Hannibal

Genre: Crime, drama, Horror; Starring: Mads Mikkelsen, Hugh Dancy, Caroline Dhavernas; TV Parental Guideline Rating: TV-14; Broadcaster: NBC

Posted May 21 2015 — 4:05 PM EDT

Now in its third season, Hannibal remains the most engrossing (and gross) serial-killer drama on television, and the most beautiful. Here, the acid never stops kicking in. The premiere’s opening sequence follows the titular cannibal as he drives through Paris at night on a motorbike, stalking a professor of Italian literature for two reasons: a new career and dinner. The sumptuous cinematography, the abstract imagery, the fluid editing, the jazzy-industrial score, and the deeply felt minimalism of Mads Mikkelsen’s performance work together to create an effect so rich, it’s like mainlining crème brûlée with your eyes.

For those wishing Hannibal would dial down the pretentious inscrutability: See the last paragraph. If anything, showrunner Bryan Fuller and his writers and directors have pushed the aphoristic scripting (“All sorrows can be worn if turned into story”) and dream- logic storytelling to the max. The new season abandons the grotesque-of-the-week structure for a surreal globe-trot exploring Hannibal’s life in Italy and tracking soul-mate foil Will Graham’s (Hugh Dancy) patient, elliptical pursuit of the devil he loves to love-hate.

The premiere is a nonlinear meditation on intimacy and betrayal focusing on the twisted pseudo-marriage between Hannibal and his shrink/thrall/captive, Bedelia Du Maurier (Gillian Anderson). The second episode begins to reveal who besides Will survived last sea- son’s bloodbath finale, in a story about grief and forgiveness that blurs fantasy and reality. The season’s design takes shape in episode 3, as the accumulating murk coheres around a key line: “Who among us doesn’t want understanding and acceptance?”

Hannibal has always been about recognizing our fascination with abomination, but you get the sense that Will Graham & Co.—scarred by that fixation yet illuminated by more self-awareness—are ready to end their romance with evil. I’m ready for it. Are you? May Hannibal serve the final, defining dish of this protracted antihero moment, and in high, uncompromising style. A–

Hannibal season 3 review: A haunting and emotionally rich return
By Emma Dibdin

A sense of impending doom has always saturated Bryan Fuller's intoxicating, elaborately written Hannibal, but it's never been more tangible than in the show's bold and disorienting third season, which finds Mads Mikkelsen's Hannibal Lecter several months into life as a fugitive in Italy. Mikkelsen's performance to date has been an exercise in restraint, building up this prequel Lecter as a believably stable, cultured, well-liked man whose murderous cannibalism comes as a shock to those who know him, in contrast to the lip-smacking, fava bean-loving Lecter with whom pop culture is more familiar.


But in the early episodes of season three, Mikkelsen allows more flickers of pure savagery to show through the careful mask of civility, putting his cover identity – as a curator at Florence's Palazzo Capponi – on shaky ground from the start. His capture is inevitable, both in terms of the Thomas Harris canon (which is followed closely, though not slavishly obeyed by Fuller) and within the show's own narrative context, where it's noted that Hannibal no longer seems as concerned as he should be about maintaining appearances.

The show's milieu has changed dramatically – where the first two seasons scarcely ventured outside the US state of Virginia, these first three episodes scarcely leave Europe – but its distinctive flavour remains the same, if not richer and more complex than before without the constraints of FBI-led procedural storytelling. There's more scope than ever for delving into the psychology of characters and their dark ties to one another, notably the deliciously paranoid dynamic between Hannibal and his former psychiatrist Bedelia (Gillian Anderson), who's playing wife to his alias Dr Fell.

Series premiere 'Antipasto' is, as its title suggests, a tasting platter, jumping back and forth between different timelines to offer only tantalising glimpses of each. In one, we see the act of violence that has kept Bedelia bound uneasily to Hannibal for years; another fleshes out the fate of a victim from last season, and gives rise to the kind of philosophical debate about cannibalism that will make you marvel – once again – that this is a show that airs on primetime US network television.


The deliberately disorienting jumps through time and space continue into second episode 'Primavera', which also features the show's most ambiguous piece of storytelling to date, setting up an intriguingly unreliable narrator in Hugh Dancy's traumatised Will Graham. Like moth to flame, Will has only grown more obsessed with his former friend since being gutted (physically and emotionally) by him in last season's finale, and the feeling is more than mutual.

