DUE TO VIOLENT CONTENT, VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.
I think this requires an ever-so-subtle revision: "Due to skin-crawling terror, ridiculous eye-fucking, and soul-crushing plot twists, extreme caution is advised."
ILU, Bryan Fuller. In the same, healthy way Hannibal loves Will Graham. <3
Last time, on Hannibal: It's a great week for fishing-- the bodies are really biting out there. Hannibal is hurt because Will is mad about being in jail and won't be his friend anymore. Totally unreasonable. Bedelia thinks she knows what Hannibal is capable of, but she's probably only worked through the R-rated version-- we all know there's one out there rated triple-X. Yet another one of our lovely rogues' gallery is out there coating bodies in resin and calling it art. Meredith's sense of body horror has ratcheted significantly since this season started.
[+] And we open back on the KOW's (Killer Of the Week) hideout, a grain silo in the middle of Nowhere. I watched this episode on Friday, went to bed, and then got up on Saturday for a four-hour long drive up through Licking County. The landscape of said drive is flat, filled with endless farmland, and features many a creepy old homestead. And barns, with silos. Hahaha, for once the billboard greeting one near Columbus ("HELL IS REAL, SINNERS!") was not the scariest thing about the trip. ;-)
I'm going to zap our victim's semi-triumphant escape, because I spent most of the live version with my head buried in the couch cushions.
[+] Cut to
WILL: "I've lost the plot."
You are not the only one, sugarbee.
He goes on to say he's an unreliable narrator (is there any other kind? ^_~), essentially composing a free-form ballad with which he then serenades Hannibal
HANNIBAL: "Without remembering, you are seized by something imagined." (Which is, FYI, my wendigo avatar, though I'm really starting to think I'd like to start personally seizing you, myself.)
WILL: "I'm not sure which is worse; believing I did it, or… [artistic, measured pause] believing you did. And… did this to me."
ALANA: Hannibal isn't responsible for this Will blah-blah blippity-blah, I so hope you're prepared to eat those words in uncooked people-food, you sanctimonious bitch.
(I'm sorry, I will try to keep my hatred for Alana more tightly reigned. I blame her for Abigail's death, in many ways, because she so thoroughly isolated the young woman and created an environment in which Hannibal seemed the only source of comfort. Some therapist.)
So, Will has what looks like a classic moment where his personal reality suddenly dovetails with the version accepted by everyone around him, which is again what everyone wants to see. Hannibal actually seems to be restraining himself from moving closer, and is quick to assure Will he can trust him. (He's a professional fox, dudes-- totally qualified to watch the chicken coup.) Will is trembling and crying, and it's a good thing Alana's there, because I think Hannibal just had a brain-gasm.
[+] Cut to Will, still trembling, being herded into his cell. Once alone, the facade drops to reveal a dark, intense look of concentration.
And THAT, ladies and gents, is my BOY. Screw him back, Will, and do it hard! *unexpected pr0n music* Yeah… didn't mean it to come out that way.
[+] Int: Hannibal's office. Which, now that I think of it, also has really questionable lighting. The last therapist I went to had an overwhelming number of plush armchairs (I picked the only hard-wood one ^_~), bright and ill-done renders of Chinese glyphs, and more springy-flower things than you can shake a stick at. I know this isn't a requirement, and it doesn't suit Hannibal or his clientele at ALL, but really? Look at the little jade horse, not to mention the creepy stag-statue and Hannibal's all-mahogany office chair.
BEDELIA: "I won't be staying long […] We don't have a next session." Because you keep calling out Will's name during
Seriously, the next time I decide I don't want anything to do with someone, I'm gonna tell them that I've reached the end of my efficacy in assisting them. Take that, creepy dude from the copying-room!
Hannibal's expression actually becomes more blank. How does he do it.
Also, Dr. Lecter, aren't you too bourgeoisie to stoop to physically intimidating women like a random thug? To Bedelia's credit, she may back up, but she doesn't back down.
