It has happened again. I have become obsessed with a fictional character. Well, two of them really, but I identify far too much with Will Graham to find him more than incredibly interesting — I see much of myself in him so he cannot hold true fascination like Hannibal does.
It has come as no surprise to my friends that a psychopath has started haunting my dreams. Who is Nat if not the woman irresistibly attracted to the darkness? (Quoting one of them)
Hannibal is remarkable intelligence, incomparable charm and supreme elegance. He tilts his head, reclines in his chair, walks across the room…every move he makes is imbued with style, he is grace personified. For someone like me who is interested in fashion, Hannibal Lecter is a gift – I have quasi-orgasmic moments with each and every suits he wears. Even his “fights scenes”, few and far between, are choreographed to look like a particular violent type of ballet. I learnt today that Mads Mikkelsen (the actor who plays Hannibal) is a former dancer, it did not surprise me at all. Also, as a side note, his cheekbones are to die for and deserve a mini-series of their own.
Very much of the TV show Hannibal is filmed to appear as visual poetry. The Minnesota landscape shots are of the beautifully bleak sort, even the gory bits (which I’m not at all a fan of) are spectacularly done. The visuals, the soundtrack, the writing and the acting are all splendid.
Then, of course, we have the psychology – the thing that ultimately retains my attention. There is nothing new with a monster crying at the Opera but Hannibal’s incomprehensible “real” nature is underlined perfectly by his intoxicating charm and brilliant mind. His own fascination (obsession even) with Will Graham—the ultimate empath who understands how serial killers operate—does not prevent him from emotionally torturing him and taking him to the brink of madness. Simply because he can. Simply because he has finally found somebody worthy to “play with”.
The turmoil I felt when I watched Will tell Hannibal: “I didn’t know which was worst. Knowing I had done this…or knowing you had done this…to me. I wanted to trust you. I needed to trust you.”
Oh, Will…I understand! While Hannibal stood there listening to this heartbreaking speech and feeling no remorse whatsoever for what he has put his “friend” through.
Last night I dreamt about Hannibal, I fear I shall forever be fascinated by monsters who cannot be changed. I may forever try to understand them even though there is no understanding to be had. I may forever be attracted to the despair, and the pain and the dark.
If you haven’t seen Hannibal yet, go watch it. The odds are you’ll enjoy it, even if you’re fortunate enough not to be an empath like I am, even if you’re not “crazy intense” like me.