Hannibal: a short study in relationships and aesthetics

POTENTIAL SPOILERS AHEAD

As someone that was fairly active in fandom around 2014, Hannibal has been on my radar for a long time. I always thought it wouldn't be my thing; too dark, too gory, too miserable. However, a recent conversation with a friend of mine - coupled with encouragement from others - piqued my interest. Upon finding out that all three seasons are currently on Amazon Prime Video, I decided to take the plunge. What did I have to lose?

The answer is: my sanity, my free time, and a portion of my headspace that is now occupied by thoughts of this show and nothing else.

In short, Hannibal is one of the most incredible pieces of television that I have ever seen. Yes, it is dark. Yes, it is gory. Yes, it can be miserable. But is is also electrifying. It is thought-provoking and compelling, and throws all of your morals into question. The cinematography is outstanding, and the production design is some of the most beautiful I have ever seen. It is wonderfully written - to the point of obscurity sometimes, but I'll excuse it that - and features an absolutely mesmerising cast, Mads Mikkelsen most of all. It feels like he was born to play this role; he plays Dr Lecter with requisite charm and menace, walking a fine line between danger and seduction in every scene.

I don't want to give you too many spoilers, because I want to encourage more people to watch the show. The more people watch it and the more interest there is surrounding it, the more likely it is to get picked up for a fourth season (in theory). There have been murmurs of another season since the show was cancelled in 2015, and personally I would be happy either way. The ending, as it stands, is perfect for the characters, and feels like a fitting culmination of three seasons' worth of development. On the other hand, I would love to see another season that deals with the aftermath of the finale, because there is definitely a wealth of avenues to be explored.

The show is - like the films - based (at least somewhat) on the Thomas Harris novels. I'm sure most of you are aware of the premise, but I shall explain if not. The show focuses on Will Graham (played by Hugh Dancy), former homicide detective who now teaches forensic classes for the FBI. He has a unique empathic disorder that allows him to inhabit the mind of a murderer; this makes him a valuable asset for the FBI, and he is encouraged to return to field work by Jack Crawford (Laurence Fishburne). He is enlisted alongside Dr Hannibal Lecter (Mads Mikkelsen), former surgeon turned psychiatrist, to effectively profile and hunt serial killers.

That is an extremely rudimentary description. The show's 39 episodes span a number of cases, crime scenes, fights, bodies, and bloodshed. I'd be here for hours if I tried to talk about all of them, and although I would quite happily do that I fear that many of you would be significantly less interested. Thus, there are a few aspects of the show that I'm going to focus on; these being the way that the relationship between Will and Hannibal is constructed, and the show's visual aesthetic.

I want to start off by saying that the relationship that Will and Hannibal have is not particularly healthy. It is built, essentially, upon a foundation of obsession and manipulation. But, that is not to say that what they have isn't genuine, to a degree. The connection between Will and Hannibal, however you wish to categorise it, is one that is inextricable. It transcends the boundaries of normativity and sexuality, existing on a level that is unbeknownst to anyone but themselves. No matter what they've been through, no matter what they've done to one another, they always find their way back to one another.

Will and Hannibal's relationship is one that is, in my opinion, expertly handled. The show does not have any qualms about the fact that they are toxic - both for and to one another - and yet there is this force that keeps drawing them back together. This is, in part, based on the level of mutual understanding that they share. They each have a darkness within them, and it is this darkness that facilitates their connection. Will says himself: "I've never known myself as well as I know myself when I'm with him."

Their relationship has been interpreted in a number of ways - is it romantic, is it platonic, is it sexual - but I don't think any of these labels are particularly relevant or necessary. Even when your dialogue is written to include explicit confessions of love and desire, you will always have naysayers that will write the relationship off as platonic for whatever reason. I'm not trying to do that here; I don't think there is anything platonic about this relationship. It is unconventional, but that doesn't make it any less of a romance.

Perhaps the greatest thing about Hannibal and Will's relationship - beyond the strength and depth of their connection - is the fact that it is allowed to develop. It is not immediate; not by a long shot. Yes, Hannibal is definitely interested in Will on some level from the moment they meet one another, but the nuances and complexities of this interest are given due time to develop throughout the series. What is perhaps most interesting is the way that Will grapples with his own emotions towards Hannibal. He is manipulated by him throughout the first season, framed and incarcerated as a result, and goes through a great deal of pain - emotional and physical - at his behest. The season two finale is perhaps the greatest example of this, and yet season three sees Will literally verbalise his forgiveness.

The show's finale sees the culmination of the Red Dragon arc, and is extremely important for Hannibal and Will's relationship. I don't want to spoil it, but the final scene is one of the most incredible endings I have ever seen; it is beautifully written, shot, soundtracked and acted. It essentially sees Hannibal and Will make the ultimate sacrifice for one another; a conscious sacrifice, and one that they make in tandem.

