Hannibal, Season 3 Episode 9: And the Woman Clothed with the Sun...

"Family values have declined over the last half century but we still help our families when we can. You are family, Will."

Whether Will Graham wants it or not, Hannibal has become his twisted brother. In the early meetings between the two men, they discuss the murders committed by the Red Dragon and even though they remain civil, they relate to one another like brothers who purposefully haven't spoken in years. No one knows them better than the other and it almost feels like a waste that the two remain so reserved with one another now. Though Will is certainly the more guilty of the two. It's ironic that Will, consistently portrayed as a singular man through the entire show is now reaching out to Hannibal when he actually has a family of his own. There are plenty of narrative, expository reasons why Will visits Hannibal but ultimately it is because he needs him. Will has built a family member out of Hannibal and he seeks him even now that he has a real alternative. Hannibal takes Will's appearance with joyful malice, making it clear that he knows of Will's new life and that he certainly does not approve. On the contrary. Hannibal mocks Will's new life and even compares him to the Red Dragon. "Like you Will, he needs a family to escape what's inside him."

The family motif of the episode is compounded with the reappearance of Abigail Hobbes. She arrives after the mention that, in a way, Will has already had a child and it doesn't take much to remember how true this is. The entire first season of the show is motivated by Will's guilt over killing Abigail's father even though he was a psychopath. But here we see another angle of Abigail's upbringing. Hannibal as father. Strange flashbacks which ride a thin line between real and imaginary tell a story of the kind of twisted love that Lecter showed Abigail in private moments. He cleans and dresses her wounds. He teaches her the tricks of his trade (blood splatter, of course) and eventually he murders her and Abigail dies yet again. Hannibal reminds Will that families all have their own versions of love. To an outsider things might appear bizarre or cruel but to those inside the circle they are the purest acts of affection they may ever know. 

Enter Francis Dolarhyde. The Red Dragon grew from a boy raised by an incredibly cruel grandmother. Even though he despises her and the way he was raised, he still fears her and holds many of her values close to his heart. His method of killing has him place mirrors in his victim's eyes. He wants these families to see him and embrace him. He wants to belong somewhere. So much so in fact that he reaches out to a coworker, Reba McClane, a blind woman. He takes comfort in the fact that she cannot see his face as he is disgusted by his appearance. The irony is not lost on us that two people who are visually impaired in their own ways both work at a film processing plant where images are developed and human faces are everywhere. 

Hannibal, Season 3 Episode 8: The Great Red Dragon

Tom Noonan. 

Ralph Fiennes.

Richard Armitage. 

There are the men who have worn the name Tooth Fairy. By this point I've read the novel and seen the two film adaptations of Thomas Harris' Red Dragon and have the plot pretty much memorized. Brett Ratner's adaptation felt like a less interesting copy of Michael Mann's Manhunter rather than a new take on an old story. Yet even with this plot buried in my bones I couldn't help but be excited to see how Bryan Fuller would make the story his own. So far I haven't been disappointed. 

Having Francis Dolarhyde as the series' first new killer makes sense. He plays a foil to Hannibal in a way. He's intelligent and meticulous but unlike Hannibal, he's totally out of his own control. It's interesting too that after having so many long winded villains in the series, the final one we're faced with is nearly mute. He doesn't have a single line in his first episode. His silent nature isn't just a personality trait, it's more deeply rooted in his traumatic upbringing. It shaped him and explains his main motivation. He believes, through killing and "transforming" his victims, he may transform himself from a mentally abused man with a cleft pallet into something else. Something invincible. Something that in his mind has taken the form of the famous figure in William Blake's The Great Red Dragon and the Woman Clothed in Sun, a painting depicting a scene from the Book of Revelation. It is one of a series of four paintings that tells the story of the Red Dragon failing at his purpose to steal the newly born Redeemer, yet revealing that his is not the only threat. Which is, of course, perfect for this series. Because he's not the only threat. In fact, he's barely the real threat at all. That spot will always be held by Hannibal. 

It has been three years since Hannibal's surrender and imprisonment when Francis Dolarhyde begins murdering whole families at the full moon. It is chilling to learn that his targets are always families and even more chilling to learn that Will now has one of his own. This could be looked at simply from an academic, story structure point of view. Will sees families being murdered so of course why wouldn't he go back to a world that almost broke him in order to protect his own. The motivations make sense. But I like to see it more from a prophetic point of view since that always seems to be the stance that this series has taken. Will's life is inevitably always going to wrap itself around or inside of Hannibal's. So when Dolarhyde begins his killings, he does so as an instrument of fate. Will cannot be free. Not while Hannibal lives. Even if he's living in imprisonment. Because let's not forget he allowed himself to be put there. 

Once Will gives the okay to return to the FBI we're quickly reminded why he was so hesitant. He enters the home of the first family of victims, the Leeds and struggles to enter Dolarhyde's design. But once he does we're shown a sequence that might be the darkest the show has ever been. Blood splatters everywhere and Will is shown shooting two children in their sleep. He places mirrors in Mrs. Leeds mouth, eyes, and labia and it's important to note that at this point Bryan Fuller has made what I think is a wonderful decision to downplay the sexual violence that made Harris' novel famous. There is never any direct depiction or even mention of rape in Hannibal. Instead Fuller asks his audience to read between the lines. His restraint makes this series far more palatable but almost a lot more horrifying all at once. Nothing is scarier than our own imaginations.

Speaking of horror, The Descent's Neil Marshall directs this episode, his first time behind the camera on Hannibal. Even though James Hawkinson's eye is essential to the look and tone of the series, Marshall's influence is felt all over "The Great Red Dragon," in particular flourishes with sound design. Most importantly, he's found a way of filming Richard Armitage that depicts his often naked or barely clothed character the same way we've grown so accustomed to seeing the female form portrayed on TV. Blake's painting is immediately visceral and sexual to anyone that takes the time to look at it and it's brilliant the way that this series works to overly sexualize the male form to the point of making it terrifying. The show has always done it but never better than in this episode. It's one of the best changes that Fuller has brought to this familiar story.

On the subject of change, the series' version of Hannibal's experience is probably my favorite. Hannibal's imprisonment is far more interesting to watch because we experience it from his point of view. That is to say, we get to live in the mind of a kind of genius and so we get to watch him share a glass of wine with Alana in a beautifully decorated room for much of a scene before we get Alana's take on everything and see the truth. Hannibal has no wine. No beautiful room. But he's using his mental palace as a way of remaining in control of his situation. Almost every scene that Hannibal occupies begins this way and it's a great little addition to Fuller's legend of Lecter. But of course, the show must go on and so after an entire episode of new plot developments and catching up we get what we were waiting for all along: Will must go and speak with Hannibal. 

Hannibal, Season 3 Episode 7: Digestivo

"Digestivo" feels more like a season finale than a mid season episode. The last six episodes have been methodical in assembling pieces and moving them around the series' board in order to get all of Hannibal's characters to this point, but it's been seriously worth the wait. 

This is by far one of the best episodes of the show to date and it was apparent going into it based on "Dolce's" ending. Mason Verger plays the most typically villainous character this series has introduced and that's saying something. He lays out his plan in a typical fashion too, telling Hannibal that he'll eat him piece by piece and take Will's face to use as his own. This level of evil does less to inspire fear in Will and Hannibal as it does to bring them together. They know now more than ever they need each other to survive. Will goes so far as to bite off part of a man's face in self defense and Hannibal looks at him like a proud father. The look on Mads Mikkelsen's face actually brought a smile to my own.

Genuine insanity ensues as the episode goes on. Hannibal is tied up and treated like livestock. Will is prepared for surgery to have his entire face removed. Knowledge that there is a Verger child after all is only seen as a mild surprise after it is revealed that the child is being carried by a comatose pig. It is actually amazing that in a show that focuses so strongly on its male leads, it's the women who manage to save the day. Alana and Margot go to Hannibal's paddock and address him like the animal he appears to be. They release him on the condition that he'll use his banshee-like powers for their own purposes. Hannibal's happily agrees. So after being unleashed upon the Verger estate, Hannibal murders Mason's surgeon (though not before removing his face instead of Will's), milks Mason's semen as a gift for Margot, feeds Mason to his pet eel, and finally takes Will away from all of this madness and danger, all the while aided by Chiyo, providing covering fire with a sniper rifle. It's the most thrilling sequence in a television show I've seen in ages.

Hannibal and Alana even manage to have a reunion where they finally are able to come to an understanding between one another. Alana finally realizes what Hannibal truly is: he's an enigma she'll never even hope to solve. But she's fine with that because she sees that somewhere inside of him there is humanity hiding, only rearing its head when absolutely necessary. 

Will and Hannibal get their own bit of closure as well. Will finally releases himself from his obsession with Hannibal. He finally understands there is nothing but death and darkness on that road. Hannibal lives on a similar road but because he embraces that death and darkness it's never seemed quite as terrifying to him. Jack explains to Chiyo at one point in the episode that Will and Hannibal are "identically different;" the perfect description. Will finally breaks away from Hannibal and by doing so is finally released from Hannibal's control. It is a moment of sheer triumph for Will that the show has been working towards for two and a half seasons now, even though when the police arrive to take Hannibal away, they find him gone. They question Jack and Will and just when the man hunt seems about to begin anew, Hannibal appears and surrenders. Hannibal has always ever only let people believe they are in control of him. It's incredibly fitting that even now at the end of everything, Hannibal doesn't lose. After everything they still didn't 'catch' him. The episode ends with what I really wish were the last line of the entire series. Hannibal gets to his knees with guns drawn on him. He looks at Jack, and then past Jack at Will before saying "I want you to always know where I am. Where you can always find me." It's one of the most chilling lines of the series and there is still so much more to come. In fact, the last act of Bryan Fuller's Hannibal is actually the legend's first. The Great Red Dragon. 