Despite a heavy influx of religious iconography, existential searching and the show's reliably visceral brand of bloodletting, this is not a show that takes itself too seriously, never losing sight of the absurdist black comedy inherent in the story of a cultured cannibal. Mikkelsen and Anderson excel together at elegantly downplayed farce – a climactic dinner party scene in 'Antipasto' lays the groundwork for an even more gloriously unhinged one two episodes later.

Making a near-narrative reinvention look effortless, and expanding its visual vocabulary into ever-more imaginative flourishes, Hannibal's third outing secures its place as network television's greatest current triumph.

'Hannibal' Season 3 Review: The Bold Gets Bolder

Merrill Barr


Great TV can come from anywhere. However, as we’ve already seen this week through UnREAL and Mr. Robot, there are some sources it’s more expected from than others, and it’s through this prism how many view NBC’s Hannibal. The world at large (at least in regard to those that watch it based on the current ratings) seems to be in agreement that Hannibal is great television despite calling NBC home, and the reasons for this are rather clear. Hannibal is interesting, dynamic, complex and, most of all, bold. Heading into season three, it’s that last quality that can best describe the first three new episodes of 2015 for they are indeed the boldest pieces of storytelling the show has produced in its time since beginning in 2013.

Following the bloody events of the season two finale, Hannibal rejoins its title character in France as he lives under a new name and new profession with Dr. Bedelia Du Maurier. However, things are not as the good psychiatrist had hoped. Hannibal’s grown lonely without his most intriguing subject, Will Graham, to play his complex games of cat and mouse with. Unfortunately, this fact does not bode well for those closest to the fleeing killer.

Since the first scenes of its pilot episode, Hannibal has firmly established its ability to play outside the norm of broadcast television. But, regardless of how far the series pushed the envelope in seasons one and two, it goes to a whole new level in season three. Not only does the premiere feature a distinct lack of Graham’s character – in present form, imaginary vision or otherwise – but it doesn’t even stick to standard television cues. Often, the episode switches from a 16:9 to 2:21 aspect ratio and shifts in color palette at times to signify specific narrative tools are being used. Just on a purely visual level, the premiere episode is, quite possibly, the most avant-garde hour of small screen media to ever exist.

It’s a trend that’s continued throughout the two following episodes as well. Visuals are askew, screen imaginary is both creative and terrifying and the things we’ve come to expect from broadcast television – like main characters speaking – are tossed aside in order to drive Hannibal down its most enticing road yet. For the first time, it truly appears NBC and producing studio Gaumont have stepped aside to the point where the only thing holding the show back are the desires and limitation of creator/showrunner Bryan Fuller himself.

Hannibal is in the prime of its creativity, and that statement comes through no clearer than it does this season. Nothing about the show feels cheap, and every new reveal is completely earned. Often, the show goes to places that take the audience right to the brink of their expectation before shattering their assumptions into more pieces than the psychopath’s tea glass. If anyone was waiting for Hannibal to be let off the leash NBC may or may not have had it on, the wait is over. Season three is a Hannibal unhinged. Season three is the Hannibal everyone has been waiting to see.

Hannibal premieres Thursday, June 4th at 10/9c on NBC

‘Hannibal’ Season 3 Review: More To Savor With Return Of NBC Series
dpatten
by Dominic Patten
June 2, 2015 2:09pm

When we last saw Dr. Lecter at the end of Season 2 last year, he had walked away from a bloodbath and was flying far from America with the psychiatrist Dr. Bedelia Du Maurier (Gillian Anderson) by his first-class side. Well, Season 3 of Hannibal picks up on June 4 with the duo amongst the bright lights and poetry of Europe, but there is still a lot of blood flowing. As my video review above says, the Bryan Fuller-produced NBC series based on Thomas Harris’ novels about the infamous and captivating cannibal returns more beautiful and menacing than ever – and that’s really saying something for this deeply stylish series.

Seemingly born to inhabit the small-screen skin of Hannibal that Sir Antony Hopkins commanded to an Oscar-winning performance on the big screen, Mads Mikkelsen in Season 3 walks further in the Welsh actor’s steps. As the first few episodes reveal, Hannibal the TV series is going directly into territory seen before in the Ridley Scott-helmed 2001 Hannibal film — but with a very different approach. Hugh Dancy’s Will Graham is back, but this year sees Hannibal’s cast grow, as there is much to be consumed.

