First things first: this isnt the middle-aged, reptilian Hannibal Lecter you know from Sir Anthony Hopkins portrayal in the increasingly shoddy film franchise. Its certainly not Brian Cox brusquely avuncular Dr. Lector of Manhunter, the far superior first attempt at adapting Thomas Harris Red Dragon to the big screen. Mads Mikkelsens Lecter, the antagonist of Bryan Fullers cerebral, arty TV series Hannibal is a leading forensic psychiatrist, an impeccably dressed bon vivant, a thoughtful, sober bachelor, a connoisseur of fine dining and a patron of the arts. Hes also what the FBI and the media have come to know as the Chesapeake Ripper, a sadistic, highly theatrical serial killer at large in the Midwestern United States: when he finds himself recommended by a colleague to assist in the investigation of his own crimes and the crimes of others, he begins to interpolate into matters. While theres an element of self-preservation in his interference in the FBIs investigation, Lecter is mostly concerned with satisfying his intellectual curiosity and amusing himself, artistically of course. Hes a satanic figure, capable of skewing the sanctity of his profession to warp the minds of his patients, carefully constructing new identities for them but he meets his match, almost literally, with Will Graham, the unstable empathetic wunderkind tasked with tracking him down. Hannibal despises the rude, the coarse and the banal, considering most of humanity to be inferior to him: to be like pigs, hence his removal and consumption of body parts from his victims. Will Graham is one of very few exceptions, a man nearly his intellectual equal whose peculiar gifts make him the perfect guinea pig for Hannibals experiments that is, if he can stay alive and out of captivity long enough to see the results Its a testament to Hannibals genius that he does so. When Graham finally convinces his boss Jack Crawford that Hannibal is the Chesapeake Ripper, theres no other evidence in play aside from Grahams vaunted intuition. They cant arrest Lecter, and so matters play out exactly as the doctor intends: in a hail of blood and recrimination, he escapes overseas under a new identity, and resumes his two-decade-old role as Il Mostro: The Monster Of Florence.
Professional writer, punk werewolf and nesting place for starfish. Obsessed with squid, spirals and story. I publish short weird fiction online at desincarne.com, and tweet nonsense under the name Jack The Bodiless. You can follow me all you like, just don't touch my stuff.
