Hannibal Rising (2007)

Director: Peter Webber

Cast: Gaspard Ulliel, Gong Li, Rhys Ifans, Dominic West

Have I Seen it Before: Well, isn’t this a topic of some debate?

Did I Like It: There’s an understandable impulse when watching a bad movie to let one’s mind wander to how the movie could have been improved, or even, dare I say, fixed entirely. It’s probably an unfair point to jump off for a critique of a film. One normally never knows what forces cause a movie to take its eventual shape, and if given the opportunity to steer a production, we all might come to the same blunders, or likely come up with entirely new ones*.

Here, however? I’ve got nothing. After two episodes of Friendibals, we’ve bandied about jsut what went wrong between this film and its concurrent developed novel, but it is ultimately a thing that should not be. Even a story that would have focused on those years of Hannibal in practice in Baltimore would have been less weighed down by the need to explain and make pedestrian Lecter’s (Ulliel) evil, it still would have been a largely inert tale, unless someone like Bryan Fuller was around to truly turn the proceedings on their head. Ultimately, Harris probably should have stuck by his guns and not been baited by producer Dino de Laurientiis into re-entering the fray.

But, just as Harris’ novel is an casserole dish full of uncooked noodles, this film is made up of good elements which sadly never come close to a satisfying whole. Ulliel and Li are engaging in their role, but the former never quite channels Hopkins like he he might have. For some reason, I would have believed rumored contender Macaulay Culkin more, but again, that casting would have been a near-miss. The score Ilan Eshkeri and Shigeru Umebayashi references the motifs in The Silence of the Lambs (1991) without ever feeling slavish. The camerawork and production design is sumptuous and there are brief fits where the film feels like it is a venture into Lecter’s memory palace, which feels like was the whole point.

But it isn’t enough. I’m not sure what would have made it so.

*See for an example how after Jurassic World Dominion (2022), I don’t think we’re going to hear any more about how Colin Trevorrow’s Star Wars - Episode IX: The Rise of Skywalker (2019) would be any better than the film we got.

Hannibal (2001)

Director: Ridley Scott

Cast: Anthony Hopkins, Julianne Moore, Ray Liotta, Frankie R. Faison

Have I Seen it Before: Sure. I wasn’t yet 17 when the film was release, but perpetually looking about five years older than I really am, I was able to buy a ticket for myself without much scrutiny at all.

And yet, I couldn’t even begin to guess when I last saw the film. For someone who’s taken to a <Hannibal Lecter podcast> in recent months, it’s odd just how little this film has lived in my memory all these years.

Did I Like It: For the first half of the film, I was struck by how faithful an adaptation this was of the original Thomas Harris novel. I’m not certain if that’s the most thorough praise, as Harris’ third Lecter novel isn’t quite his weakest entry, but it’s far, far from his strongest.

For what it is, things could be a lot worse. Is it a satisfying successor to The Silence of the Lambs (1991)? Certainly not, but then again, neither was the novel, so Scott and company are  at least hitting their target here. Performances are all around pretty good. Moore accomplishes the unenviable task of equating herself well, while having to be either the George Lazenby or Roger Moore to Jodie Foster’s Sean Connery. An uncredited Gary Oldman disappears into his part as the non-charming monster of the piece, but one can’t help but wonder if original choice Christopher Reeve might have made the proceedings even more unsettling than they already were. Hopkins himself—the main attraction—doesn’t feel like he is trying to eliminate the need for him to reprise the role again (Red Dragon (2002), I’m looking in your direction) and keeps the hammier parts of Lecter, but just barely.

The final act of the film, however is where a bad taste is left in my mouth. It is a thorough exercise in the practice of half measures. Starling and Lecter couldn’t become lovers, sure, although with the departure of Moore, maybe they could. The eventual comeuppance of Mason Verger is a great deal more satisfying in the novel, and trying to make Starling anything other than a tragic hero in this story is a flex that the preceding two hours can’t quite support. We’ll just have to take comfort in the knowledge that we did get to see Ray Liotta eat his own brain for a little bit.

The Silence of the Lambs (1991)

Director: Jonathan Demme

Cast: Jodie Foster, Anthony Hopkins, Scott Glenn, Ted Levine

Have I Seen it Before: One doesn’t start a Hannibal Lecter (Hopkins) podcasts without coming across this one at some point in their past.

Did I Like It: Can a review of this film over thirty years after its release add anything new to the discourse about it? Probably not, aside from the need to say that whatever you remember about the film, it’s better than that memory feebly maintains.

It’s such a singular cinematic experience that our episode of Friendibals did kinda, sorta descend into an effuse-fest.

And I’m actually okay with that! The movie is that good, and stands far and ahead above any other attempt to bring the character to life, with the exception of—against all odds—the tv series Hannibal.

But after that bloom of rediscovering the film withers even slightly (it’s been several days since I screened the movie and recorded the episode), are their complaints that I can reach for?

A reflexive criticism I could see is that it, at the most basic level, implies some very not-nice things about transgender people. The film doesn’t do nearly enough (or at least as much as Thomas Harris’ novel) to make explicit that Jame Gumb’s (Levine) is a monster who thinks he is a transgender, not that trans people are akin to monsters.

