I'm having an old friend for dinner.

Rating: 10/10 (18 January 2014)

It has been a good long while since I have felt the presence of Evil so manifestly demonstrated as in the first appearance of Anthony Hopkins in "The Silence of the Lambs." He stands perfectly still in the middle of his cell floor, arms at his sides, and we sense instantly that he is not standing at attention, he is standing at rest - like a savage animal confident of the brutality coiled up inside him. His speaking voice has the precision of a man so arrogant he can barely be bothered to address the sloppy intelligence of the ordinary person. The effect of this scene is so powerful that it underlies all the rest of the movie, lending terror to scenes that do not even involve him.
Like all great entrances in the movies, his is carefully prepared. We learn that his character, Dr. Hannibal Lecter, is both a brilliant psychiatrist and a mass murderer, known as "Hannibal the Cannibal" because he eats his victims. He is already behind bars (and unbreakable Plexiglas) when the movie opens, and indeed "The Silence of the Lambs" is about the search for another mass murderer, named "Buffalo Bill," who skins his victims.
Operating on the theory that it takes one to know one, the FBI agent in charge of the case thinks Lecter might be able to provide useful clues in the search for Buffalo Bill. But Lecter toys with most of his inquisitors, or dismisses them, and so the agent hits on the idea of sending in an untried young female trainee (Jodie Foster). Perhaps she will appeal to the monster.
Foster is inevitably upstaged by Hopkins' rich and gruesome creation, but her steadiness and pluck are at the heart of the movie.
Some interesting aspects have been provided for her character: She is "one generation up from white trash," as Lecter correctly guesses; she tries to disguise her hillbilly accent, and she has to muster up all of her courage to order a roomful of lascivious lawmen out of an autopsy room. The movie has an undercurrent of unwelcome male attention toward her character; rarely in a movie have I been made more aware of the subtle sexual pressures men put upon women with their eyes.
We are frightened both because of the film's clever manipulation of story and image, and for better reasons--we like Clarice, identify with her and fear for her. Just like Lecter.