"You Don't Want Hannibal Lecter Inside Your Head"

Rating: Null/10 (5 February 2000)

Demme and his long-time collaborator, Tak Fujimoto, have a crack at turning a weird novel into a movie. I'm afraid to say that it doesn't work.
There are moments when the film seems about to go somewhere interesting, but each time the idea fizzles out. Clarice's flashback memories are evoked by Lecter's nasty mindgames, but in the end her feelings for her lost father are opened up too pedantically and the chance to do something truly disturbing is lost. An exquisite dilemma is set up - should Agent Starling flout her orders and training, and subject herself to appalling risks, in order to save the endangered Catherine? But Lecter decides to pursue other objectives, and the potential is squandered.
Intelligence is a fine thing in a film, and it is very satisfying for the viewer to see the clues unravelled in a thriller. However, cleverness for its own sake, unanchored in the bedrock of character, is a pernicious thing. Lecter's anagrams ('Hester Mofet') don't come off, partly because they are too remote from the chase itself, and partly because they have to be explained to the audience. "We covet what we see every day ..." - this is hopelessly poor as a clue, and when the agents solve it, I for one am reminded of the TV "Batman" episode when the Penguin commits robberies all over Gotham which, when marked on the map, sketch out the shape of his distinctive hat. It's as far-fetched as that.
Doctor Chilton is awful. He is a cartoon character, outlandishly pompous and unsympathetic. The prisoner's escape ploy makes me cringe, it is so preposterous - wouldn't the paramedics actually try to examine the supposed facial wounds? And why are they pumping him full of Ringer's solution without ascertaining that he's losing haemostatic pressure?
Admittedly, Clarice's time in Bill's house is psychologically gripping, but this has nothing to do with the film's alleged cleverness. It is the oldest device of all, to get us to 'know' the girl, so that we make some emotional investment in her, then stick her in an old dark house with the creepy bad guy. Nothing about that final sequence stands up to even the lightest analysis. Why doesn't the FBI agent simply call for back-up, and stay put? Once she locates the victim, isn't her duty to stay with her to protect her? Once Bill eludes the agent, why doesn't he just escape? He can't want to kill the agent as part of his compulsion. She doesn't come close to fitting the victim profile that the film has so laboriously developed for us. He must know that if he remains at the scene, other agents will arrive soon.
Lecter is interesting enough initially, but one has to question the way the film makes a hero of him. Are psychotic killers imprisoned in cages in large rooms like this? Are they handcuffed to the bars at mealtime? And supervised by a team of two no-brainers? Can they dupe SWAT teams and medical staff with ease, and escape, blood-soaked, from busy cities? Do we really prefer Lecter to Chilton? And if we do, should we? I don't want Hannibal inside my head, not because he is terrifying (which he isn't), but because he is a waste of my time.