So. Hannibal 1×10: ‘Buffet Froid’

In honor of the first five minutes of this episode, I’ve decided to make a change when it comes to reviewing this episode and do it as more of a slightly casual recap.

Why? Well, I spent the first five minutes of this episode speaking thusly. Out loud. Between my fingers.

And intermittently turning the sound off when I just couldn’t take it.

Yes, I’m a wimp.

*Ahem*

A woman comes home at night, and she owns a canary.

Aaaaa she’s standing by the bed she’s standing by the bed oh she isn’t grabbed yet.

Aaaaa, she’s in the bed.

Aaaaa there’s damp in the ceiling, she huffs and is going to investigate.

Damp spreading across the ceiling, no that’s not ominous AT ALL.

Don’t get out of bed, don’t get out aaaaa.

STEP AWAY FROM THE BED, STEP AWAY FROM THE BED.

Oh, she did.

She walks around the dark dark house.

She goes up into the dark dark attic.

There is…a hole in the dark dark attic roof and snow is coming in. What time of year is this, again? I know it was Christmas time in ‘Oeuf’, but I’ve lost track a bit. A dreamlike setting will do that to you.

THERE ARE FOOTPRINTS IN THE SNOW ON THE ROOF. Umm…how did whoever the killer is this week get up there? And why didn’t they slip?

She tarps the hole up, after a fashion, and sets down a bowl she got…from somewhere. I sympathize with this; our conservatory leaked like crazy, still does, and we were forever setting basins on the floor during a storm and replacing them when they got full.

She goes back downstairs from the dark dark attic to the dark dark house.

She’s going to get back into bed. Do a running jump, don’t let the monster under the bed get you!

THERE ARE WATERY FOOTPRINTS ON THE FLOOR.

DON’T FOLLOW THE FOOTPRINTS, CALL THE POLICE. DON’T FOLLOW THE FOOTPRINTS, CALL THE POLICE. Also, barricade yourself in the bathroom; that’s one thing Darkness Falls got right.

Aaaaand, yes, there goes the arm, which I was not ready for and made me shriek, as the woman is dragged screaming under the bed.

Capture buffet froid
SAVE ME FROM DUST BUNNIES!

By the by, that is a pretty big under-the-bed-area. The bed doesn’t look that big, even if it is a double.

And blood sprays on the floor. Wow, did the killer slit her throat? What caused that?

Also, how did the killer get from the attic to under her bed without her noticing?

Also again, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

I believe I will be getting into bed via running jumps for some nights to come.

Continue reading “So. Hannibal 1×10: ‘Buffet Froid’”

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So. Hannibal 1×07: ‘Sorbet’

Confession time – or at least, I would call this confession time if I didn’t know that most of my fellow audience was doing the same – I spent a good deal of this episode laughing.

Not the flat out laughing I’m plagued with when watching blooper reels or certain panel shows with UK comedians – I am a very easy soul to please – but a constant refrain of “Oh no! fighting its way through hysterical giggles. Plus some genuine amusement as well. I couldn’t help it!

Hannibal’s black humor has never been more evident than this episode, and that’s because quite a lot of ‘Sorbet’ is devoted to Lecter as he prepares for a dinner party he’s due to host, after a plea from a colleague – played so well by Ellen Greene – at a charity concert. (Said charity concert was in aid of Hunger Relief. The irony. You know by now what it does to me.) I won’t say that this is the most we’ve ever seen of Hannibal in one episode, but I do think it’s the most time we’ve ever seen him interacting with people other than the main cast, or just doing things by himself – which just so happens to be preparing for that special evening. We’re taken through what, for Lecter, is a ‘normal’ few days, as he:

