The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo stands as its own story, and one that belonged more to Blomkvist than Salander. The Girl Who Played With Fire delved into Salander’s backstory, and this final chapter in the Millenium Trilogy is really just a sequel to that part. As a denouement, it lacks the same shock and fire of the other movies. In spite of seeing Salander all decked out in mohawk, black makeup, and studded collars (for her murder trial, no less), this is a tamer version of the heroine who fought her own revolution against the establishment in the first two stories.

It might have something to do with the fact that she spends half the movie in a hospital room with a bullet hole in her head, and the other half waiting in prison or in a courtroom. She’s still sharp, surly, and utterly confounding, but she can’t set anyone on fire, take an axe to their noggins, or blackmail them with hidden videos. She does get one last Silence-of-the-Lambs-esque scene, as the movie ties up the final loose end, but it could have used more of these types of scenes.

With Salander laid up, it again falls to Blomkvist to spend the movie tracking down the secret government section that has made everyone’s life miserable. Michael Nyqvist is as good an actor as these movies get, but this story is simply less interesting than the serial killer angle of the first film. The film also excises a subplot from the book involving Blomkvist’s partner Erika Berger, turning her into an unsympathetic, easily frightened wimp. Coincidentally, this is Erika’s most screentime of the three films. Too bad they left the original character behind.

Nonetheless, the film is entertaining, and the resolution is satisfying, though not as explosive as one would hope. Salander still remains one of the great enigmatic characters, and it’s nice to see her making no attempt to re-enter society.

I read the book awhile back. In it, a character named Paulo Roberto, who is an ex-boxer, fights with a blond giant who can’t feel pain. He almost wins. He certainly saves another minor character from a gruesome death. It’s one of the true highlights of the book.

And one of the highlights of watching this movie is seeing the name “Paulo Roberto” in the credits, and realizing that he is a real person who plays himself, in a fictional role. Much like Dan Marino in Ace Ventura, but with substantially better acting. And his fight with the stoic Ronald Niedermann is probably the best action scene in a movie that could use a few more of them.

This movie takes a turn away from the self-contained serial killer story of THE GIRL WITH THE DRAGON TATTOO, and follows the adventures of societal mis-fit Elizabeth Salander, who is apparently connected on several levels to the darkest secrets of the Swedish government. Unfortunately, all three stories in the “Millenium Trilogy” have a bad habit of pretending to be about Salander, when they’re really more focused on journalist Mikael Blomkvist, and whatever vast conspiracy he’s threatening to unearth this week. Don’t get me wrong, Blomkvist makes for a great protagonist (and is expertly acted by Michael Nyqvist), but Salander often gets relegated to the sidelines (she spends most of the movie hiding out as a murder suspect).

The movie tends to be more straightforward than the book. If you’re a purist, you probably won’t like that. Subplots are excised, and so are main plots. The central murders of the story are because of an illegal sex trade, but this is barely mentioned again, once we find out Salander’s prints are on the gun.

The movie ends with a quasi-cliffhanger, as Salander tracks down her long-lost father, who is more or less not happy to be found. If you want all your loose ends neat and tidy, you’ll have to watch part three (THE GIRL WHO KICKED THE HORNET’S NEST).

I have a feeling that Unknown may actually not be that good of a movie, but for some reason, Neeson is enthralling in these sort of high-stakes Eurotrips. It’s a great setup. Neeson is knocked unconcious in the opening minutes, is in a coma for a few days, and when he finally wakes up, he finds someone else has taken over his life. No one believes Neeson’s story — probably because his wife doesn’t back him up. This leaves the rest of the movie for Liam to run around Berlin, trying to prove his case and uncovering a vast Eco-terror plot in the process.

Liam simply owns these movies, and it’s to his credit that he’s reinvented himself as a thinking man’s action star. There’s also great supporting work from Diane Kruger as the cab driver who helps him. She doesn’t get nearly enough work in Hollywood. If only the script had been a little better. Too many times they get help out of nowhere, from a kind-hearted nurse who just happens to know a former East German spy with nothing better to do but take on seemingly insane American hospital patients. It also helps that Diane’s cab driver character is on good terms with a nightclub bouncer, giving them a great hideout when they’re on the run from mysterious agents.

As the twists and turns mount, you think you’re headed to a great pay-off, but the final twist seems too fabricated and unlikely, based on a serious of miraculous incidents (not least of which is why Liam cracked his head in the first place). It should also be noted that January Jones as the wife has a certain woodenness to her performance that has left many forests envious.