'Hannibal' Season 3 Episode 1, 'Antipasto,'

Adam Lehrer

The greatest drama series of all time don’t just hold expert storytelling, top-notch acting, and masterful tone as their only pedigrees. So much of what makes a show great comes down to its visual aesthetic: the suburban droll of The Sopranos, the urban gritty realism of The Wire, the sexy color splash of Mad Men, the nightmare desertscape of Breaking Bad, the rural surrealism of Twin Peaks. A show’s look is what sticks to the viewer’s mind when we think about it the day after an episode airs. It’s what locks us into the dramatic world.

By this standard, Hannibal is in a master class of its own. Series creator Bryan Fuller uses grotesque beauty marked by sharp blacks and reds that not only gives you a view into Dr. Hannibal Lecter (Mads Mikkelsen)’s warped world view, it also warps your actual world view. The show’s world is akin to a puppet stage with Lecter as its master and all other characters as, well, the puppets.

The show’s gruesome murders are portrayed as artistic by no mistake. We are seeing the world through Hannibal’s eyes. Hannibal is a creative genius and serial murder is his medium. All the murders that take place on the show are presented as works of art because that is how Hannibal, the cultural aesthete, views them.

The show’s second season finale was widely heralded as the best episode of any series last year. As Will Graham (Hugh Dancy) and Jack Crawford (Lawrence Fishburne) closed in on Hannibal, we realized that Hannibal can never be boxed in. He doesn’t lose control; this is his stage. Its his stage. Instead, we felt the betrayal that Hannibal feels, and almost empathized with his bloody retribution as he attempted murder on Dr. Alana Bloom (Caroline Dhavernas), Graham, Jack, and Abigail Hobbs (Kacey Rohl) before escaping with his conflicted psychiatrist, Bedelia Du Maurier (Gillian Anderson).

Season 3 kicks off with Hannibal riding his motorcycle around Paris. He seems to have shed his pension for three piece Italian suits and instead wears an Alexander McQueen-looking motorcycle jacket. Now that Hannibal’s identity has been revealed, perhaps he can be himself an unwind a little bit? The shakey cameras moving back and forth from Hannibal’s intriguing mug and the industrial soundscape music all indicate that Hannibal is out looking for dinner.
Bedelia, Hannibal

Inside at the party of self-important creatives and intellectuals, cannibal Lecter seems like the least lousy human in the room, perhaps because he is aware of the grossness of the cultural aesthete world? Hannibal meets an arrogant young poet named Anthony (Tom Wisdom). I wish I could tell Tony that being Hannibal’s friend is not something that happens.

Hannibal Season 3 Premiere Review: Antipasto
Review Kayti Burt 6/4/2015 at 11:02PM

Hannibal returns with stylish melancholy, a new European setting, and more time with the mysterious Bedelia in its Season 3 premiere.

There is a purposeful absence in the Hannibal Season 3 premiere. It is the void left by Will Graham’s “betrayal” that Hannibal (Mads Mikkelsen) is trying to fill. Will was the person who Hannibal deemed worthy enough to see the true Dr. Lecter. Now, there is a Will-shaped hole in his life and he spends the premiere trying to fill it. His heart doesn’t really seem in it, which makes for a chilling, trance-like Season 3 launch.

In Will’s absence, Hannibal must make due with others. The premiere sees Dr. Lecter and his former therapist Bedelia Du Maurier (Gillian Anderson) ensconced in Florentine society under assumed identities (aka Hannibal killed a dude, Dr. Fell, and stole his credentials). Hannibal as Dr. Fell should be in his element. His diverse intellectual interests are being tickled by his alias as a Dante scholar. He is surrounded by art and history and refined society. Aesthetically, life is great.

But this broken-hearted Hannibal is a cold, dissatisfied one. Though Hannibal has always been a merciless killer, his hand has been sometimes stayed by the necessity of keeping his cover. Yes, he killed, but there was a certain logic to it. It’s not that this logic has changed, but Hannibal’s context has. He is no longer friends with Will Graham. He is no longer trying to impress or communicate with anyone. At least not until the final moments of this episode. And that makes for an even chillier Hannibal. As Bedelia puts it, Hannibal is more concerned with “making appearances” than maintaining them.

If Hannibal is putting in a half-hearted effort anywhere, it’s with Bedelia, who has assumed the identity of his wife, Mrs. Fell. She is Hannibal’s captor, but her degree of agency is unclear. She is obviously petrified. She is disturbed by Hannibal’s killing of the charming Dimmond. In many ways, Dimmond is the closest thing we get to Will Graham in this episode: clever, charming, and able to speak a similar language as Hannibal. But he will not offer Dimmond the same gift he did Will.

