Ridley Scott, director of
Alien, brings us this sequel to the phenomenally praised and acclaimed
Silence of the Lambs, taking the directorial chores from Jonathan Demme (who won an Academy Award for
Silence) and bringing us, well, a different movie all together. In addition to a new director,
Hannibal also features a major change in a leading role, as FBI agent Clarice Starling is now played by Julianne Moore as opposed to Jodie Foster, who won a certain statuette of a naked bald man for her portrayal of the Southern-girl-next-door-turned-FBI-agent back in ‘91. Hmmmm, the last ten years have obviously been good to Miss Starling, as she's far more attractive than when she first matched minds with the doctor...
Speaking of Hannibal the Cannibal, never fear kids, because Anthony Hopkins returns to his character, which he also won an Oscar for back in '91. Does Hannibal match up to Silence of the Lambs, perhaps even surpass it? Then again, maybe it just bombs out like 90% of the sequels in history... though by those four cheerful faces at the top of the review, I guess it kinda gave away what I think...
Our film opens in the home of wealthy crippled muppet man Mason Verger (Gary Oldman in a LOT of presumably uncomfortable makeup), who has a fixation on Dr. Hannibal Lecter, the man responsible for his mangled face and crippled body. But, more on that little story later. Our opening witnesses Verger and he chats with Barney, the rent-a-cop that looked over Hannibal for 6 years before the doctor's escape at the end of our previous film. Barn tells the wheelchair-bound freak stories of his experiences looking after the psycho psychiatrist, especially about Clarice's stint with Lecter. He then presents the living Picasso with a piece of Hannibal memorabilia: his anti-cannibalism mask used to keep him from getting at people's throats. Mr. Verger proceeds to wet himself with ecstasy before shelling out Barney's asking price of $250,000... after Todd McFarlane dished out $3 million for Mark McGwire's 70th homerun ball, you'd think that something from a notorious serial killer, especially his trademark mask, would garner at least $1.8 million! Oh well, I guess serial killer stuff just isn't as popular as it was back in the Manson days.
From this happy scene we head to Washington D.C., where Hannibal's object of affection, Clarice Starling, is up to the usual business: taking down a drug queen and her posse of heavily armed, African-American men. What was supposed to be a simple little operation turns into a public shootout and Clarice is forced to gun the woman down, narrowly missing the broad's baby, who's strapped to her chest as a human shield. I think it's the washing of the mother's blood off the baby that really gets to her head though... women are so whiny when it comes to endangering kids!
The Bureau's higher-ups get on Miss Starling's ass for the incident, not only for opening fire with an innocent baby in the way, but also for the death of a D.C. "I've got all the answers and ain't takin' orders from no dame" officer, who fucked up the whole operation in the first place and deserved to get his torso hollowed out. But, they pay no attention to the good that Clarice has done and decide to pick on her for the ordeal, since she was in charge. Lucky for Clarice though, that Mason happens to be a big fan of her's, seeing as how she's obviously the love of Hannibal's life. So, using his power and influence (i.e. his billions of dollars) the mutant has the incident covered up as clean as possible. But, Clarice is put back on the Lecter case, Mason's personal bounty hunter in exchange for her life becoming a lot easier. For starters, she heads to Verger's estate to discuss any leads the rich mutant may have on Hannibal. But first Verger insists on telling her all about why he's so obsessed with the mad doctor Lecter, which, as you can imagine, is NOT a Cinderella story... unless it was written by Marilyn Manson of course. For those of you offended by homosexuals, pedophiles, or people hacking their faces, then I suggest you skip to the next paragraph... then again, if people hacking their faces off is your only problem, then maybe you should just leave this site entirely!
Mason's tale goes back to his childhood, as a whimpering little rich kid at summer camp, he was one of those lads who would "do anything for a candy bar" as he puts it, including going for his merit badge in deep-throating the counselors. You can imagine this kind of abuse really fucked up young Mason's head (literally), as it later resulted in his own pedophile activities as he became an adult. He was caught and put on trial, found guilty and assigned to none other than Doctor of Psychiatry Hannibal Lecter as part of his rehabilitation... this is gonna end VERY messy... Like many abused pedophiles, Mason took a liking to his older and brutal doctor, inviting him over one night while dressed in his best "skanky man whore" outfit, Verger was looking for a little "hotdog in the brown-eye" action. As Verger told Lecter all about the fun and amusement of autoerotic asphyxiation (cutting off your air supply to make sex more intense) and shows him his wonderful new fucking noose, Hannibal offered the misguided ass pirate some "poppers": airborne stimulants "popped" from little vials, not unlike smelling salts. Always happy to get hopped up on goofballs, Mason accepted, and before you know it, he's swinging back and forth from his noose, carefree and being strangled at the same time, until Lecter suggested the pervert take a chard of broken mirror and peel off his face, feeding it to the Verger pooches afterwards... Lecter is quite brutal in his "social reform" methods... a lunatic after my own blackened heart!
