B+

You can question the need for an English-language remake of a perfectly fine recent European picture all you like—the primary motive, of course, is that American audiences are simply unwilling to read subtitles. But David Fincher’s adaptation of the first book in the late Stieg Larsson’s fabulously successful Millennium trilogy justifies its existence by improving on Niels Arden Oplev’s serviceable but unspectacular Swedish predecessor, though it can’t overcome the flaws of the original book.

Part of the quality of “The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo” derives from the fact that as a lavishly-financed Hollywood project, it boasts major stars and a far slicker physical production than the cash-strapped Swedes could muster. But much of its success derives from Fincher’s ability to create—in collaboration with his behind-the-camera crew (most importantly cinematographer Jeff Cronenweth and production designer Donald Graham Burt), of course—a brooding atmosphere that’s very much in synch with Larsson’s dark, cynical view of humanity.

That mood is important, because it has to be said that as a mystery, “The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo” isn’t really all that special. It involves an investigation undertaken by disgraced journalist Mikael Blomkvist (Daniel Craig) into the disappearance—and presumed murder—years before of Harriet, the beloved niece of aged, wealthy industrialist Henrik Vanger (Christopher Plummer). The girl’s fate is especially puzzling because she was last seen on the remote, and literally inaccessible, family island, and because Vanger has been receiving each year since she went missing her traditional birthday gift to him—a framed artwork.

Blomqvist’s work requires him to move to the island in order to investigate the family members, living and dead, who might have had a hand in the girl’s disappearance or possess information about it. And it eventually brings him an unlikely partner in Lisbeth Salander (Rooney Mara), a punkish outcast who’s also an expert computer hacker and researcher. Lisbeth’s own background—abused in childhood, she’s now a solitary, rebellious ward of the state who suffers brutal treatment at the hands of her loathsome court-appointed guardian (Yorick van Wageningen)—feeds into the theme of eternal male cruelty that’s revealed as the key to the mystery of Harriet’s disappearance. (It isn’t for nothing that the original Swedish title of Larsson’s book translates as “Men Who Hate Women.”)

The convolutions of the novel’s what-happened and whodunit plot, maintained by screenwriter Steve Zaillian as faithfully as one could expect in a two-and-a-half hour film, are wrapped up in all manner of hot-button issues (child molestation, anti-Semitism, corporate corruption, political and judicial shenanigans). But in the end it all comes down to a pretty prosaic, if undeniably ugly, case of multi-generational serial murder, and involves a bunch of far-fetched clues and unlikely coincidences that the reader (or viewer) must be willing to swallow on the way to a final revelation that’s not terribly surprising (doesn’t the culprit always turn out to be the least likely suspect?) and protractedly nasty, but is, undeniably, viscerally satisfying while even leaving room for an almost beatific final twist.

It’s not so much the plot that explains the popularity of “Dragon Tattoo,” though—it’s the character of Lisbeth Salander, who to many has come to represent the modern liberated woman who doesn’t give a damn what others think of her and, as one might say, is mad as hell and not going to take it anymore. Noomi Rapace embodied the girl spectacularly in the Swedish film, and Rooney is equally successful in Fincher’s, capturing both Lisbeth’s suppressed anger and her unbridled rage as she lets loose in her revenge on van Wageningen’s repulsive Bjurman. Viewers might be reluctant to identify with her, but despite her rough exterior she will certainly win their sympathy.

The rest of the cast haven’t the same opportunity to shine, but they support Rooney well. By comparison Craig is almost self-effacing as the tenacious Blomkvist, and Robin Wright nearly anonymous as his concerned editor (and lover). But Plummer contributes another of his superb late-career turns as the frail but determined Henrik, and Stellan Skarsgard offers a typically skillful turn as his supportive son Martin, though anyone would find it difficult to play his biggest scene without a touch of camp creeping in. Van Wageningen makes a perfect sleaze, a character far removed from the jovial one he essayed in “The Way,” and the supporting cast all contribute smaller but telling moments. Like all Fincher’s films, “Dragon Tattoo” is beautifully crafted from a technical standpoint, and it also boasts a quietly menacing score by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, who also worked with the director on “The Social Network.”

So Fincher’s “Girl With the Dragon Tattoo” isn’t just a more opulent replica of a solid European original—it’s an effectively moody, creepy thriller in its own right. But it certainly is one gruesome present to find under the Christmas tree. Once again Hollywood has chosen to act less like Santa Claus than Jack Skellington.