When Hannibal kills Dimmond, Bedelia is not surprised. She is a reluctant observer to Hannibal’s game, but Hannibal insists she is an active participant. As viewers, it’s hard to unravel her motivations and thought processes. We’ve seen two seasons’ worth of evidence that Hannibal is a master manipulator. He can persuade people to do nearly anything, including kill their patient in the most gruesome of ways. We get a flashback to the aftermath of Bedelia’s self-defense slaughter of her patient (a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it cameo from Zachary Quinto), but so much of her story and character are still obscured.

This entire episode eschews clarity in a slow, confident, avant-garde way that might frustrated viewers. We don’t check in with any of the other main characters. We aren’t given answers as to why Bedelia is sticking around or why she boarded that plane with Hannibal in the first place. But, like every other installment of Hannibal, this show is too intricately beautiful and philosophically clever to care.

It also helps that this episode gives us what is probably the most Hannibal-centric episode to date. Yes, Bedelia’s mundanely terrifying life as Hannibal’s captive is given a fair amount of screen time, but we spend a lot of down time with Hannibal as he flits from place to place, trying not to look too closely at that Will-shaped void, his broken rebuke from the Season 2 finale echoing across the (very) long hiatus: “I gave you a rare gift, but you didn’t want it.

Hannibal may have rebooted its story with this tale of Hannibal in Europe, but, stylistically, it is the same show. We are treated to the same slow-motion reveries that continually challenge the line between objectivity and subjectivity, between reality and fantasy. On another show, this forays into the avant garde might be jarring or confusing, but, here, they serve to ground Hannibal as it shakes up the more traditional elements of plot. Here, a mix-up in both setting and focus doesn’t feel shoehorned or convoluted to draw in new viewers. It feels organic. Of course Hannibal would head to Europe to mend a broken heart. And, more than any network show on TV, Hannibal isn’t afraid to linger in that chilling melancholy.

‘Hannibal’ Season 3 Premiere Review: The Devil Went Down To Florence

By Kevin Yeoman 5 hours ago 4 Comments

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There are several references to the devil in ‘Antipasto,’ the Hannibal season 3 premiere, many of which are directed at the titular character of Dr. Hanniabl Lecter (Mads Mikkelsen). At one point, during a dreamy flashback that’s not so much desaturated as it is awash in a hazy blue-gray tint and altered aspect ratio – as another hint of just how much the show likes to skew its own sense of perspective – Dr. Abel Giddeon (Eddie Izzard) comes right out and says it: “You really are…the devil.” Later, while under the guise of his new identity, Dr. Fell, Hannibal delivers a lecture on Dante amongst display cases filled with ancient torture equipment. As if the combination of the two weren’t enough to send the message home, director Vincenzo Natali superimposes a rendering of Lucifer directly over Hannibal’s face. It’s as if to say, “If you didn’t believe the guy eating his own leg, perhaps this will do the trick.”

To be honest, this is nothing new; Hannibal has always been presented as devil-like (or, if you wish to interpret it more literally: the devil walking among humankind). But here at the start of season 3, the many references to Dr. Lecter as the devil take on a new quality, given the fact that, for the first time since the series began, we are treated to a Hannibal Lecter who seems far more human than ever before.

‘Antipasto’ is a surprisingly sedate and somewhat languid affair, after last season’s blood-drenched ‘Mizumono‘ left Will Graham (Hugh Dancy) gutted, Alana Bloom (Caroline Dhavernas) broken, and Jack Crawford (Laurence Fishburne) drained. And perhaps that’s for the best. None of the FBI’s most devastated players makes an appearance in the episode. Instead, Hannibal is vacuum-sealed with Dr. Bedelia Du Mauirer (Gillian Anderson) in a tense psychosexual packing set around the morally ambiguous notion of observation and participation. It is one where the former therapist expertly plays the devil’s bride – or, in this case Dr. Fell’s wife – and gets to say things like, “I still believe I am in conscious control of my actions,” while drawing a bath.

There’s romanticism to the premiere that is no doubt due to the increased presence of Anderson – the way she sits on the edge of the bathtub suggests a water heater is unnecessary – but it is also a byproduct of the startlingly ornate setting in which the series now finds itself. The sensuous and sumptuous bathroom alone, where Du Muarier experiences a conscious re-birth of sorts, is a dramatic departure from the cold, hard lines of Hannibal’s home-turned-horrific-crime-scene and the pallid gray walls of the FBI’s office. And the aesthetic of the setting breathes new and unanticipated life into the title character.

