“We begin by coveting what we see every day. Don't you feel eyes moving over your body, Clarice? And don't your eyes seek out the things you want?”
The movie establishment’s had a bit of a mixed relationship with horror—dismissing it usually more often that they accolade it, but this sure wasn’t the case 35 years ago when The Silence of the Lambs made a lot noise sweeping through the oscars. Some might quibble about the genre, saying it’s a crime thriller or something, but it has enough creepiness and monsters of various shapes to make the pass. From director Jonathan Demme came the most famous adaptation of Thomas Harris’ novels—and we’ll touch on a couple other of those…
The most iconic thing here is of course the character of Hannibal Lecter—the imprisoned serial killer with diabolical wits, serving here as a twisted take on the mentor archetype which especially back then was something different. Anthony Hopkins captured pop culture here, but before him, we had Brian Cox in the first Harris adaptation in 1986’s Manhunter. That interpretation was perhaps less quotable and well-spoken, but more realistic—a boorish schlub who can barely be bothered to even acknowledge someone in the same room, even if they perhaps do have some insights to give. It does feel a bit more true to life for such real sociopaths who tend to be a bit less slick than their movie counterparts.
Nevertheless, it can’t be denied that the performances were one big part of the success of this one—Jodie Foster of course is just as well-played as a novice FBI agent on the tail of another killer, as we see her pull out all the stops to track him down, including indulging Lecter. She manages to balance both the wide-eyed naive neophyte with eventually a far more steeled justice seeker who is very much learning on the deep end.
And of course we have to talk about the elephant in the room with her target, Buffalo Bill—whose transgender undertones got appropriated years later in unfortunate ways. The book was more emphatic that this wasn’t to do with any sense of gender identity and the movie sort of does the same, albeit in a more offhand way. Nevertheless, as the creators here have admitted, discussion of such things have come a long way since 1991, so you’ll have to be the judge of how much this affects the experience.
Besides that, the tension is still well-done throughout, like one pointed elevator moment, as is the gloomy atmosphere hanging over everything. All of these key ingredients came together in just the right way—which wasn’t necessarily the case for all of the followups.
Hannibal is a film that’s not really talked about these days, and I have seen Red Dragon which is regarded as somewhat better—that one was alright, but it missed that balancing factor Foster’s Clarice bought in compared to the others in the cast. They aimed for more Hopkins, who is always fun, but for a true classic, you can’t live on Lecter alone.
Take that for what it is over a glass of chianti…
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