November 29, 2010
This is obviously the season for final(ish) installments of epic and long-running series. While Harry Potter and co. have been at it longer, they don't have the monopoly: Stieg Larsson's third in his Millennium trilogy The Girl who Kicked the Hornet's Nest (orginal Swedish: The Air Castle That Was Blown Up) has finally hit the Big Screen in the UK. Larsson aficionados unite in glorious celebration. And of course if Larsson hadn't met an early demise worthy of one of his own conspiracy theories he'd have out-pottered Potter too.
I immediately hot-footed to the Phoenix, where my fellow Larssonist and I prepared to gorge ourselves on the latest installment of everybody's favourite Scandinavian page-and-stomach turner. We weren't disappointed. The plot was shortened, the character relationships hideously underdeveloped, but this was a film! Two meagre hours to fill an entire Larsson book?! Fools they, who ever attempted it. But they did, and it is good.
It feels ruthless. The plot takes short cuts like the Swedish Police late for a funeral. Characters have disappeared (where is the battery charger?!) and whole elements have been thrown on to the scrapheap of time. There is no time to pander to your book-reading emotions. No, you must watch the film, and be happy. OR THEY WILL PUSH YOU DOWN THE WELL.
It is right. It is how a Salander story should be.
I will, I fear, go to see the Hollywood adaptation when it arrives. If only because I have to. Morbid curiosity reigns supreme in this area. But most of all, more than any feelings of plot-battery or character-curtailment, I came out with and overriding desire to read the book again. All of them. They are marvellous, and you should go to see the film just to remind yourself of quite how good they are.
If you haven't read the books, do so, quickly. You will need about a week, by which time the film will still be on (just).
Because if you haven't read the book, you don't know about the ending...
I immediately hot-footed to the Phoenix, where my fellow Larssonist and I prepared to gorge ourselves on the latest installment of everybody's favourite Scandinavian page-and-stomach turner. We weren't disappointed. The plot was shortened, the character relationships hideously underdeveloped, but this was a film! Two meagre hours to fill an entire Larsson book?! Fools they, who ever attempted it. But they did, and it is good.
It feels ruthless. The plot takes short cuts like the Swedish Police late for a funeral. Characters have disappeared (where is the battery charger?!) and whole elements have been thrown on to the scrapheap of time. There is no time to pander to your book-reading emotions. No, you must watch the film, and be happy. OR THEY WILL PUSH YOU DOWN THE WELL.
It is right. It is how a Salander story should be.
I will, I fear, go to see the Hollywood adaptation when it arrives. If only because I have to. Morbid curiosity reigns supreme in this area. But most of all, more than any feelings of plot-battery or character-curtailment, I came out with and overriding desire to read the book again. All of them. They are marvellous, and you should go to see the film just to remind yourself of quite how good they are.
If you haven't read the books, do so, quickly. You will need about a week, by which time the film will still be on (just).
Because if you haven't read the book, you don't know about the ending...