But here, change is not only different and unexpected; it’s interesting. The first time we see Hannibal is after he’s sliced his way through the streets of Paris on his motorcycle. He stops and removes his helmet, revealing not the immaculate presence of Dr. Lecter from seasons 1 and 2, but a looser, slightly disheveled version whose hair now cascades over one eye rather than being shellacked into position. In a sense it’s Hannibal Lecter becoming sloppier (since this is the Red Dragon season, Lecter’s physical appearance is perhaps a subtle nod to where the narrative will eventually take him), but it’s also Hannibal Lecter, the fictional character, becoming roomier, rolling the window down and letting some air in, allowing more personality to fill the otherwise pristine, stuffy façade he was forced to wear while inserting himself into the world of Will Graham and Jack Crawford. Hannibal has, in effect, stepped out of his people suit, a fact he tells Bedelia in the immediate aftermath of ‘Mizumono,’ while she calmly double fists a glass of brandy and a hand cannon.

Stepping out of his people suit and stepping into the identity of another man – in this case, Dr. Fell – puts Hannibal in a different position than before. He’s not quite the pure version of himself, the one that is hinted at whenever Bedelia hints at the true essence behind Mikkelsen’s radiantly dark eyes. And there is a different kind of ceremony to his usual cannibalism. Here, frying up the late Dr. Fell’s liver in a pan with a large pat of butter isn’t just doing what the good doctor usually does; it’s the consumption of another being to assume his identity. By taking on the character of another person, Hannibal begins to more closely resemble an actual human being, rather than a being whose mere presence cuts like surgical steel.

‘Antipasto’ is an episode interested in exploring new avenues, evidenced again by the opening sequence of Hannibal traveling by motorbike. And in doing so it is ready to leave certain things behind, to move on to the next chapter. To accomplish this, it has to establish some ground rules, which are laid out during a semi-lurid dinner party where Anthony Dimmond (Tom Wisdom), a young poet and former TA of the late Dr. Fell, notices Bedelia noshing on what the Romans typically fed cattle to improve their flavor. “My husband is very particular about the way I taste,” Bedilia says, prompting Tom to ask, “Is it that kind of party?”

“No, it’s not,” Hannibal replies, hinting to the audience what Hannibal season 3 may eventually become: a season of change, unexpected detours, and double meanings. One where Bedelia can sit near a train, decked-out in a blue wide-brimmed hat and trench coat, knowing she’s likely to suffer the same fate as a rabbit dripping blood over her grocer’s counter, and yet not bring herself to escape her predicament. It may also be a season where things that have literally been left behind not only threaten to return, but are openly invited back. And considering Hannibal turns the young, assuming Mr. Dimmond into a heart-shaped tableau, it’s safe to assume some form of familiarity will soon come calling.

Hannibal’s Back- Hannibal Season 3 Episode 1 Non-Spoiler Review
by Shannon McShortall ⋅ Posted on June 5th, 2015 at 10:06am

PRIOR NOTE: This review won’t have major spoilers, but if you want to go into the episode with not even a general idea of what will be happening thematically, then maybe come back later after you’ve seen it. I’ve also got a few minor images from the episode.

Hannibal is back with a vengeance as Season 3 kicked off today showing where Hannibal and Bedelia are in their lives. We delve into their relationship, their actions, their positions and their insights, but that’s all we get. Will Graham isn’t even mentioned until 19 minutes in and the next time he is mentioned is 41 minutes in. While next week promises Will Graham, this week had none. But that’s fine.

Hannibal Lecter is, after all, the titular character of the show and while this episode was a slow-burn semi-dramatic piece, it was necessary given the large break between Season 2 and now. Also, given the new setting and completely new relationship that almost sprung itself on the audience, the show needs to delve into it. I thought some parts were unnecessary, but I also felt as if Bryan Fuller really wanted to drive home the point of the episode. With references to Dante’s Inferno and the Ninth Level of Hell (which always seems to be the go-to text when characterising upper-class characters on tv and in film), the episode was needed to illustrate what Hannibal has become. As we saw at the end of Season 2, the deer is dead. The Wendigo has ascended. Hannibal has become something similar to the Devil himself.