  • Engages in recreational activities that make him weep and actually give a standing ovation – causing my first laugh of the evening, as the scene for some reason started inside the opera singer’s throat so that we got a lovely look at what I presume were her vocal cords. (From the trailer, I though that when she did show up she’d be singing ‘Vide cor meum‘, but nope. Perhaps later on.) “What the hell? Oh no, oh no!”
  • Deals with persistent patient Franklin. Lecter’s visible discomfort when coming into close contact with him got, if not a laugh, then some righteous amusement from me. So often Lecter has made me feel discomfort; now I take joy in his. What goes around comes around. “Oh no, Franklin. No! Well, all right, make him feel a little more disgusted with you!”
  • Goes to see his own psychiatrist (and friend?) Bedalia du Maurier, played by the ever wonderful and perfect Gillian Anderson, where she proceeds to get under his skin, somewhat. A surreal experience to see Lecter under analysis this week! I was a tad disappointed with Anderson’s role in this; she was fantastic, of course, but I thought she would have more part to play in the episode than merely one scene. Still, what a scene it is! Bedalia du Maurier – I love that name, I will take the opportunity to write it as often as possible – is not fooled by Hannibal for one instant. She knows he’s wearing a mask or, rather ‘a personal suit’, but hopes that the person inside will get what they need from her without further comment. This might not, in the long run, be Bedalia du Maurier’s wisest decision.
  • Goes…’grocery shopping’. Oh, this scene. This scene will be infamous. And it deserves to be. It will take a lot to top seeing Lecter go through his recipe box, go through his business card index, choose respective courses from each, set off, bring home the bacon – so to speak – prepare the raw materials, parcel them up and put them in the fridge. He repeats this process not once, not twice, but four times, counting that remarkably rude medical examiner he waylays on the road. (And this is just the stuff we see; his fridge is pretty packed by the end.) Every time you think he couldn’t possibly go any further, while secretly anticipating the Rule of Three, here comes another organ, another slice, another chunk popped into the blender!
  • The ironic cuts to Lecter’s cooking also have their own dark humor. One of the victims of the ‘Chesapeake Ripper’s’ latest rampage is missing a spleen; under the mistaken apprehension that the organs are being stolen for medical purposes, one of the team asks in bewilderment: “Who gets a spleen transplant?” And then we all cringe behind our hands – or at least I do – as Lecter whacks on the blender. I don’t know if that was a spleen in there, but there was a good deal of red. And all this loving preparation is carried out to a bombastic operatic soundtrack, showing how much Lecter is delighting in all this and enjoying this harvest. A whole lot of “Oh no“s found their way into the world here, when I managed to stop laughing. “Oh no, oh no, oh god no!”

(Although, really, does everything that Lecter eats – and serves up to other poor unsuspecting fools – have to be human? Could he not add a little variety by having some actual legitimate lamb or chicken in there? For instance, I love love love beef, but I certainly wouldn’t want to eat it every night of the week.

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So: Hannibal 1×02, ‘Amuse-Bouche’

So. Hannibal 1×02, ‘Amuse-Bouche’, repeated again because the archive page won’t show the title for some obscure reason.

I think I was afraid that Hannibal might swiftly become a ‘murder of the week’ formula, so it was a pleasant surprise to see Crawford and Graham picking up where they had left off last time and trying to find the remains of Garret Hobbs’s victims. Really, though, should I have expected them to simply hare off to a new murder inquiry? Watching the reams of paper work in Hot Fuzz has taught me that police work is never that simple.

In addition, Abigail Hobbs is still very much in the picture, in body if not in spirit; she’s now in a coma from loss of blood, thanks to that parting gift of a slit throat from her daddy. Rather in the manner of taking in stray dogs, Will has very much taken this lost and orphaned girl into his heart, staying in her hospital room for quite a few nights as he has. But is his concern that of a rescuer, or that of the father he shot but who refuses to get out of sight and out of mind? The situation’s only more complicated by the revelation that Abigail could possibly have been complicit in her father’s murders – even if Graham is positive that Hobbs killed alone, that doesn’t necessarily mean he hunted alone.

Still, another case lurches out of the ground to scare unsuspecting hikers as well as the audience. The choice of soundtrack for this scene makes your skin crawl, discordant and overlaid with drips that turned into a gush, as a line of dead hands rose out of the earth with hypodermic needles embedded in each one. I though at once of corpse farms, places where the decomposition of bodies is studied…but the colonization of fungus in the bodies soon put that idea to rest, along with any hope that I will ever get around to liking mushrooms.

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