Helvi Oosterman

Last year I was in the bookshop in Newtown wanting to buy something with my mother’s day book voucher. Being keen on Scandinavian crime writers like Henning Mankell, I was looking for something by him. Of course, I normally only buy crime stories in second hand book shops or at markets; I tend to keep my money for more serious literature…

As I was in a hurry I ended up accidently buying the second one of the Stieg Larsson’s trilogy.  Only a few weeks ago I managed to get the first one of the series, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.

To my great delight the movie of the same title was showing in our neck of the woods, in Bowral. We decided the best time to see it would be 6.30 pm as people would be most likely getting ready to cook or to at least start planning their dinners. We had a nice early pub dinner and were ready at the cinema a few minutes of the movie starting.

To our horror the queue was very long and by the time it was our turn to buy the tickets the boy behind the counter announced that only ten tickets were available, and that he would return to us as soon as he had settled the masses. I of course pleaded that I could sit anywhere, on my own, no need to find a two-seater for us. The ten of us ended up sitting in the front row; it was the only way…

Now, I had not had time to finish the book, so I did not know who the killer was, anymore than how this book would end, so seeing the film was going to seriously affect my pleasure of finishing the story. The movie lasted two and half hours but it was not one minute too long for us.

The film is tighter than the book.  I thought all actors were good, and of course the actress playing the girl with the tattoos, Lisbeth Salander, was excellent. I also do not agree with Margaret from the Movie Show that Michael Nyquist wasn’t well cast in the  leading male role, he can bring me flowers anytime…

For me the movie was also a trip home or at least a visit in the neighbourhood; I loved the snow filled winter landscapes, the pine and birch forests, the old summer huts on the lakes, the carrying in the firewood, the endless coffee drinking, even the Swedish formality, the pressed field flowers, whose Latin names I still remember, after all, I had to do at least fifty of them during my lower high school summers.

For Gez and me it’s a must-see. Don’t take my word for it, see it yourself!