Story. I mean, aren’t films supposed to have one? This isn’t like MI2 where the story was just crap, there literally is no plot to this film. Silence of the Lambs was a police procedural thriller. We must catch Killer X. Clues, developments, we get to see the FBI working towards a conclusion, and we’re pulled along with them. In Hannibal, you get 2 hours of Anthony Hopkins creeping about while various people make pathetic attempts to catch him. The entire opening hour, set in Florence, has no bearing at all on the rest of the film. None. It’s discarded halfway through. The same thing happens with the Mason Verger revenge “plot”. And as a result, the film is arse-achingly dull. Because there’s no linear progression. In theory, this film could go on forever, because there’s no story, no conflict to bring to a conclusion.
Characters. Having seen it, I now understand why Jodie Foster wanted nothing to do with it. I’m surprised Julianne Moore did. In this film, Clarice Starling is reduced to a cameo for almost two thirds of the film. She is portrayed as the typical Tough Lady Cop. She holds the record for Most Kills By A Female Agent. Honestly. None of the vulnerability, subtlety or emotion of Silence of the Lambs. A cardboard cutout. Because of the change of actress, and the poorly written character, you never believe that this is the same Agent Starling who caught Buffalo Bill. Thus, the entire “relationship” between Lecter and Starling is pissed up the wall.
Anthony Hopkins. I mean, bless him. National Treasure and all. But this film sees him turn Hannibal Lecter from a genuinely unnerving human monster, into a well spoken, opera loving Freddy Kruger. They’ve broken the key rule of monster-making – keep them in the shadows. In Lambs, he was so scary because he didn’t move. He just stood there, and with his voice alone put the fear of God into poor Clarice. And when he did burst into action at the end, the contrast was shocking – like seeing a cobra strike out of nowhere. It was his potential for savagery that captivated you. In this film, Hannibal wanders around Italy, has coffee, he’s even got a nice job. And he kills loads of people. In a variety of gory ways, while making “Hannibal-esque” comments. The thinking seems to be that, as people loved Hopkins role in Silence of the Lambs, therefore they’ll really love a film that’s just two hours of his stand-up Lecter routine. Get rid of all that Oscar winning shite that made Lambs such a chore to watch, and turn it into The Hannibal Lecter Show. No mystery, no subtlety, no depth. This is nothing more than a crude slasher movie for posh people. Which leads us nicely on to...
It’s pretentious. Incredibly, stupefyingly up it’s own flabby arse. It’s Ridley Scott, for fucks sake. Give him a tight script with a straight story and his visual flourishes can create something fantastic (Alien – a stylish but basic monster movie, Blade Runner – a stylish but basic noir detective story, Gladiator – a stylish but basic revenge story). But here, he drowns in lingering shots that are so obviously MEANINGFUL and CLEVER, without ever actually meaning anything. Lots of backlit statues. Close ups of old paintings. Latin phrases. Gosh, it must all mean something. It looks very nice, but all this fluff is there to make Joe Public munching his popcorn think he’s seeing something that’s too deep for him to really understand, but don’t worry – there’ll be another murder in a minute. Bollocks. It’s a smokescreen, with cod psychology and lurid, unneccesary details papering over the cracks. And it also bumps up the running time by another mind-numbing 30 minutes or so.
The FBI. In Lambs, the inner workings of the FBI were convincing. We rooted for Starling as she entered this male world. That shot of her in the lift, surrounded by men? That one split-second has more depth and character development than the whole of Hannibal. Instead of Jack Crawford (whose relationship with Starling mirrored Lecter’s – part mentor, part suitor, part surrogate father – stop me if I’m getting too Sight & Sound here…) we have some so obviously “nasty” bosses that they might as well wear capes and twirl their moustaches. They victimise Starling for no other reason than it creates the illusion of drama. You get no sense of the FBI itself, just Ray Liotta as a sleazy, misogynist who serves no purpose other than to be A BAD GUY – because, obviously, we can’t have Hannibal as a villain. We like Hannibal.
The whole Mason Verger bit. Firstly, man-eating pigs? WHAT? I mean, if there was ever a B-Movie plot device, then this is it. No matter how hard they try to make pigs look scary, it still just looks funny. They’re fucking PIGS! Yes, I know that real bad-ass pigs are dangerous. They just don’t look it. Secondly, the Mason Verger revenge plot is so ludicrous, so stupid and so obviously dropped in there to try and add some structure to this flaccid mess, that the film turns into a bizarre farce everytime this “sub plot” bubbles up to the surface, like a bath fart. For one, Mason Verger is yet another of Thomas Harris’ evil homosexual predators. He’s gay, therefore he’s a paedophile and is into degrading sex. Gay = Twisted and Dangerous. Very grown up. Secondly, despite being incredibly wealthy, Verger’s trap is sprung by his henchmen – a posse of Italian peasants, in shellsuits. They raise his pigs, they catch notorious serial killers for him. Why? Er…they just do. And, amazingly, they do catch Lecter. Despite 10 years of effort by the FBI, it takes the Italian peasants only a few days to find and catch him. Aha, you think, he’s let himself be caught and he’ll turn on them later. Nope. They got him. It’s like Dracula being caught by accidentally opening the curtains in the morning. And finally, this entire story thread is dropped abruptly to make way for the most bizarre and painfully stupid final act in the history of cinema.
The Violence. Now, I’m not a wallflower when it comes to on-screen splatter. I love Day of the Dead, I love Braindead. I love horror movies, and I love gore movies. But there are things in this film that, had Tarantino or Cronenberg for instance, put in a film – the Daily Mail would be up in arms, the film would be locked away at the BBFC while they argued over what to do about it. This film shows some of the vilest, most grisly torture and murder I’ve ever seen. In a way, I almost respect Ridley Scott for getting away with it. Intestines splatter on the floor, a man gets stabbed in the cock and pumps blood all over himself, Mason Verger’s half-face is horrifically real, and the final reel – which I won’t spoil, but I’m guessing you’ve read the book – features one of the characters having the top of his skull removed, his brain sliced up, cooked and fed back to him. Not implied, not done off camera. There it is, in widescreen, no cutaways – like Ready, Steady, Cook. I’m not a prude by any means, but it’s revolting – even more so because the whole film before it is so pointless. There’s no build up, no sense that this is the logical conclusion to any sort of story. The audience were shuffling, not in that “ooh, that’s horrible” horror movie way, but in a real “jesus, that’s fucking sick” way. Now, I don’t have a problem with the gore so much as I have a problem with why it was there. Compare the body count and splatter of Hannibal to the relatively bloodless Silence of the Lambs. One is a subtle, intelligent thriller that sticks in your mind because of great performances, and the unsettling questions it leaves you with. The other is a cheap horror show, that sticks in your mind as the film that showed you a man being fed his own brains, with the top of his skull removed. It’s a cheap stunt, and that just about sums up the whole sorry affair.
Words that sprang to mind while watching Hannibal: tedious, meandering, pointless, grotesque, cartoon-like, sick, dull, melodramatic, silly, what time is it? I wonder what’s on Sky Movies tonight? Can I still sneak in and see Almost Famous? Is anything going to happen soon? Why has it turned into a comedy, or is that just me? And so on…
Everything else about it. It’s just a mess. Slow, boring, with no characters to root for. There’s zero story, just a series of events. It’s unconvincing – despite being on the FBI’s 10 Most Wanted list, Hannibal quite happily hops on planes around the world – even when the FBI are right on his tail and he's chopped his own hand off, people leave their front door unlocked, cops who are terrified that Lecter is after them forget their guns before going to meet him and so on…
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