There are many different kinds of cheese. And in this case, mold isn't a good thing.

Rating: 2/10 (24 April 2009)

Ever since I was a little kid, I was obsessed with reading pulp horror. I've read more from the genre than anyone I personally know. Being a soon-to-be-published author myself, I've learned more about the genre by constantly reading than by any writing seminar I've ever been to. For those who don't read, by simple definition, pulp horror is: a story that is genuinely terrifying and thrilling, but purposely lacks any forced literary moral. Stephen King is pretty much the poster-child of this style of writing. With all of that said, when The Silence of the Lambs, the novel, was released and received mass critical acclaim for being the "perfect" horror-thriller, even being the major genre-whore that I am, I could really care less. Why? Simple because I'd read so many books EXACTLY like it, I had no interest. A few years later, when the movie was released, I felt the exact same way. This is why I've waited so long to view this "impossible-to-miss!" film. Because I knew it was just more of the same. When I finally decided to force myself to watch it, I found my gut instinct was underestimating. The Silence of the Lambs is not only just more of the same unoriginal story that we've all heard so many times that it's second nature to us, it's also cheesy, immature, over-glamorized, and, in the end, completely laughable. And here is why . . .
First and foremost: The Silence of the Lambs is, unarguably, 100% unoriginal. There is not a single original—or even creative—concept in the entire runtime of the film. This paragraph of my review is not my opinion. The way I view the world has no bearing on what has or hasn't been done in storytelling before. Saying that it's my opinion that The Silence of the Lambs is unoriginal is equivalent to saying that it's my opinion that the sky is blue. And just as childish. With that said, I can literally point you, scene-by-scene, to where every single idea in The Silence of the Lambs has been written and filmed in the past. Dressed to Kill, for a major example. From the formula, to the characters, to the situations, to the set-up: it's all, unarguably, one giant genre cliché. And, as I said, I can point to every movie, every book that has used the EXACT scenes in the past. This isn't just a coincidence; it's an unabashed lack of creativity and intelligence from the writer. Just more of the same cliché Hollywood and pulp fiction conventions we've seen all our lives. All the standard clichés are here, folks: romantic subplot, tension at the agency, troubled childhoods, etc., etc., etc.
Hannibal Lector himself is, admittedly by the author, nothing but a mash-up of various fictional and real-life serial killers. The two most obvious fictional killers he unabashedly rips-off are Leatherface (The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, 1974) and Mark Lewis (Peeping Tom, 1960). Leatherface's actions (cannibal, wears victim's faces) + Lewis's mind (pretentious, psychiatrist, study's human behavior, kills people to study reactions, gives long speeches about serial killers, has a supposed vast knowledge of the human mind) = Hannibal Lector. There is not a single character trait that Lector has that wasn't done nearly 40 years before he was written. Again, a kindergarten lack of creativity. I honestly don't even know how his character got past copyright laws.
Not to mention Hannibal's cheesy persona. He pronounces "liver" with slurping sounds at the end. So did 3-year-olds, but I don't cower in fear of them. He never actually DOES anything on-screen, except talk. And talk. And when he does talk, he talks with the pseudo-intelligence of a high-school dropout who took a semester of psychology. Why? Because his psychological knowledge is laughably limited, and sometimes incorrect all together. He's supposed to be this oh-so-evil genius, but all he ever does is quote cliché phrases from dumbed-down Freud. He knows NOTHING about psychology. The pathetic writers just wrote enough cliché psychobabble between his laugh-out-loud cheesy slurping sounds to make it seem like he knew at least as much about the human mind as the average middle-school student. And then, just like all over-glamorized Hollywood, every time Hannibal is on the screen they point the camera up at his face with light shining behind his head as he stares at the ceiling without blinking. That's not good acting. That's made-for-TV directing they use in low-budget Jesus movies. Hannibal Lector is nothing but an awkward middle-aged man who is obsessed with talking and breaking copyright laws. How is that unnerving? If I met him, I'd laugh in his face and tell him to grow up.
So, at root value, I'm just trying to ask: What is so great about this movie? It's a generic crime thriller. It opens up with a generic cop-meets-killer scene, and ends with a generic cheesy-killer-in-the-house scene. Everything in between is exactly what you'd expect from an over-glamorized generic Hollywood thriller. It has NO significance whatsoever when it comes to originality. And as far as entertainment value goes, I don't see what's so entertaining in watching a middle-age man talk for an hour on end. If that entertains you, I pity you.
Oh my God! This movie TERRIFIED me! Why? Because an awkward middle-aged man pronounced "liver" like a 3-year-old.
I'll say the same thing to those of you who gave this movie a high score as I'd say to Hannibal Lector: GROW UP.
2/10