That all might be forgiven, and a degree of nuance is on display here, if only the film weren’t so good that it isn’t just an extremely good way to spend two hours, but that it singlehandedly re-defined the serial killer genre through the present. We could (and I, inevitably, will) talk about the glut of Hannibal Lecter sequels and prequels we got in result to the film’s ubiquity*, but nearly every serial killer movie in the last thirty years. Just look at Instinct (1999), a movie I was only 50% certain I was remembering correctly before looking it up. Any film featuring crime of any sort absorbed the sounds, but not the language of this film. Just look at Ace Ventura: Pet Detective (1994). There’s a mean-spirited, at best, but ultimately hatefully violent myopic discourse regarding the trans community now, and while it would be exceptionally reductive to blame that all on this film, every stunted attempt by filmmakers to give their monsters more dimension for three decades might very well have done so.

If only the film weren’t so good.

*Another thing I forgot during the podcast: In the book and in Ted Tally’s screenplay, the iconic muzzle placed on Lecter was written as a hockey mask. One could imagine why that didn’t survive to the final cut.

Red Dragon (2002)

Director: Brett Ratner

Cast: Anthony Hopkins, Edward Norton, Ralph Fiennes, Harvey Kietel

Have I Seen it Before: Oh, sure. For some reason I can’t remember if I saw this or Manhunter (1986) first, but I think it might have been this one, as I saw it in the theater during my halcyon days as a high school senior, and I’m almost certain I didn’t see Manhunter until college. But who can remember anymore? My memory palace is for shit, if you’ll forgive my rudeness.

Did I Like It: No discussion of this film—as the eventual episode of Friendibals will attest—can be complete without dwelling on one topic before any others. No, it isn’t the inevitable comparisons of William Petersen vs. Edward Norton (they’re both fine; Petersen is more demonstrably mad around the edges), Ralph Fiennes vs. Tom Noonan (Fiennes feels more developed, but that might owe more to the script than anything else), Mann vs. Ratner (Mann is always stylish to the fault, so much so to the point that his films feel dated minutes after they’re released, while I don’t think Ratner has had an artistic ambition greater than calling “action” and “cut” when he’s supposed to), and ultimately Cox vs. Hopkins (the pictures for Hopkins’ obituary will inevitably include Lecter, although he feels bored and overly hammy here, whereas Cox relaxes into his evil).

While an analysis of all of these topics will give a pretty good picture of where this film lies not only against its previous adaptation, but among the rest of the Lecter series and serial killer films as a whole, the one topic that must, without a doubt be discussed is Mrs. Doubtfire (1993).  Yes, that one. The one with Pierce Brosnan*.

While going through the Leeds home, Graham (Norton) looks through a drawer of VHS tapes, before watching their home movies and staring at, but never really seeing the way he will catch the Tooth Fairy (Fiennes). Among the tapes area copy of Jaws (1975), which makes sense as it is also a Universal Release, the artwork features nothing that might run afoul of likeness rights, and most importantly, clearly something that would be available on home video “several years” after Graham runs afoul of Lecter in the film’s prologue.

But why the hell is Mrs. Doubtfire there? Are we saying this film takes place in (at the earliest) 1994? What does this say about when The Silence of the Lambs (1991) or, for that mater Hannibal (2001) take place?

I may have missed the point of the whole thing, but if I can zero in on that for most of the film’s runtime—in a series that’s main stock and trade is characters noticing things and making connection which not everyone else might—then maybe it’s the film’s—and really, Ratner’s—fault for not getting Doubtfire out of the Leeds’ house. I submit to you that, for all his journeymen level work and the cast’s impressive ability to elevate the proceedings, Brett Ratner missed the point, not I.

*Am I remembering that right? Was Pierce Brosnan in Mrs. Doubtfire. I’m almost sure he was, and I kind of don’t want to go look it up to find out.

Manhunter (1986)

Director: Michael Mann

Cast: William Petersen, Tom Noonan, Dennis Farina, Brian Cox

Have I Seen it Before: Oh, sure. For years it was a curiosity: the Hannibal Lecter movie without Anthony Hopkins. However, I think I may have only come around to it after Hopkins last turn at the role, in Red Dragon (2002).

I had intended to wait to revisit this film until COVID got a little bit better and I could share it with a friend who is a confirmed Hannibal-phile (I think they prefer to be called Fannibals), but had never seen the film. COVID still rages, and I am right on the cusp of finally catching up on my to-watch DVDs... Something had to give. Sorry, pal... I’m totally fine to watch the movie again when we’re all on the other side of this. Damn virus...

Did I Like It: Many people love this film deeply, prizing it above The Silence of the Lambs (1991). There’s a lot to love about the movie, but I ultimately think that its strengths are tied to the source material. Even Brett Ratner couldn’t screw up this story. The loose adaptation in the recent TV series is some of the best television of the last ten years. This movie has the happiest, for lack of a better term, ending of all three adaptations, and that is just part of where it suffers relative to the other versions.

Here, though, I think the worst of Mann’s instincts got the better of him. The film is so aggressively fashionable and stylized that the film has no life outside of the 1980s. From the production design all through the music choices (“In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida” anyone?) the film eschews any of the gothic trappings of the source material and is content to be just another serial killer movie with a dopey title.

Tom Noonan’s performance as Francis Dollarhyde doesn’t bring out the twisted, horrible sympathy of the character, and is just another aloof ‘80s weirdo in a movie filled to the brim with them. William Petersen’s attempt at a Will Graham is simply too histrionic in his meditations to be believable. Brian Cox, however, does bring a pugnacious irritation to Lecter (Lecktor in this film, for reasons passing any understanding) that only hints to the horrors at his core. It’s the most reserved version of the character, and the only thing to recommend it over others, not to take anything away from Hopkins or Mikkelsen.