[+] Seriously, our escapee-victim's name was Roland Umber? Umber, as in the color brown? *headbang* And he survived what should have been a heroine overdose because he's a recovering addict! [sarcasm] I'm sure that totally means he deserved it! [/sarcasm] That's just the icing on the cake, isn't it? To be getting by, day by day, on that miracle of self-restraint, only to have some psycho forcibly bit that crap back in your system. *waves middle finger at the universe at large*
This show triggers me, I am not going to lie.
I very much enjoy Hannibal's little 'oh-am-i-in-the-way?' shuffle, though. Beverly's "excuse me" really means 'do your rubber-necking from the sidelines' and Jimmy is barely restraining himself from asking what the French term for 'asshole' is. ^_^
Hannibal is extremely cross that Beverly thought she could play with his toys, though.
[+] Oh, look, it's like a painting, Morgue Slab With Cornfield. How fucking picturesque.
[+] Hannibal wants a playmate with Will, because he's feeling slighted. He's supposed to stay on the opposite side of the line, though, because apparently some patients have been scent-marking. ^_~ (I spent the weekend with three dogs, three cats, and a cockatoo. One of these dogs was new and unfamiliar with the rest of the 'pack'. Let's just say, there was a LOT of pee.)
WILL: I'm not interested in a pissing contest with you, Doctor Lecter.
HANNIBAL: Really? You've accommodated some of my more outrageous kinks, I think I could learn to enjoy golden showers, for you. *insert tiny little <3*
Hannibal is still bitter about Will's little 'friendship' jab. Will points out the power differential, but then soothes it over with a "but we're just having conversations". Like Amber said, I totally want to high-five the screen. ;-)
Hannibal asks Will if he found something in his head to incriminate the Doctor. Will is all 'do do, dah dah, nope just a really distressing vision of you forcing a tube down my throat, la la la.'
And now that they've established they're besties again, Hannibal leans in (he takes the initiative, and then Will leans forward, which is unbelievably telling) and asks Will what he saw. This is the payoff for all of Hannibal's scheming. He gets to have Will (almost) all to himself, on a high shelf where its hard for others to play with him. (Yeah, Beverly Katz got in, but Hannibal has already reminded Will that he can put a stop to it via Alana any time. And there's Chilton, but Lecter has that asshole well in hand.) Hannibal doesn't have to worry about Will 'discovering' him, because it's already happened and no one believes him. He's convinced Will is starting to doubt this discovery. Best of all, they can play for hours and hours and Hannibal will never have to worry about being 'forced' to kill Will Graham in self preservation. It's almost the perfect set up. True, Hannibal can't drag his very best toy to bed with him, but Lecter doesn't really strike me as the teddy-bear type anyway.
(*Wow… scary mental image. Especially since so much of the fandom already calls Will 'Teddy Grahams')
[+] Oh, G-d bless Beverly. It's a damn shame she and Will didn't have a chance to get a little closer in season one, because they're the only two people on this show willing to call one another on their bullshit. And she'd be great at sit-in protests, because she ain't going nowhere.
[+] Hannibal's taking a nice little stroll in his shiny plastic suit. It has a fucking Mandarin collar. And cuffs. I think I speak for the entire universe when I say, "REALLY, Hannibal?.
"I love your work!" Ahahahahaha… there's no god.
That's right, Jack-- just stand there pondering Lecter's fortune-cookie wisdom and completely miss the part where he's the cause of said 'existential crisis.
[+] KILLER: There is no god.
HANNIBAL: Certainly not with that attitude.
I take ontological advice from serial killers all the time, lemme tell you. ^_~ Meanwhile, Will cleverly solves the case while appearing as though he no longer suspects Hannibal, and our good Doctor rhapsodizes about how nice it is to have friends.
FBI Lady, meanwhile, isn't anybody's friend, and she is seriously interrupting Will's time corpse-fishing. Bedelia plants a little land-mine before taking off for parts unknown. Look at that-- she's wearing a red jacket, which I think is the first splash of color we've seen on her.
And so, I'll leave you with what Amber so perfectly pointed out as the best damn line so far: