. For Noomi Rapace crossed borders as an actress to stress that Lisbeth was indeed sexually exploited and also had her own sexual life.

Something else has been changed. While “original-Lisbeth” got close to readers and audiences due to the fact that so many terrible things did happen to her, this movie at best hints at things. In the original stories we witnessed Lisbeth being taken advantage of, attacked, shot in the head and so on, this Lisbeth here never seems to be in that kind of serious danger. She seems very often at least a step ahead, and can hack anything; it’s virtually a superpower here, because there’s nothing she can’t hack, from airbags to airport doorknobs. She even survives an explosion at her home (that can be seen from miles away and looks as if somebody tried to nuke the place), by jumping in her bath. As does her pet lizard. Who is not in the bath. Fortunate for her that she still can use her laptop after everything has been burned…

Yeah, Lisbeth has unofficially entered James Bond-fantasy-land! Not that I really mind so much. It definitely is entertaining and when The Girl who Played with Fire (both book and film) came out there was already criticism of the direction in which Larsson was moving his heroine. But then you always had the feeling these incredible things happened to a very real person – one who, after being shot in the head, had to spend months in a hospital to recover. This kind of carefully balanced dance between over-the-top elements and realism can’t be found here, because Lisbeth has become less human and more a superhero character. But with that, she also becomes a bit boring, I fear.

This is definitely a more sanitized version of Lisbeth Salander – this had already been done with the Fincher movie – intended to be more acceptable for a larger mainstream audience than the original ever was. The team behind this movie definitely took away from the controversial aspects and ambivalence of the character, and are also careful not to step on anyone’s toes with Foy declaring in interviews that Lisbeth Salander is not meant to be a poster girl for the #metoo movement. I really got the impression that Sony is pulling all the strings to make this Lisbeth a big mainstream hit so they can finally get that big money-making franchise they wanted it to be in 2011.

Only they make different mistakes this time. Somehow the original Salander is just too difficult a character to sell to large audiences, so they keep changing her. Fincher made her a bland feminized character that could appear softer at Daniel Craig’s side. Now, Alvarez makes her some kind of cross between a superheroine, Bond and Sherlock Holmes. I really get the feeling that there’s some kind of cultural communication problem when portraying this character in an American movie.

What I personally find a bit regrettable is that the complex backstory of Salander doesn’t play a role in this movie here anymore, beyond some references. As a matter of fact this movie – again, I don’t know if it was already like that in the book – almost retcons her backstory. What I get from the original books and movies, she lived with her mother in a single flat, not with her father in a big building far from civilization. While her father was a terrible criminal and double-agent, physically abusing her mother, there was no indication he was a pedophile and abusing his young daughters sexually. Maybe Lagercrantz added that, thinking, “Why not? Every other evil man in these books is a rapist, so he might be one, too?” While Lisbeth hears from her sister, Camilla in the second book for the first time, here the movie makes you believe that they grew up together.

The attempt to cut the Blomkvist role, or at least make it as small as possible, may stem from the time when screenwriters tried to minimize Craig’s involvement in the next film. It shows here. While Sverrir Gudnason is not a bad actor, he, as well as the now also much younger appearing Erika Berger (played by Vickie Krieps), hardly play anything more than a supporting role in this movie. And forget about calling this a Millennium-movie as the magazine Blomkvist was writing for has been sold and he is not writing anymore. It’s suggested he had only two great stories, both due to Lisbeth – which is just wrong when you’ve read the books! For me, this feels like a grave faux-pas, as if Sherlock Holmes moved out of 221B Baker Street. The feeling I got was that Blomkvist and Berger were in the movie because the filmmakers knew they belonged to these stories but didn’t know anything of relevance to do with them.

But it also seems as if the entire genre has changed which is a bit perplexing. Someone put it better into words than I ever could: “It’s as if Goldfinger is the sequel to Psycho.” I find this a very fitting remark. While the original novels as well as films (Fincher’s included) had a decidedly eerie psycho-thriller feel, this comes across more like a James Bond or Jason Bourne movie. Sure, the originals also had a conspiracy of old secret service members (which reminded me a bit of The X-Files), the double-agent Zalatschenko, and with Niedermann an almost Bondian henchman. Still, the feeling was these were down-to-earth thrillers, fed by real-life scandals of Sweden’s past, and also dealing with an inhumane social system oppressing helpless individuals and a terrible treatment of women in society in general that Larsson depicted.

