Preposterous.Psychobabble meets schlock horror.Laughable.

Rating: 4/10 (6 August 2009)

Allow me to gingerly dip a toe into the chill waters of dissenting opinion here."The silence of the lambs" was nothing more than a risible schlock horror meets pop psychology movie that rode to huge success on the back of a quite brilliant advertising campaign.Mr A.Hopkins,on his way to becoming v.v.rich,slums it up gleefully with some jovial serial-killer quips,lending like Richard Burton before him,his glorious voice to the Studio paymasters.His character,a repulsive homicidal maniac,a lover(of course) of classical music with dialogue direct from the Smart-alec Hollywood Writers' Handbook,,a Lord Byron amongst serial killers,seeks amusement by manipulating young and inexperienced FBI trainee (Miss J.Foster) at will.Of course in real life any inexperienced FBI trainee after her first meeting with such a nutjob would have told her bosses where to poke their badge and gone on a long holiday as far away from Quantico as possible,but this isn't real life and plucky moppet that she is,Miss Foster takes him on at his own game.Really,how likely is that? With plenty of ripe ham from Mr H. and some Nancy Drew like behaviour from Miss F.,the movie trundles over familiar ground with lots of shocks that aren't shocking for people who remember them from the first time around.Mr H escapes and eats somebody.Excuse me whilst I repair my split sides. They should have given an Oscar (T.M.) to the publicity department.