Since ancient times, humankind has struggled with storing spare change. I believe it was the Romans who first used a spare sock. With the Renaissance came the invention of the glass jar. And now, as we march boldly into the Twenty-First Century, I am pleased to announce that after a lifetime of hard research and product testing, I have finally hit upon the perfect spare change repository:  A hollowed-out pig.

You have to admit, this is sheer genius on my part. The answer seems so obvious in retrospect. How many different types of containers have we seen throughout our existence?  Boxes, tubes, tupperware, and barrels. The list goes on. Yet only a miniature hog fulfills the necessary requirements for coin storage.

Pigs are just naturally associated with money. For instance:  Pigs are where we get the word “swindled,” and there are many pithy sayings such as “You reap what you sow” (female pig).  When I tell you that you have a choice between placing your coins in a clear glass container, or in a pagan pig idol with a slot on top, the answer becomes obvious.  Pig with a hole in it.

The pig has several advantages, not least of which is that you cannot see how much change you have accumulated. Pigs are generally opaque creatures.  You will feel safe and secure not knowing that most of the weight comes from Canadian pennies you found in the parking lot.  And if thieves happen to break into your house, everyone knows they only look in the sock drawer or in the couch cushions. Several studies have shown that ceramic pigs sitting on your dresser attract no attention whatsoever.

Piggy banks have the added benefit of not easily relinquishing what you have deposited, making them an ideal savings mechanism. What they lack in interest rate, they more than make up for in risk tolerance. I have found that the best pigs have a plug in their belly roughly the size of a dime. If you stick a quarter in the slot, you are almost guaranteed not to lose a cent on that investment.

Some people may scoff at the idea of referring to these as Piggy Banks and not Piggy Safe Deposit Boxes, but I submit to you that pigs can and do offer all the services of a bank, up to and including denying me for loans.  Most Piggy Banks also offer free checking, but they will kill you in penalties if you overdraft.

Prototype coin storage unit, patent pending

The producers want you to know that no animals were harmed during the making of this movie.

We mean it.

Look, this movie may have featured terrific explosions, collapsing skyscrapers, half the country burned to a crisp, the other half frozen over.  It also featured several actors phoning it in for an easy paycheck at the box office.  But our consciences are clear on this matter:  Animals have escaped our production completely unscathed.

Also we’d like to point out that not only the lead actress, but also the hairdresser and a few of the grips are vegetarians. The rest of us do eat meat from time to time.  White meat only, mind you.  We’re not monsters.  It’s just that they hired this chef from L.A., and he’s got these lobster rolls to die for.  And occasionally, in the editing bay, we would send out for Chinese.  But only during all-night sessions.  And apart from this, no animals were harmed in the making of this movie.

Alright, yes, okay, we did shoot some scenes in the swamp.  How else were we going to simulate total planetoid destruction by Global Warming?  The actors did swat some mosquitos.  Do those count?  If they count, then we may have swatted a few.

… Well, have you ever been to Louisiana in July?  No?  Then don’t judge. It’s open season on plasma down there.  If anything, you should scold the mosquitos.  A few errant slaps are par for the course.

Oh yeah, and the fogger.  I guess technically, that’s poisonous gas.  But the bugs were outrageous.  We were losing the light, getting eaten alive, and about to go into overtime.   Anyway, you can’t prove that a particular animal died from gas.  Maybe they were just old.

… I may have seen the director kick his dog.

I don’t know why I blurted that out.  The dog was barking, and we were trying to have a script meeting.  It just wouldn’t shut up.  It wasn’t a very hard kick.  Just enough to shame it into silence.  He was very friendly later.  His tail was wagging and he wasn’t limping.

Yes, I know about the rodent problem in Stage 12.  The cats took care of it.  The cats are not technically on our payroll.  We did not instruct them to do any killing.  We merely brought them in, neglected to feed them, then set them loose for a night.

Did I say neglected to feed them?  We did not neglect.  We had every intention of feeding them first thing in the morning, but they were already full.  No, we did not hire Animal Services to come round up the stray cats.  Animal Services is staffed by volunteers.

I know what you’re thinking, but I’m pretty sure there were no fish, ducks, or other animals in the bay when we staged the big tanker explosion.  We had a city permit.  They would have taken care of that.  I specifically remember telling the mayor to protect the wildlife during our steak dinner.

To sum up, this movie was a production of the highest integrity, and no animals were harmed at all by our actions in making this post-apocalyptic legend for the ages.  Trust us:  Would we ignore Stuntman Bob’s last wishes, especially after he gave his tragic last performance falling off that burning water tower?

He was already like that when we found him. We swear.