Don’t misunderstand me. I’ve never been a fan of Larsson’s (in my opinion) relatively one-sided left-wing agenda, his strange ideas of what he thought feminism was, his outspoken black-and-white portrayal of different parts of society (left-wing journalists and women vs. evil capitalists and social authorities responsible for any imaginable crime). But heck, that was what his fictional universe was about. I think if one continues the series of an author one should honor his work and themes. And if you’re not able to, stay away and leave it to someone else. It feels somehow like a cheat to discard all of that, create something VERY different and still call it Salander and Blomqvist. There’s a German word for this: “Etikettenschwindel”. This is when the writing on a can in the supermarket says “chocolate cake” and when you open it at home you find it contains noodles.

Sure, I don’t mind noodles! But heck, the backstory and the complicated character of Salander being hardly more than a side-note or even partly replaced by a new one; the world-view of the original creator more or less disregarded; social criticism not existent here anymore (okay, the last was a complaint one could have had with Fincher’s movie, too). This feels kind of not okay, if you are a fan of the original books! As mentioned, I’ve not read Lagercrantz’ book – and according to friends who did, I shouldn’t bother – so I don’t know how close this is to what he has written. But many online pointed out that the plot with the CIA and an autistic little boy reminded them of the old action-thriller Mercury Rising with Bruce Willis and Alec Baldwin. So, maybe Lagercrantz is just stealing from other sources than Larsson?

Personally, I felt reminded of Bond movies, or at least aspects from Bond movies. Lisbeth with a connection to her sister, is similar to Bond with his (now) stepbrother Blofeld in Spectre and another plot element reminded me quite a bit of Roger Moore’s Bond movie, Moonraker. As a movie, the story flows quickly from scene to scene. While all previous efforts were slow-burning Scandi noirs, very often building suspense and tension, also sometimes with scenes without any or much dialogue, even no music, this moves much faster, just like Lisbeth on her motorbike.

It also brings in a number of action scenes, an element that was there in the originals but at no time as prominent as here. And while the other movies were long movies, up to 2½ hours (which may also have cinemas one or two showings a day) this one has the very digestible length of 117 minutes. My feeling is that this is the streamlined, newly-wrapped and more digestible version of Lisbeth Salander. Everything has undergone a vital change, but the core of Stieg Larsson’s phantasmagorias has largely been discarded – or put so much to the side that it is almost irrelevant.

I very much understand Sony’s decisions, though will still judge them for it. They want their investment back, and want to get out of their property what they still can. After last year’s disappointing Hollywood Scandi noir The Snowman, with Michael Fassbender, it doesn’t seem such a very bad idea to reposition the potential franchise, to get away from personal, overcomplicated drama and recreate Ms Salander as the female James Bond media has been talking so much about in the last years. The thing is: They are cheating their – potential – audience of the original content of the series. The question is, if the audience is willing to eat up this deception or just ignore it? Because, you know: glossy photography, cool-looking action and strong female hero?

Side-note: Though Larsson himself said shortly before his death, that with the first three books he had done the heavy lifting to lay the groundwork, I personally felt all he had to say of importance has been said. Sure, he could have spun out his story, the way these new stories by Lagercrantz obviously do. But what could realistically still have come? My feeling is, though Larsson had planned a series of 10 books, these three books feel self-contained. I can’t imagine anything he still could have written would have been able to impress me more. If Salander and Blomkvist would just have investigated new cases on a regular basis, with us already knowing Lisbeth’s backstory, it wouldn’t have held the same kind of interest anymore.

In a way it made sense Larsson died after these three books. His work was done. And therefore it doesn’t make really any sense from a logical standpoint, that the series is continued – neither with new books nor a new movie.

How should we value such a movie? As already mentioned, it has to do with expectations. I can understand that American audiences (who maybe first saw the Fincher movie) and European audiences (who loved the Rapace trilogy) won’t be comfortable with that new movie. Neither will die-hard fans of the Larsson books. At the same time I could easily imagine that younger audiences, not accustomed to the books and the films, beyond having heard of the series, may actually be fine with this action-filled wanna-be James Bond-film and like it. Heck, new audiences also embraced Daniel Craig as Bond, and had no big problems with Sherlock Holmes becoming an action-hero as Robert Downey Jr!