We see that Hannibal is becoming more and more open. People are picking up on him. He revealed himself at the end of Season 2 and now he has a “bride” that knows his secret. With the Red Dragon story coming up, we can expect that Will Graham will land Hannibal in jail soon. Talking about Red Dragon, that was also subtly hinted at through imagery, but this imagery leaned more on the idea that Hannibal was Lucifer. We see Hannibal becoming more and more like Will as there are suggestions that he is being haunted. To add to a generally nostalgic feeling the episode hopes to garner, flashbacks of classic scenes are featured, some being extended and changed.

Hannibal Lecter has become something new. Now he appears to flaunt his killings and dance with a bride like he doesn’t have a care in the world. He seems to not care about ethics, stating that “ethics become aesthetics” and trying to make Bedelia more like him. His relationship with her is a real treat. The food porn/facts and frequent audience in-joke double entendres about eating people continue over into this season, but the show had changed. It’s not worse, but at this point it’s not better. It’s a different kind of good. Gillian Anderson, Eddie Izzard and Mads Mikkelsen deliver phenomenal performances as ever and Bedelia was a real standout, given her lack of screentime previously. This episode wasn't as disturbing as one would expect from Hannibal, but it did deliver some funny moments, which felt refreshing.

Next week will probably be used to show the audience how Will and his side have changed. I can pretty much expect that Hannibal Lecter will hardly have screentime, but that’s also ok. These two characters are so complex that if they had both changed so much and they had equal screentime in the episode, it would detract from the effect. Therefore, while the episode felt bold and new, it feel down by focusing completely on its titular character and his “relationship”. But this was a necessary evil to warrant what looks to be a stellar season.

Hannibal Season 3 Premiere Recap: It’s Not That Kind of Party
By Greg Cwik

Previously on Hannibal ...

At the end of Hannibal’s sensationally sordid season-two finale, “Mizumono,” the good Doctor Lecter (Mads Mikkelsen) left his best friend Will Graham (Hugh Dancy) filleted and bleeding on the floor; Jack Crawford (Laurence Fishburne) nursing a punctured neck in the pantry; Alana Bloom (Caroline Dhavernas) shattered on the sidewalk; and the thought-to-be-dead Abigail Hobbs (Kacey Rohl), whose purported death has haunted Will incessantly, split from ear to ear. Series creator Bryan Fuller was unsure if Hannibal would be picked up for a third season — its ratings are subpar, to put it kindly — so he and Steve Lightfoot (one of the great current TV-writing duos) penned a series finale that has as many slit throats as it does loose ends. Had Hannibal been canceled, the most lugubrious show of the last 20 years would have left us with the most ferociously violent series finale to ever appear on a network channel. It makes Twin Peaks’s “Beyond Life and Death” look jovial. Lucky for us, Hannibal was renewed. Luckier for us, season three seems to be going in a markedly different direction.

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“Bonsoir.”

With Brian Reitzell’s cacophonous percussion and sinister synths accompanying him like devoted acolytes, Hannibal Lecter glides through the rain-slicked Parisian streets, the yellow headlight of his motorcycle resembling the bloated moon above. Hannibal’s traded in his person suit for a gleaming black helmet and snug leather jacket; when he dismounts the bike and removes his helmet, his usually immaculate hair hangs at a haphazard slant across one eye. We follow him from behind, the camera smooth and slow and somehow sensual. Less than two minutes into the new season and we’ve already been drawn into a foreign land, following a man who only vaguely resembles the Hannibal Lecter we know and fear. He looks almost … human.

Hannibal attends a glitzy party comprising the typical artists and intellectuals one expects to find in Paris. The figuratively incestuous, cannibalistic nature of self-important artists and egotists reflects Hannibal’s literal cannibalism, as well as his own God complex. Yet somehow, the serial killer comes off as the least deplorable person in the room. For all his lies and grotesqueries, Hannibal has a genuine affinity for culture. He's not faking that. Hannibal meets a pernicious young poet named Anthony (Tom Wisdom), who describes him as having a “thinly veiled disdain” in his eyes. The young poet won’t make it to the second episode.

With a series of dissolves and nonlinear cuts, Hannibal moves to Florence, immersing us in this new world in which Dr. Lecter ostensibly fits — a palace of enlightenment, all gauzy lights and chandeliers and long, looming columns and pretty people in fancy garb. It’s all artifice, Hannibal knows; for once, he’s the honest one. As in Thomas Harris’s tar-black comedy novel from which the show derives its name, the exiled doctor sets his gaze on a prestigious position as a library curator. The position is currently filled, but Hannibal, assuming the identity of a Dr. Fell, takes care of that little inconvenience.

“Bonsoir.”

