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Last night my husband and I saw Girl with a Dragon Tattoo. We had listened to most of the audio books and listened to reviews, so we knew it wasn’t a feel-good kind of movie.

Apparently the father/daughter combo sitting next to us had done none of those things. They lived under a rock the week that Daniel Craig did his media blitz. They thought a movie with a score written by Trent Reznor was going to be akin to We Bought a Zoo. That’s the movie they should have seen.

So the title sequence rolls and she’s like, “that’s weird.” And not in a good, interested way.

Lisbeth Salander comes on the screen and she whispers to her dad about her mohawk and piercings.

The f-bomb is dropped and she says, aloud, “okayyyyy.” How old is this girl? She certainly looks old enough to drive at the very least. She’s never heard an f-bomb before? It’s an f-ing r-rated movie, girlfriend. But, okayyyyy.

Then Lisbeth gets the new case worker and he explains sociability, after which Lisbeth spits into the toilet. She hid her face.

Uh-oh. This is going to get ugly.

Then the happy visit to the case worker’s home. She hid her face (so did I, in truth) and said “we need to leave.”

They didn’t.

Then Lisbeth gets hers. When she kicked the dildo, I thought the girl was going to puke, pass out or both. They still stayed.

Lots of breasts. Lesbian sex, so four breasts on screen at one time with no penis in sight. Lots of air sucked out of our airspace. Dad checked his phone. She squirmed. Interesting.

Breasts again, this time after Daniel Craig shows some asscrack. A woman as sexual aggressor. Serious discomfort in the seats next to me.

More breasts, torture photos, incest descriptions.

Their pronouncement on the way out: “Worst movie ever.” They forgot to add–for a father and teenage daughter to see together.

But you sat for three hours to watch it (even after your gigantic tub of popcorn was gone–diet, my ass) and I didn’t see a single phone light up to text (with the exception of the dad’s phone during the lesbian scene). And in today’s world, that’s saying something.

Guess I won’t recommend the Swedish version.

Wonder what their ride home was like?