Revisiting the old movies before this film again, I realized why I liked them so tremendously in 2009. They were simply good detective stories, telling their stories in a calm and unexcited, but nevertheless suspenseful and effective way. The film I felt could best serve for comparison was the old Connery mystery The Name of the Rose. Now compare how overdone they became in Hollywood. It feels proof of the old saying: “Sometimes less is more.” These, now almost “classic”, movies felt honest and truthful maybe just because they were so naturalistic, without any hocus-pocus, or as overdone as your usual Hollywood movie, that comes with a much higher budget, glossy camera work, elaborate directing styles, artistic gadgetry and what have you.

There is the charm of a simpler style that Hollywood is somehow never really able to replicate because it requires a different mindset than a blockbuster factory can achieve. The only movie that really touched me emotionally was the original Dragon Tattoo: those characters seemed to be grounded in reality. When Henrik Vanger wept at the beginning or Lisbeth finally finds the courage to visit her mother and speak with her, it was touching because these are the reactions of normal people and we can identify with those. When I see the American films and especially this one with “Super-Salander” and these shallow new versions of the supporting characters… it leaves me totally cold, never mind how good Claire Foy is an actress or how cool the action-scenes are. It’s kind of strange; James Bond has been forced in the last few films to become a “normal” human being again, yet Lisbeth Salander seems to become less and less human with every new movie!

As an action-thriller, I think it’s nicely done and enjoyable, though unfortunately quite average; that’s reflected in the rating above. But as a continuation of that what Stieg Larsson and the original movies once started, I think I would have to deduct a star. Maybe give a half-star back, because the action scenes were nice to look at and I do like Claire Foy’s engagement. You really need to have quite some confidence to take on a role which two other actresses have already done. I like her as an action heroine, and would love to see her in another genre entry. As the third actress in the role she does quite well, positioning herself somewhere above Mara and below Rapace, due to never reaching the incredible intensity and ambivalence Rapace’s performance exuded.

If this movie was an exam in school the teacher would have written under it: “You have failed the subject!” But there are indeed reasons to watch this in cinemas: Because Claire Foy is really good in the role. Because you feel nostalgic for these kind of thrillers, which Hollywood used to make some 20 years ago and would like to see again. Because there are still not enough movies with female heroes out there. Maybe you just feel in the mood for a thriller. Or the best one of them all: Because it may actually be the last time that you will see Lisbeth on the big screen. Or at all.

Only time will tell if Lisbeth Salander and Mikael Blomkvist will actually become classic evergreen characters like Sherlock Holmes, Hercule Poirot, Philip Marlowe and James Bond, or if they will one day just being regarded as a passing short-lived trend-du-jour of the early 21st century’s crime literature. The new movie has not become the big blockbuster Sony probably hoped for, though the low budget costs should be covered – if not in cinemas, then through home distribution (I stopped counting of how often the Fincher movie has been shown on German TV over the last seven years!).

For the question is: where does she go from here? If the audience is not really that interested in a more streamlined Lisbeth Salander, there is hardly any reason to film the next few books written by Lagercrantz, right? If this movie is another underwhelming investment for Sony, and they still would like to continue, it seems to me the only other option they have is another reboot in a couple of years – with a new director and yet again another new cast, and maybe an even smaller budget – and finally adapt the second and third books in the series written by Larsson.

As a parallel, right now, a good 20 or so years after the dismal big-budget flop of The Saint with Val Kilmer, there are rumors that Chris Pratt may try on the role that once made Roger Moore famous. Hollywood would rather reboot well-known characters for the 20st time than invest in new, untested material or characters. But maybe Sony still can persuade the copyright-holders to allow an attempt as a serialized TV-show?

Dir: Fede Álvarez
Star: Claire Foy, Sverrir Gudnason, LaKeith Stanfield, Sylvia Hoeks

Terminal

★★★½
“Style wars.”

Oozing with a unique visual style that’s like a brutalist cross between Blade Runner and Alice in Wonderland, this focuses on a battle for business between assassins. Annie (Robbie) – or, maybe, she’s called Bonnie – wants to take over the murderous commissions of the mysterious Mr. Franklin. He agrees, only if she takes out the current incumbents, Vince (Fletcher) and his apprentice, Alfred (Irons). Simultaneously, while working as a waitress in an all-night diner at a railway station, she meets Bill (Pegg), a terminally-ill English teacher, who enters her establishment while waiting for a train in front of which to throw himself.