The rest of the episode follows a nebulous structure. It jetés forward in time; like a world-class ballerina, it leaps and spins in different directions, drawing our attention one way before swaying in another, yet you never doubt whether it’s in control. Hannibal, now dancing with (of all people) Dr. Bedelia Du Maurier (the great Gillian Anderson), whom he addresses as his wife, is approached by a snide, bearded man who questions Hannibal’s erudition. Hannibal isn’t a real Italian, which intrinsically lessens his ability to properly understand Dante, according to this soon-to-be-sorry academic. The emulous doctor says he’s willing to earn his meal, and agrees to do a presentation on Dante to become the full-time curator of the library. Fuller and Lightfoot slowly strip away Hannibal’s veneer, as if peeling away the cover-ups on a Renaissance painting. Whereas Hannibal has, until now, been a cipher, a Devil in disguise, he now finally resembles a person in a suit rather than someone wearing a person suit. We’re finally privy to his emotions, able to see the cracks in his self-esteem. Mikkelsen has always been dashing and devious, the kind of stoic turn that goes ignored by awards committees, but he really digs into the role here, his eye flittering, giving away the emotions he previously concealed. The careful way he lets his voice break with anger belies the enunciated, antiquated gentleman persona. If Mikkelsen’s fetching Hannibal Lecter has, up till now, been considered second to that of Anthony Hopkins, this season promises an imminent usurpation.

At once airy yet calculated, the aptly named “Antipasto” is, to date, the most subtle, least claustrophobic episode of Hannibal. Hannibal’s dark, dour office and the lifeless chrome halls of the FBI building give way to the lush romanticism of Florence. As an introduction to the new season, the episode offers little action, instead giving us fleeting glimpses behind Hannibal’s cracking façade. It eddies elliptically, gliding from past to present. The episode’s director, series regular Vincenzo Natali, uses a widescreen aspect ratio to denote flashbacks, showing us the purported last days of Abel Gideon (Eddie Izzard), whom Hannibal has abducted and from whom Hannibal is slowly flensing bits of body and appendages. Izzard’s return, however brief, is most welcome; his calm back-and-forths with Mikkelsen have a distinct, disquieting rhythm. “You’re the devil,” Gideon tells Hannibal, who has lopped off one of Gideon’s arms (Gideon now has one arm and no legs) and has been feeding it to snails so that he can dine on said snails, along with Gideon. Gideon knows he’s going to be eaten, unlike the snails, which slither around in blissful, slimy ignorance. Hannibal, Gideon theorizes, is like a snail in that he doesn’t want to eat alone. Hannibal doesn’t deny this.

“I can’t wait until this happens to you,” Gideon says to Dr. Lecter, eyeing the snails exquisitely laid out before him. Is that a glint of trepidation in Hannibal’s eye? Has Gideon gotten to him?

Another flashback, this one in color, shows us an event that has been alluded to multiple times throughout the show. We finally get to the attack that forced Bedelia to give up being a therapist. Until now, we’ve been led to believe that Hannibal showed up and saved Bedelia by tearing the tongue from the would-be killer’s head, but now it appears that Hannibal’s involvement may have been more limited than initially insinuated. The sensuous appeal of violence, of voyeurism-as-participation, suffuses the whole episode.

Natali, who directed the first three episodes of season three, has become the series’ finest director. He may not have the name recognition of David Slade (who directed the pilot and the second season finale), or the copious television credits of Michael Rhymer (who directed this season’s finale), but Natali’s vision melds perfectly with Bryan Fuller’s. His work on Hannibal far surpasses his films (Cube, Splice). He helmed last season’s standout “Su-zakana,” in which we met the elusive Margot Verger (Katharine Isabelle). It showcased one of the best gross-out (but not gratuitous) shock moments of the show when a monstrous social worker clawed his way out of the carcass of a horse, having been sewn in by a mentally handicapped man who was emotionally and mentally abused by the social worker. The hyperstylized visuals and moral ambiguity – will Will kill this guy, who so clearly deserves a bullet in the brain? Will Hannibal let Will? – and introduction of Margot marked a turning point, aesthetically and tonally, for the season. But with “Antipasto,” Natali shows surprising restraint; the lack of visual indulgence and the bizarre serenity of the episode are almost jarring, so accustomed are we to the fever-dream ferocity of Fuller’s work.

Natali channels the classic Italian filmmakers of the 1960s and ’70s, particularly Bernardo Bertolucci circa The Conformist, in his careful compositions and subtle camera movements, pushing closer to characters, capturing the diffused light spilling from lofty windows, using the environment to sustain a mood more than before.