As you can imagine, Mason survived the incident, Hannibal's fourth victim and the only one to walk away... or in this case, roll away in a wheel chair (courtesy of the damage done his spinal cord by the self-lynching), forced to live the rest of his pathetic life with the patchwork visage of a melted creation from Jim Henson's Creature Shop... boo-friggin'-hoo, I'm sure he sleeps comfortably on his mattresses stuffed with money, being waited on hand and foot by his servants and hold government officials in the palm of his shriveled hands... we should all be so lucky and deformed! Anyway, after telling his little bedtime story to Clarice, he coughs up an X-Ray sent to him from Buenos Aires, supposedly of Hannibal Lecter's left arm. To verify this, she heads to the epicenter of Hannibal the Cannibal merchandise: Barney's apartment. Here she chats a little with Barney about the doctor and the reasons for his mania, why he attacked people and thoughts about Clarice's conversations with him. She picks up an X-Ray of Lecter's broken arm (taken following his attack on a nurse and the beating he took from the guards following it) that Barney owns, as well as audio tapes taken of her conversations with Hannibal back in Silence. Amongst the deleted scenes on the DVD is the one following this, where Starling takes the two X-Rays to a specialist to verify the validity of them and if they belong to the same person. The X-Ray guy verifies it, but says that the one from Buenos Aires was taken BEFORE the one from the hospital... I think this is meant to tell us that Lecter's NOT in Buenos Aires or something, but since this scene is cut out anyway, we're left to ponder what the fucking purpose of the X-Ray is on our own... I hate loose ends and pointless plot devices.
While Agent Starling shuffles through her files on Hannibal, we frolic across the Atlantic, to Florence Italy, where we discover Dr. Lecter is chilling under his new moniker of Dr. Pell, candidate for the new curatorship of the Florence Library, since the previous man who held the office has gone missing... could it be the doctor had a hand in that? I don't believe in coincidences, or cow's who can drive bulldozers for that matter. The man in charge of the man's disappearance is Inspector Pazzi (pronounced "Potsi", like the dynamic character from 'Happy Days'), whom Dr. Pell takes a great interest in and who is also going to make a very large mistake later on. As for Clarice, back in the U.S., she receives a letter from Lecter, elegantly written and meant to play with her head as always, as Hannibal mentions his observation that he's been put back on the FBI's Top Ten Most Wanted List, warranting him to question if his case has been reopened and if Miss Starling's been assigned to it. He also berates her white trash roots as usual, and makes it so apparent he's obsessed with her skinny white ass. Unable to find any viable markings as to indicate where the latter came from, Clarice hands the love note over to a team of human bloodhounds, who take turns sniffing the paper and devise the ingredients used in the hand cream of the man who wrote it. Right away they know it didn't come from the states, as it contains ingredients that are illegal to the cosmetics industry in our nation. It's not illegal worldwide or anything though, and they compile a list of places that can put together an individual order like this one... Hannibal's eccentricities will be his undoing.
After getting the list of stores, Clarice sends out requests to see security videos from those stores in the hopes of catching the elusive man eater on one of them. Her tape in Florence is intercepted by Pazzi, who takes interest in such an odd request. When he examines the FBI's most wanted webpage, he finds none other than Hannibal Lecter, a.k.a. Dr. Pell... and he's up there with Osama Bin Laden... after September 11th, that seems really disproportioned...
Lured by the $3 million reward (so he can outbid McFarlane for the Barry Bonds ball this time), the Inspector decides to go after the madman himself. No long will "pulling a Pazzi" be a 'Happy Days' reference, as this guy definitely takes the booby prize for bad ideas. Meanwhile, Starling's job is only made all the more harder in America, thanx to the nosy interference of Bureau muckity-muck Paul Krendler (Goodefella Ray Liotta), a chauvinistic prick who's more interested in dominating Clarice and slithering into her cargo pants than he is with the actual tasks at hand, not unlike everybody in Congress. Well, except for Hillary, who's not interested in the sex part... GAH! BAD THOUGHTS! BAD THOUGHTS! Calm blue ocean, calm blue ocean, calm blue ocean... okay, I'm better now.
Back to Florence, despite all his trickery and parlor games (including a stunt that ends very painfully and fatally for a local pickpocket), Dr. Lecter knows what's going on, you can tell by the way he notices the little fidgety actions and uncomfortable mannerisms Pazzi makes. Animals smell fear, and Hannibal Lecter is the most dangerous animal: man. I've always wanted to say such an ominous and thought provoking statement! Almost makes the site seem classy in a whole new light...
