Pop Culture

Hannibal

HANNIBAL'S HUNGRY FOR MORE

Canberra Sunday Times, 11 February 2001

When "The Silence of the Lambs" was released in 1991, a distinguished, 53-year-old British actor named Anthony Hopkins suddenly became a major Hollywood star by playing one of the most hideous characters in cinema history: a mass murderer who would eat his victims' livers or tear their faces from their skulls. Somehow, Hopkins played this monster with such suave precision that he seemed almost charming.

Ten years on, a sequel has been made, simply called "Hannibal". Remember how gruesome the first film was? If Thomas Harris' novel (published last year) is any indication, "Hannibal" will leave it for dead. Since writing "The Silence of the Lambs", Harris has devised some even more disturbing ways for Hannibal to dispatch his victims. After all, the original is a tough act to follow.

"Silence" was the third film to win the quinella at the Oscars - best picture, director, screenplay, actor and actress - and the only horror movie so far to win the principal award. Make no mistake: it certainly belongs in the much-despised horror genre. It had everything from the serial killing (albeit mostly unseen) to Hannibal's inexplicable final-scene escape, in true Freddie Krueger style. Last we heard from him, he was on the phone: "I do wish we could chat longer, but I'm having an old friend for dinner."

For the release of "Hannibal", a tape was provided for the media, containing heavily edited interviews with the cast and crew. Everyone talks about how great it is to work with everyone else, what a genius director Ridley Scott is, and of course, how much people will enjoy the film. If this preview is any indication, don't expect any more ground-breaking.

With the names attached, however, you can almost believe the hype. Scott ("Gladiator") has taken the directorial reins from Jonathan Demme. The screenplay is co-written by David Mamet ("The Spanish Prisoner") and Steven Zaillian ("Schindler's List"). Hopkins (now Sir Anthony) will return, though his co-star Jodie Foster declined the $US20 million reappearance fee because she thought the novel was too lurid.

In "Hannibal", Julianne Moore plays an older, wiser version of FBI agent Clarice Sterling, the role that won Foster her second Oscar. "Comparisons are inevitable," admits Moore, "and of course there's apprehension about it... but that was one movie and this is another one."

Comparison was the least of her problems. "I actually talked to my shrink about it," she recently said in an interview with Vanity Fair. "Hannibal is the dark side that is part of everyone ... We are socialised, civilised, but in our fantasy lives we explore those themes. That's OK, but it's a fine line I feel uncomfortable with."

Hopkins has played hundreds of roles in his 45-year career, and most of them were not psychopaths. As himself, he seems a pleasant enough chap. However, he inhabits his most famous role with a disconcerting ease. "He consumes the role," says co-producer Martha De Laurentiis with admiration. "He is the role. It's chilling."

One is reminded of method actors like Dustin Hoffman, who also "consume" their characters. When one of his characters was worn out, Hoffman evaded sleep to look suitably dishevilled. ("Try acting, my boy!" advised his co-star, Sir Laurence Olivier.) Even Hillary Swank, before making "Boys Don't Cry", disguised herself as a man for several days. Wonderful, but obviously Sir Anthony would never go to such lengths with Hannibal. Surely not.

"I tap into that part of myself that is calm and confident and, I hope, witty," he says. And psychopathic? "Hannibal isn't a monster," he insists. "He is the dark side inside all of us."

OK, so we all have a dark side, but for most of us, it doesn't involve lobotomising people at the dinner table. Still, Hopkins is not Hannibal's only supporter. "There's something very moral about Lecter," says Scott. "Particularly in this film, the ones who meet their demise deserve it. So he dispenses justice."

There is even a hint that Clarice and her one-time nemesis will get more acquainted, forming one of the most bizarre romances since King Kong and Ann Darrow. "Even though he does bad things," says Martha De Laurentiis, "it's glorious what he's doing because he does care. He's a psychopath, and yet he cares for Starling."

The novel stirred debate because, while Hannibal doesn't exactly reform, readers cheer him on when he confronts the despicable Agent Paul Krendler, leading to a grisly finale. (Ray Liotta has the unenviable role of playing Krendler, a character who makes Hannibal look good.) In his attempts to track down Hannibal, Krendler deliberately makes Clarice's life miserable - something that brings out Hannibal's killer instincts. "Starling is an entirely different person," says Scott, "but there's still a very strong connection. Is it affection? From him to her: probably. From her to him: respect, I'd say, rather than affection."

Whatever her feelings, it seems that "Hannibal" is a very different beast to its prequel. "It's not about horror," says Hopkins. "It's a psychological thriller, but people will interpret it as they choose to interpret it." Composer Hans Zimmer, for example, sees it as a romance - a "modern-day Romeo and Juliet" - and has scored it accordingly.

So one thing is certain: "Hannibal" will prompt exclamations of "Oh, gross!" from sections of its audience. We just don't know whether this will be the boys or the girls.