This was ferociously slagged off by many critics, Peter Travers of Rolling Stone calling it, “one of the worst movies ever made.” [Mind you, as the man after whom eFilmCritic named their Quote Whore of the Year award, all his opinions should be taken accordingly…] It’s certainly not that bad, though having stumbled across it on Hulu, our investment in it was strictly limited to 96 minutes. I do admit, the two strands which run through much of the film, never truly mesh. Each works well enough individually – they are just so different in tone and content, you wonder if the script would have been better off sticking to one or the other, and figured out a way to avoid the rather large lump of expository backstory delivered at the end.

However, Annie/Bonnie acts as a binding element to the storylines, manipulating the other three participants with the practiced ease of the expert sociopath. Robbie, who was also a producer, is a hell of a lot of fun to watch, channeling the spirit of Billie Piper, all blonde hair and perkiness; Pegg is also good value, going significantly against his usual type. Fletcher, best known for his roles under director Guy Ritchie, still seems to think he’s in Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels, yet it’s not ineffective. The only performance with which I had a problem was the stunt casting of Mike Myers, in a fairly pivotal role as the station-master. I’ve never exactly been a fan of his approach to (over-)acting, and this film reminded me why.

When it comes to cinematic style, I’ve also been a believer in “go big or go home,” and you won’t be surprised for which direction Stein opts. As a result, this feels not dissimilar to Sucker Punch in its approach, both in terms of the hyper-stylized picture it paints, and also in treading the line between exploiting the male gaze and undermining it [there’s no doubt who the sharpest tool in the box is here, and it’s not even close]. I’d like to have seen the film go a bit more full-bore with the Wonderland theme; the potential there is ignored, and largely limited to a few quotes and nods. Still, we were certainly never bored, the visuals proving capable of tiding us over both the weaker moments in the script, and Mike Myers.

Dir: Vaughn Stein
Star: Margot Robbie, Dexter Fletcher, Simon Pegg, Max Irons

In The Fade

★★★
“Death wish, too.”

I spent most of the movie going back and forth as to whether or not this qualified for inclusion here. Was its lead, perhaps, just too subdued and reactive to be called an “action heroine”? It wasn’t until after the very final scene that I finally was able to decide it does merit a spot. Though make no mistake, this is a long, slow-burning fuse before it goes off.

The life of Katja Şekerci (Kruger) is torn apart when a bomb is left outside her husband’s office, killing both him and their young son. Initially, the cops suspect his past has caught up with him – he did time in prison for dealing hashish. While Katja believes otherwise, matters are not helped by Katja’s relapse into drug-use to deal with the pain. Eventually, she is proven right, and the police arrest a husband and wife pair of neo-Nazis (Hilsdorf and Brandhoff). They are tried, but the law fails to deliver the justice Katja wants, and she is forced to take matters into her own hands, despite the pleas of her lawyer (Moschitto) to trust the system.

As vigilante movies go… this one probably doesn’t. It’s instead divided into three acts: the first covers the explosion and its immediate impact; the second the trial; and the third what ensues thereafter, as Katja tracks down the perpetrators. In a more traditional genre entry, the first two would be disposed of in about 15 minutes, but here, they’re much more the focus. In particular, we see, in almost painful detail, Katja’s progress through the stages of grief – though it’s less a passage through them, and more a downward spiral towards a pitch-black version of acceptance. Indeed, she’s in the middle of a suicide attempt, filmed in disturbingly chill passivity, when she gets news of the terrorists’ arrests.

I have some issues with certain aspects of the plot. For instance, her conviction this was a terrorist attack, while eventually right, seems to come out of thin air. I’m also less than certain it’s quite as easy to make a bomb as is suggested [I’m pretty sure  – and certainly hope – that even looking up instructions on Google would quickly get you watched, especially given the circumstances here] However, her single-minded dedication to punish those she holds responsible, regardless of the personal cost, is striking, and there’s no arguments about the strength of Kruger’s portrayal either, which is excellent. You truly feel her grief, and this makes everything she does subsequently, a natural product of it.

Confucius supposedly said, “Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves.” This is a feature adaptation of that concept, with Katja more or less fatally wounded – at least, inside – along with her husband and child. This is not an uplifting film by any means. Indeed, it manages to become more depressing the longer it goes on, and considering the real starting point is a six-year-old being literally blown into pieces, that’s quite a feat. Not necessarily a bad thing, of course; although the net result is a film of merit, yet one I’m unlikely to watch again.

Dir: Fatih Akin
Star: Diane Kruger, Denis Moschitto, Hanna Hilsdorf, Ulrich Brandhoff
a.k.a. Aus dem Nichts