Most of the episode is Hannibal and Bedelia talking, but it’s not just Hannibal and Bedelia talking: We learn as much about Hannibal in these 40-something minutes as we have in the past two seasons. As Bedelia says, Hannibal is no longer dissimulating or hiding himself behind that stoic non-smile. He lets us see him. Hannibal has been criticized for its lackluster female characters, which isn’t totally fair, since the show has primarily been concerned with the psychological, pseudo-psychosexual relationship between Hannibal and Will Graham, while Alana Bloom gets relegated to the background. But in “Antipasto,” Mikkelsen and Anderson get to play off of each other. They have spectacular chemistry: She brings out the darkness percolating behind those eyes but seems to also get at something almost human lurking inside Hannibal. In a deliciously sadistic scene, Hannibal’s young poet friend joins the pair for dinner, pointing out that Hannibal is serving foods that Romans used to use to make people taste better.

“My husband is very particular about the way I taste,” Bedelia intones.

“Is this that kind of party?” the poet asks, after a beat.

Hannibal and Bedelia exchange glances; with a stiletto stare, Hannibal says, “No, it’s not.”

Bedelia adds, “It’s really not.”

“Antipasto” isn’t that kind of party, either: With just one onscreen murder — and a strangely mild one, at that — the episode is disconcertingly placid, with tension manifesting in the unexpected, sustained tranquility. Thanks to some sharp dialogue pleated with myriad meanings, Mikkelsen and Anderson enthrall just as much as the show’s usual histrionic, CGI-addled murder-as-performance-art setpieces. The transition to demure feels so natural, and Mikkelsen and Anderson are so good, you may not even notice that Will and Alana don’t appear at all in the episode, and Jack only appears in one brief flashback. We don’t even know who survived the “Mizumono” massacre, and it doesn’t seem to matter. Hannibal has moved on. So do we.

Bonsoir.

Hannibal, series 3, episode 1, Sky Living, review: 'ravishing'
Hannibal is one of the tastiest US imports on TV, says Michael Hogan

omment
Gourmet serial killer thriller Hannibal (Sky Living) was back for a third series. We’d last seen flesh-eating anti-hero Dr Hannibal Lecter (Mads Mikkelsen) winning a bloody battle with the FBI. Now he was a fugitive, clad in black leathers and speeding through Paris on a motorbike, resembling a cannibalistic pizza delivery boy. Thin crust, extra fava beans and human flesh, hold the anchovies.
He sipped champagne at a swish party and showed his gratitude to the host by scoffing him. Like an inter-railing gap year student, Lecter then hopped to Florence, murdered a museum curator, assumed his identity – Dr Fell, as in “I do not like thee” – and began chowing down on the locals.
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After two years in the role, Mikkelsen has outgrown the Anthony Hopkins film portrayal and made this charismatic monster his own. His dapper suits and controlled stiffness give him the air of a melted shop mannequin. Gillian Anderson has taken on a more central role as the flouncily named Dr Bedelia Du Maurier, Lecter’s therapist-turned-hostage, all icy hauteur and designer gowns. She and Hannibal took a turn around the ballroom, and both would do well on Strictly.
There was no sign of the Feds on Lecter’s trail: troubled psychological profiler Will Graham (Hugh Dancy) or his boss Jack Crawford (Laurence Fishburne). Are they dead or alive? We’ll soon find out, because Hannibal couldn’t resist sending his old chum Will a heart-shaped Valentine.
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The dialogue was wittily wordy and the visuals were as ravishing as ever – all sumptuous interiors and whizzy slo-mo cookery. However, there was a problem with the plotting which was nothing short of baffling. It was hard to tell what was going on in the gothic murk, while flashbacks and dream sequences further muddied – or bloodied – the waters. Hannibal has previously been able to balance style with substance but here the baroque imagery went into overdrive. Let’s hope that this was just an overly stylised appetiser (the episode was titled “Antipasto”, after all) and not a sign of increasing self-indulgence. Hannibal is one of the tastiest US imports on TV and it would be a shame if it disappeared up its own pan-fried posterior.

Wer gern auf Deutsch eine Kritik lesen möchte, kann das wöchentlich zum Beispiel bei Filmfutter tun. Aber Achtung, der Artikel enthält immer Spoiler zur besprochenen Folge.
Der Eindruck zur ersten Folge findet sich hier und insgesamt vergibt der Autor 3 1/2 Sterne