One of the most striking things about the show and the way that it handles Will and Hannibal's relationship is how present and normalised it is. That may sound strange, so bear with me while I explain what I mean. I'm going to compare Hannibal and Sherlock here, in the way that they navigate the trajectories of their main relationships. I just wrote an essay about queerbaiting on television, in which I used Sherlock as an example. I compared it with Hannibal, which is often considered one of the greatest examples of queer subtext (that, on a level, became text) on television.

The problem with Sherlock is that it implies and insinuates the possibility of queer representation and a queer relationship but never follows through. These insinuations are instead rendered as an exploitative marketing technique, existing for the purpose of attracting a queer or allied audience. The relationship in question is, of course, that of John and Sherlock. It was heavily implied throughout the show that the pair would end up together in some capacity, usually through the dialogue of supporting characters. Mrs Hudson, Irene Adler, Moriarty, Mycroft, Kitty Riley, Janette, Angelo - among others - all question the nature of the pair's relationship at least once each. They are often fairly blunt and overt in their questioning, in ways that are almost uncomfortable to watch, especially when they are so often rebutted by John Watson's furious assertions of his heterosexuality. In Sherlock, sexuality becomes a spectacle, as does the relationship between John and Sherlock. Not only that, but it is an exploitative, manipulative spectacle that is used to prey on and 'bait' fans and viewers.

The contrast between this and the way that Hannibal handles its main relationship is stark. Neither Hannibal nor Will ever try to deny the nature of what they feel for one another. They may navigate it in their own ways, but they do not deny it. Others pick up on their connection and address it as such, but never in the same manner that they do in Sherlock. Sherlock makes a big deal out of the fact that the relationship in question is queer; Hannibal never does that. Neither Will nor Hannibal's sexuality is ever explicitly stated or even brought into question: because it is not relevant. All that is relevant is the fact that they share a connection that is proven to transcend sexuality; a connection that exists on a plane that only they inhabit, on a level that only they can understand.

Will and Hannibal's relationship is one of the most enticing things about the show, that is without a doubt. Another, however, is the show's visual aesthetic. Hannibal is often hailed as one of the most beautiful shows on television, and this is not an unfair or unjust assessment. This is something that I'm interested in writing about properly in the future, so I don't want to go into too much depth here. However, I couldn't write this piece and not talk about the show's stunning visuals.

One of Hannibal's defining traits is the way that it balances this dichotomy of fascination and aesthetic pleasure with repugnance and disgust. This is prevalent in the show's aesthetic landscape, particularly in the scenes where Hannibal is cooking. Now, we all know he's a cannibal, and that the food he is preparing is comprised of human ingredients. The show drives home this point by showing gruesome scenes of Hannibal handling organs, the brutality of which is undercut when he transforms them into stunning dishes that are always beautifully presented. Rationally, we know that he is preparing human meat and that we wouldn't want to eat it - but when he presents a finished plate that looks as perfect as they always do, you are a little bit tempted (I'm vegan; I of course mean this in an aesthetic sense).

This aforementioned dichotomy is further expressed through the show's exquisite cinematography and elaborate portrayal of even the most gruesome crime scenes. Bryan Fuller describes this as 'elegant horror', which I think is a very apt description. Crime scenes become eerily beautiful; one such scene involves a man being entwined with a cherry blossom, his chest open and devoid of organs, the cavity instead filled with brightly coloured flowers. The show hinges upon this idea of finding beauty in death, exemplified through its more lurid and spectacular tableaus.

In this way, Hannibal's visual landscape really plays with your comfort - or lack thereof. As mentioned previously, it feels strange to find his meals so beautiful when you know that they are reprehensible. Something else that the show plays with is the subversion of the mundane into something grotesque and macabre. This happens a few times; with the man-tree hybrid; with a mushroom garden that turns out to be growing from the graves of diabetics that were buried alive; even the act of milk being poured into coffee, resembling an anatomical heart. Hannibal is not afraid to push you to the boundaries of comfort, nor is it afraid to make you question your own morals and ethics along with those of its characters. Its visual landscape does much to exemplify the murky moral space that it inhabits, with all of its dark aesthetics and exploitations of negative space. I'm sure you'll agree, whether you've seen it or not, that it is one of the most visually stunning shows on television.

There really is so much more that could be said about Hannibal. I tried to take this review in a bit of a different direction; I'd usually give a bit of summary alongside my analysis. I tried writing this review in a similar way, but there's just so much to talk about that it became tangled up in explanation. There is a lot of content (storylines, character arcs etc.) to navigate, and doing so without rambling proved very difficult. So, with some help, I tried to cut it back a bit and focus on the parts of the show that are particularly enticing.

I hope that I was successful in conveying just how much I loved this show. Like I said at the top of this review, I was originally doubtful as to whether I would enjoy it or not. I'm glad that I finally took the plunge, and did so without purposefully trying to spoil it for myself. I've mentioned before that I'm wont to researching a film or show before I watch, but I tried not to do that here. I'm glad I didn't; it made the experience far more worthwhile.

Have you watched Hannibal? If you have, what did you think? If not, do you think you might give it a go? Let me know either way - @rac_on_film on Insta and Twitter, and Rac on Film on Facebook! Thanks for reading, have a good one.