Girl With The Dragon Tattoo
Dir: David Fincher - Starring: Daniel Craig, Rooney Mara, Christopher Plummer

American remakes of good European films do not enjoy a high reputation. I struggle to think of one that is an improvement. Until now. Some may disagree, but I think David Fincher's take on Stieg Larsson's book blows the Swedish (made-for television) film out of the water.

I'm assuming by now that anyone interested will probably be familiar with the plot (which upon second viewing comes into focus as one massive red herring). So why do I find this version so superior? Small things first: the supporting cast – Stellan Skarsgard, Robin Wright, the magnificent Christopher Plummer – are better. The cinematography and music are stunning and, as they should, provide extra layers of tension and complexity to the story. And the story itself is better told, giving more weight to certain areas and better integrating the two central characters.

But, most of all, Rooney Mara is a different, more believable Lisbeth Salander (the eponymous 'heroine”). Noomi Rapace was stunning in the Swedish film but her character was in danger of slipping into cartoon territory, almost a wish-fulfilment creation. Mara is more damaged and more real.

It's a brilliant film. And I haven't even mentioned the credit sequence. Since Se7en, Fincher has been known for his openings and this one is a stunner, coming on – ironically given Daniel Craig's presence – like Bond credits on acid. Prepare to be amazed.

The opening jokey history lesson, à la L.A. Confidential, along with similarly ironic intertitles, makes Staten Island hard to figure tonally - is it a crime drama or a deadpan comedy? Vincent D'Onofrio's ambitious minor mob boss lives with his mother and is trying to break the world record for breathing underwater; Ethan Hawkes' dumb septic tank cleaner wants a baby, preferably a genetically-modified one; and Seymour Cassel's delightful old deaf mute deli-owner wants to free his business from mobsters. It's a classy quirky piece, told as three separate interconnecting stories which eventually collide - very unpredictable and oddly likeable.

In Route Irish the war in Iraq moves to the mean street of Liverpool. Security contractor Fergus has returned home for the funeral of best friend Frankie, killed on the deadly titular stretch of road between Baghdad airport and the Green Zone. But, as Fergus questions official accounts of the killing and his suspicions deepen, dark forces emerge to stop him. A contender for the Palm D'Or at Cannes, this blending of director Ken Loach's signature social realism with a satisfyingly complex thriller plot leaves a vivid impression of the flawed but very human lives damaged by aftershocks of war.

The signs were good: an R18 warning for horror, violence, sex scenes and offensive language; cover quotes that said 'bizarre” and 'destined for cult-dom”. So what happened to Bad Meat? Plotwise, teen delinquents are sent to the isolated Hardway Camp where the abusive councillors are rejects from some killer hillbilly flick. Then the staff get a food poisoning virus (hence the title) and it all gets yucky, in a badly made low budget way. The final half hour is a mess of badly orchestrated blood, vomit and flesh-eating. This is actually 10 minutes shorter than the cover advertises – perhaps they cut out the good bits…

Point Blank is a fantastic French thriller, one stripped down to the bone, becoming an almost continual tense chase. Director Fred Cavayé previously made Anything For Her (remade in America as The Next Three Days, but the original is significantly better) and here he refines his storytelling even further. A male nurse treats a thief only to have the patient's henchmen kidnap his pregnant wife and demand he free their boss. A race through Paris, avoiding crims, crooked cops and much else ensues. It's adrenaline-fuelled, seat of the pants stuff – see it now before the American version (unless it's made by David Fincher).