Just saw the Swedish film version of THE GIRL WHO KICKED THE HORNETS' NEST, due in U.S. theaters next month. I thought it was outstanding -- the most difficult to condense and yet the most fully-formed and exciting of the three movies made from Stieg Larsson's posthumously-published bestsellers.
The cast is once again perfect, from Nooni Rapace's touching and savage portrayal of Lis Salander and Michael Nyqvist's gentle but surprisingly muscular Blomkvist to Annika Hallin as Blomkvist's brilliant lawyer sister. Lisa Endre as Blomkvist's lover and publishing partner Erika suffers the most from the necessary cutting (no spoilers here, but an extra dimension of her part in the book has been left out.)
And the villains are spectacular -- mostly because they look like ordinary Swedish civil servants instead of a secret Right Wing faction of the government. Only Georgi Staykov as Zalachenko and the unkillable Micke Spreitz as Niedermann have a nasty glare of evil. And Anders Ahlbom Rosendahl, who plays the viscious psychotherapist intent on locking Salander away for life (until he is reduced to babbling by Lis' lawyer) is especially despicable.
HORNET'S NEST was directed with great style and a modicum of restraint by Daniel Alfredson and written by Jonas Rykerberg and Ulf Ryberg; Alfredson and Rykerberg also worked on THE GIRL WHO PLAYED WITH FIRE, which shows how many talented people there are in the newly-bustling Swedish film industry.
Who knows what the American versions will be like? Daniel Craig is a strong choice for Blomkvist, but as for the others...
Meanwhile, as you hopefully saw on the CBS Sunday Morning program on Oct. 11th, there is the tantalizing promise of a fourth (or is it a fifth?) manuscript ready to roll, as soon as Larsson's squabbling heirs and heiresses can come to an agreement.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Eddie Fisher Vs. George S. Kaufman
The recently deceased Eddie Fisher wasn’t a writer or a criminal--just another sad dancer on the stage of life. But in case you missed former TV talk show host Dick Cavett’s touching and hilarious column (buried in the ghetto of this last Saturday’s New York Times), here’s a recap.
[George S.] Kaufman was one of three panelists on a live, black-and-white TV show called “This is Show Business.” A performer would come on, tell the panel a problem of his, perform and then return to sit before the panel. Each panelist would then comment on the person’s “problem.” (There is a tantalizing glimpse of the great man on this show, on YouTube.)
On the memorable night, Pfc. Eddie Fisher--in uniform, looking about 16--laid out his problem. It was a complaint. He said he was appearing at the Copacabana night club and because of his extreme youth and boyish looks, none of the gorgeous showgirls would consent to go out with him. Then he sang, probably, “O Mein Papa” and sat down to receive the panel’s remarks and advice.
It began with “The Gloomy Dean of American Comedy,” as Kaufman had been labeled by someone. (My guess would be the wit Oscar Levant.) Kaufman’s dark countenance as he balefully gazed upon the juvenile Mr. Fisher promised something good--but what? Though I’m working from memory, the thing is so indelible in my mind that I can just about guarantee you that what follows is no more than--here and there--a few words off. At a measured pace, Kaufman began:
Mr. Fisher, on Mt. Wilson there is a telescope. A powerful telescope that has made it possible to magnify the distant stars to approximately 12 times the magnification of any previous telescope. [pause]
And, Mr. Fisher, atop Mt. Palomar, sits a more recently perfected telescope. This magnificent instrument can magnify the stars up to six times the magnification of the Mt. Wilson telescope.
(Where is he going?, I wondered, glued to the screen, back in Nebraska.)
Then:
As improbable as it would doubtless be, if you could somehow contrive to place the Mt. Wilson telescope inside the Mt. Palomar telescope, Mr. Fisher ... you still wouldn’t be able to see my interest in your problem.
(Pandemonium.)
[George S.] Kaufman was one of three panelists on a live, black-and-white TV show called “This is Show Business.” A performer would come on, tell the panel a problem of his, perform and then return to sit before the panel. Each panelist would then comment on the person’s “problem.” (There is a tantalizing glimpse of the great man on this show, on YouTube.)
On the memorable night, Pfc. Eddie Fisher--in uniform, looking about 16--laid out his problem. It was a complaint. He said he was appearing at the Copacabana night club and because of his extreme youth and boyish looks, none of the gorgeous showgirls would consent to go out with him. Then he sang, probably, “O Mein Papa” and sat down to receive the panel’s remarks and advice.
It began with “The Gloomy Dean of American Comedy,” as Kaufman had been labeled by someone. (My guess would be the wit Oscar Levant.) Kaufman’s dark countenance as he balefully gazed upon the juvenile Mr. Fisher promised something good--but what? Though I’m working from memory, the thing is so indelible in my mind that I can just about guarantee you that what follows is no more than--here and there--a few words off. At a measured pace, Kaufman began:
Mr. Fisher, on Mt. Wilson there is a telescope. A powerful telescope that has made it possible to magnify the distant stars to approximately 12 times the magnification of any previous telescope. [pause]
And, Mr. Fisher, atop Mt. Palomar, sits a more recently perfected telescope. This magnificent instrument can magnify the stars up to six times the magnification of the Mt. Wilson telescope.
(Where is he going?, I wondered, glued to the screen, back in Nebraska.)
Then:
As improbable as it would doubtless be, if you could somehow contrive to place the Mt. Wilson telescope inside the Mt. Palomar telescope, Mr. Fisher ... you still wouldn’t be able to see my interest in your problem.
(Pandemonium.)
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