Films/DVD Asylum

Posted by bill mcneal on February 13, 2001 at 21:23:47:

Warning: spoilers galore ahead, both for movie and book.

I for one think highly of Ridley Scott's take on Hannibal.

For starters I admire the cinematography. The Florence scenes particularly provide a disquieting sense of massive, implacable darkness lurking within the architectural splendor. (Hannibal certainly seems right at home.) The buildings, interior and exterior, seem to have been brooding for a very long time. In much the fashion that Visconti's views of Venice in Death in Venice
evince a feeling of coruption and disease, Scott's Florence gives his film a real backbone, a convincing feel of the historical struggle of good & evil.

Hannibal's pacing feels just about perfect to me. Where the filmed Silence of the Lambs placed a premium on tried & true thriller technique (the basement scene, the warehouse scene, for instance), Hannibal opts for a more leisurely approach. The scene in which Lecter is stalked by a small-time pickpocket is played rather delicately, almost as a ballet in comparison.

The gore issue allows some of our more trite reviewers something with which to pad out their thoughtless columns, but again I feel Scott has hit just the right note in dealing with material which could have ruined the movie's dramatic flow. I confess that I was one who thought, upon reading Harris' novel, that it was probably unfilmable. Scott has proved me wrong. (Actually, I would have liked to see the book's version of the table clean-up at the end. In the book Hannibal scrapes the dishes into the skull of the "donor", then unceremoniously plops the skullcap back on. I thought this expessed Lecter's contempt better than the movie, where he tosses a dishrag onto the brain remains instead.)

In any case, there was a good year's buildup of the film's Grand-Guignol qualities. Going to see something you know is not for the squeamish and then squeaming is pointless.

Silence of the Lambs conveyed an unforgettable wallop in its presentation of Lecter. Much of this power derives from the simple fact that there's not too much Hannibal in the film. What you get is a condensed, iconic portrayal of a creature whose rage is contained only by the most desparate means: the glass-walled cell seven stories down, the mask & restraints on the handtruck, the dramatic cage from which Hannibal escapes. Hannibal, both book and movie, work to explore this character more thoroughly. The obvious loss in impact ought to be countered by a depth of understanding if either work is to be adjudged a success.

Though much of Hannibal's plot transfers intact from book to film, a crucial character has been excised from the film: Hannibal's sister. In Harris' novel, Lecter sees Clarice as the vehicle for bringing back his dead sister. This is a primary motivation and the filmmakers' decision to forego it is obviously a conscious choice. In fact I believe it explains why the film's ending differs from the book. Unbelievably, of the dozen or so reviews I've read, none points out the omission of Hannibal's sister. Several mention the omission of Mason's sister, who is simply a minor character. I suppose the reviewers were too busy trying to hone their Saturday-Night-Live-level witticisms to pay much attention to the main character's motivation.

I'm not much at arithmetic, but Harris' account of Lecter's mathematical meanderings, trying to establish a basis for the reversal of time and thus the possibility of resurrecting his sister, struck me as the author way overplaying his hand. This bit of business is the flimsiest part of the novel. Still, Lecter's interest in Clarice is based on this identification in the book. The film asks us to consider a different reason for the good doctor's fascination with the lady detective. In my opinion the movie is ultimately defined by this relationship.

It seems to me that Lecter finds Clarice in possession of a quality which he lacks, but feels that he possesses a quality she lacks. Both characters have experienced some of life's worst treatment. But they respond in different, and defining ways. Lecter could never put up with the abuse from "superiors" that Starling can somehow tolerate. Hannibal's response to such "free-range rude" creatures is essentially childish. He kills them and eats them. His vast intelligence and wit provide an endless source for his expression of whimsy, which as Clarice points out, is what got him caught the first time. Clarice is, by way of contrast, stoic, yet unswerving in her attempts to do the right thing. Is Lecter somehow drawn to value this quality of forbearance in Clarice? Or is he trying to show her that his way is right and proper?

There's a moment near the end of the movie when Clarice woozily attempts to stab Lecter. He parries the thrust and tells her "That's my girl." (I dearly hope I am remembering this part correctly.) Is Hannibal congratulating her on becoming more like him (violent), or alluding to her steadfastness in adhering to her police principles?

To some extent it's the age-old conflict between the adolescent and the adult, the rebel vs. the pragmatist. For me it is the central issue in the relationship, and I'd love to see it explored in a sequel.

The book's ending take on the relationship (Clarice is drugged & hypnotized & put through some extreme psychodrama by Hannibal, and becomes his lover) outraged many readers. It's not the kind of thing that is done in suspense thrillers. Yet it seemed to me at the time that there was ample room for a sequel here as well, perhaps resurrecting the Will character from Red Dragon or giving Clarice's roommate a prominent role in her "rescue". I don't know whether Harris envisions a sequel or not. I understand the filmmakers do ( I'd imagine the opening weekend numbers will probably fortify their resolve). I look forward to a sequel from either side.

Some by-the-ways: the acting is of the highest possible character throughout. If there's a better actor than Hopkins I don't know his name. While it's too bad Jodie Foster passed on this, Julianna Moore presents a woman with a scarred heart and soul who's resourceful and determined - a terrific performance. The guy who plays the Florence cop is wonderful, a beautiful loser. Tony Liota (?) does a well-measured turn as Clarice's tormentor.

And Hopkins' "Okey-dokey" is just hilarious.