Pazzi contacts Verger about the reward, and the obsessive sideshow attraction sends some of his finest goons, namely a couple of dirty dagos who think they're in the Mafia or something. Before Pazzi can lead the thugs to their target, he receives a call from Agent Starling, who figured out his plan via the FBI website's use login profiles... little tip for hackers and computer scammers: if you want to keep your identity secret, don't access potentially controversial stuff from your home computer. Clarice's warnings of trying to capture the madman fall on deaf ears of course, as Pazzi is set on that $3 million that Mason's put up as reward money and his disregard for the wise words of a woman who's dealt with Lecter turn out to be his downfall. When he finds himself alone with "Dr. Pell", the Inspector finds himself careening from a 4th story window, lynched by an extension cord with his major organs making a rare public appearance on the Florence sidewalk and a Japanese tour group watching on in amusement. If Julianne Moore gives me advice, remind me to take it. As for Verder's guidos, one of them ends up with a slashed throat while his brother is left alive to report the bad news to Mason. Now that Lecter's slipped through his gangly fingers again, Mr. Verger needs something to lure him back into his trap. Who better to bait that trap with than Clarice Starling, right? In the hopes that Hannibal will pay Starling a visit when he finds her in trouble, Mason pays off Krendler to set up Clarice with false evidence, putting her back in trouble with her superiors. The result is a temporary suspension for our heroine, until they can figure out if Starling's really guilty of withholding evidence or if it's indeed a nefarious plot by Agent Krendler as she says... either way, I love that word nefarious!
Sure enough, Dr. Lecter pays Clarice a visit as she sleeps and when she wakes up she finds her old admirer has set up a little game of hide-and-seek for her. Calculating every little move she'll make, Lecter stays two steps ahead in the little Snipe hunt. Meanwhile, Clarice is under the surveillance of Verger's thugs, though both Starling and Lecter know it... then again, knowing you're being followed and preventing your own kidnapping are two different matters all together, as the doctor finds out when the other henchmen waiting in the big black van jump him and taser his ass stupid! Tossing him in, the bad guys pound him into unconsciousness and drug him up, sedating him until they can take him back to Verger's estate for a dinner date with some rather large livestock. Just missing the incident, Clarice calls for her FBI friends to check out Mason's place (sounds like a bad CBS sitcom), where they find no evidence of any wrong doing. That's no surprise since the goons are laying low until they get the go-ahead to return home. Being the gung-ho women's libber she is, our pillar of independent feminine strength breaks onto Mason's property on her own... though I don't think leaving your headlights on when you're driving across an open field you're not supposed to be on is a very good method of "staying inconspicuous". Also, Mr. Verger might want to think about securing his property with a little more than an old rusty gate and a chain and padlock. He's rich, he's really doesn't need to be so cheap.
As Clarice makes her way into enemy territory, Mason's men prepare Hannibal for the evening's feast. Lecter won't be eating of course, rather he's intended to be the EATEN, fed to a posse of man eating pigs, all bigger than my old Ford Escort! The first course for the oinkers will be the doctor's feet, which they'll chew off like a collection of jagged and rusty machetes through a tub of I Can't Believe It's Not Butter. After Lecter's had several hours to suffer, the pigs will get their main course: everything else. Before the mutant Porkys can be unleashed, Clarice makes her position known, capping the mooks in charge of "the Cannibal", freeing the madman and getting a bullet in her left tit for the trouble. Fading to black, Clarice passes out and Hannibal carries her off to safety, though not before he convinces Mason's butler Cordell to drop the freakish Mr. Verger into the pig pen, meeting his end at the hungry tusks of the mini-Razorbacks. Another lesson to learn kids: never piss off the servants. Whether they make your food or wash your naked, mutated, crippled body, you don't want to get on their bad side, because when they grow balls they grow 'em big! Especially Cordell, who can blame the whole sorted affair on Hannibal Lecter and get away scott free.
When Clarice finally regains consciousness, she finds herself in bed at Krendler's lakeside summer home, patched up, drugged out of her mind and elegantly dressed in a black dress with the lowest neckline this side of the infamous "Jennifer Lopez whores herself at that awards show, whatever it was". No offense to Lecter for his choice of evening wear for the lady, but you need some full and luscious melon boobs to fill that dress, and Clarice Starling's definitely not that type. Somebody get that babe a Wonder Bra. Despite her Morphine induced, living dead coma state, Starling manages to phone in to the cops and mumble out some kind of request for back up. Afterwards she stumbles downstairs and into the dinning room, where she finds that asshole Krendler sitting at the head of the table with Dr. Lecter preparing dinner. And, to show he's really a perfect gentleman, Krendler's removed his hat at the dinner table.
