David Fincher is a malicious, sadistic director. He's also bloody brilliant.The movie begins with an almost gruesome montage of oil and technology. Lisbeth's nightmares, perhaps? It's a completely off-the-wall, punch you in the gut visual assault as an industrial version of Immigrant Song booms in the background. I knew I was in for something special when the beginning credits finished.
There is a scene in the movie, and if you've seen the movie or read the book you know the scene, that I hoped would just fade to black. A door slams shut and the camera starts to pull back and I think that I'll be spared. Then it flashes inside the room and we see a little more of what goes on, then back to the outside of the door and I, again, think that I'll be spared. Then we go back inside the room. At this point I'm tempted to close my eyes, because I know what's coming, but I can't. There will be no merciful fade-to-black. You witness the whole thing, and then you are treated to its aftermath. It's a horrible, horrible scene, and it's shown with enough detail to make even the most stoic of people squirm. I felt dirty for watching, but I had to watch. Like a train wreck, you just can't tear your eyes away.
Screw you, David Fincher.
Screw you, David Fincher.