Actually, to be more precisely, Lecter removed his hat. Actually, to be even more precise, Hannibal removed the entire top of the dickhead's skull, exposing his gooey gray matter... finally, Ray Liotta in the position I've always imagined him in!
Starling's just gotta keep the mad chef busy for another 10 minutes until the fuzz show up, and keep Krendler alive, despite how much of an ass he is. As for the doctor, he continues with his dinner plans, blocking every pathetic attempt Clarice makes at striking him, whether with wine bottle or what have you, intent on making his main course: Frontal Lobe Be La Paulie. Mmmmm, now that's good eatin'!
Starling manages enough sensory perception and motor skills that she finally gets to Lecter, handcuffing herself to him after he's trapped her hair in the fridge and busted off the handle. Now, with time waning and very few options, Lecter demands that Clarice yield and give him the key, picking up a meat clever to emphasis his point. Like a trapped fox desperate to keep his freedom, the doctor proceeds to chop off his own hand at the wrist, as opposed to mauling the woman he loves. The villain escapes the property, moments before the authorities finally arrive, only to find their prey eluding them yet again. Before we end our cinematic experience in psychological Twister and big budget cannibalism though, we have to check in with everyone's favorite psychiatrist, meeting back up with him aboard a plan, headed for no one knows where. Striking up a conversation with a young Asian boy, the kid questions the homicidal lunatic with the PhD about the box lunch he's brought on the flight. Not a fan of airplane food himself, the boy asks to sample some of Hannibal's leftovers, which he gladly shovels into the kid's mouth... and if I have to tell you what those leftovers are, then I suggest you get your head out of your rectal chasm and start paying attention, because my reviews aren't exactly subtle Junior.
Hannibal is a good movie. Slick and stylish with a fair amount of action and visceral tones, Ridley Scott delivers. However, Hannibal is NOT a sequel to Silence of the Lambs, as least not in the atmospheric sense. Silence was heavy with the stuff, so much atmosphere and psychological horror and perversion that you could choke Alfred Hitchcock's fat throat with it. Ridley probably realized that it'd be almost impossible to surpass the former flick on the elements that MADE it, so he went with the alternate root. Don't think that the man can't do suspense and atmosphere, because I'll stick a copy of Alien down your throat if you do. Some would condemn Hannibal for being too "Hollywood", casting a more beautiful woman in a role that was originally founded by a very plain one and turning up the pace and kinetic images of the entire film a few levels. These nay-sayers could also use the arguments that the humor of the film wasn't exactly subtle and that the scene with Ray Liotta's exposed brain was definitely for laughs and intentional disgust, ruining any undertones the film might have been trying to establish until then. To these people I say little, because I'm not going to bother trying to convince them otherwise. Hannibal and Silence of the Lambs are like apples and oranges: both have their own unique characteristics and can be considered two very different items, but they also share one trait: they're both sweet and leave me with a good taste in my mouth. I liked Scott's directing, I liked all the actors, especially Hopkins and Oldman, and I thought it all worked well, despite a minor bump or two. My only real disdain for the movie? The advertising campaign. "The Silence Will Be Broken"?! That's WAY too cheesy when you're trying to sell a follow up to one of the darkest and most emotionally scarring films in the history of dark and emotionally scarring films...
The Moral of the Story: If you're afraid you can't live up to someone else's work, but you still wanna make a sequel anyway, go for the complete opposite effect and you might just luck out.
DVD X-tras: This double-disc DVD features a decent amount of material. On the first disc we have the feature, along with a commentary track by the director himself, Ridley Scott. This can either be viewed from beginning-to-end, or by subject matter with the additional menu. There are also a couple of trailers: one for the
Silence of the Lambs special edition DVD and one for
The Windtalkers. Disc 2 has all the goodies though, boasting the 76 minute "making of" featurette documentary "Breaking the Silence: The Making of
Hannibal"; multi-optional vignettes that show us all the different elements that went into making the "fish market" shoot 'em up scene, complete with optional commentary from Scott; also a multi-optioned set-up of the opening sequence; alternate and deleted scenes and an alternate ending (that carries NO impact in comparison to the finished product), all with optional commentary from Ridley; theatrical trailers and something like 30(!) TV spots; a shit load of cool poster designs; a mess of still photos from the cast and behind-the-scenes; extensive cast & crew bios (Anthony Hopkins didn't become a US citizen until 2001!); and finally, many many production notes. A LOT of extras, though not exactly great extras.
Sequel To:Manhunter and The Silence of the Lambs
Sequel:Red Dragon
H.O.P.E.L.E.S.S. Rating: 
- Not a bad party movie. There's some action, there's flesh eating pigs, there's a guy who looks like a deformed muppet and we get to see Ray Liotta's brains served up for stir fry. What's not to like?
If You Liked This Flick, Check Out: Se7en or
Copycat
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