Hannibal, Season 3 Episode 6: Dolce

Seeing Hannibal walk away from Jack with open wounds was a jarring experience and it took this week's episode, "Dolce", to help cement what it really meant. "Contorno's" bulletin finale was designed to make viewer's understand that we were entering completely new territory. No one was safe anymore. Not even Hannibal himself. The first four episodes of this season exist to move characters around on a story arc chess board. It just took this long for this to be clear because Bryan Fuller and his team managed to do an ingenious job of hiding exposition behind the best cinematography and editing the show has achieved thus far. Not to mnetion dialogue so vague and mysterious it could only die-hard fans could assemble the puzzle from the pieces provided. Bedelia has been warning Hannibal all along that he's been flirting with disaster and now, finally, disaster had chosen to respond.

Bedelia herself is a huge part of "Dolce" and with good reason. It seems to be the last episode Gillian Anderson will occupy and she goes out with a bang. Even after everything that Hannibal has done to her, she still doesn't want to be directly responsible for his downfall. There's a kind of love there that no one, not even Bedelia, fully understands. Knowing her own limitations when it comes to creating an alibi for herself and her supposed husband, Hannibal, Bedelia shoots heroin to keep herself from revealing the truth. The beauty of this sequence is even though she's helping Hannibal, she's ultimately just trying to free herself from him and after providing a wonderful performance and a sultry and silly alibi, she finally does it.

We also learn this episode the full meaning of Margot's motivations. She wants a child more than anything and has developed a physical (at the very least) relationship with Alana in order to help her get it. A kaleidoscopic sex sequence helps what could have been a blunt elbow to the ribs sequence become something much more and this reason isn't much of a surprise. Hannibal has always been skilled at taking expository sequences and masking them behind mind bending visual effects which make for great TV watching and force the audience to keep their minds open while they watch in order to absorb every detail.

The final storyline in the episode follows Hannibal as he nurses Will's wounds. That is, until he realizes that if he doesn't act on what has become an obsession with eating Will Graham, he'll certainly miss his chance. So follows the most jaw dropping ending sequence the medium of television has seen in a long time. Hannibal has Will drugged and strapped to a chair, forcing Jack (who's achilles tendon has been slashed) to watch as he saws open Will's skull. And as if the show realized when it's audience simply couldn't take it anymore the scene just stops. Suddenly we find ourselves pushed ahead through time, though how much time we don't know, and Hannibal and Will are the prisoners of Mason Verger. It's almost too much to take. What on earth could happen next?

Hannibal, Season 3 Episode 5: Contorno

At the end of Hannibal's second season, Jack Crawford (Laurence Fishburne) sneaks up on an unsuspecting Hannibal Lecter with the intention of arresting him and finds the killer is anything but unprepared. What ensues is a brutal acrobatic Battle Royale between the two of them in Hannibal's kitchen which results in Jack being stabbed in the neck and surely on a quick route to the grave. Last week's catch up episode, "Apertivo" actually did the impossible by bringing Jack back from the presumed dead and it's much to the show's benefit. Jack announces his presence by kicking Hannibal's ass.

The fight, which feels more like a dance due to the musical and fluid fight choreography, begins with Jack looking up through a window at Hannibal on the second floor. Jack has spent the episode getting used to life after his wife Bella has lost her battle with cancer. He follows Hannibal's trail to Italy and comes to know Inspector Pazzi and his wife only to lose his newfound friend to Hannibal who executes the man by hanging him (but not before disemboweling him). Perhaps it is this sight that causes Jack to dance with Hannibal so furiously and more importantly, to actually beat him. For one of the only times in the series' history, Hannibal is defeated. He manages to escape and in the moments before fully retreating he mirrors his position with Jack at the duel's onset. Now he stands below looking up at Jack, his position solidifying his status as the loser.

This entire sequence serves as a reminder that forces are finally closing in around Hannibal. He escapes Jack but really only by sheer luck. Hannibal is nearly always in charge of the world around him so even though at this point in the series he is the villain, this change has turned him into the underdog and he actually inspires sympathy. "Contorno" has Hannibal finally realizing that, yes, he is pulling his enemies to him, but it's no longer by his own design. He is quickly becoming the source of his own undoing and by the end of this episode that fact becomes clear to him. His relationship with Alana Bloom has given her knowledge of his tastes that few have and those facts allowed her to track him to Florence. Jack uses traditional, gumshoe fact finding and police work, though most of it is Pazzi's, to locate Hannibal. And Will is spurred on for an incalculable number of reasons but after Chiyo pushes him off of a train, it is Will's mental conjuring of Hannibal's spirit, a stag, that actual gets him up and moving again. This makes perfect sense. Will must the final straw in the battle against Hannibal. If Hannibal is going to lose it will be by Will's hand. That is why Hannibal was able to escape Jack. That is why no matter what happens to Hannibal in the next few episodes, the only time there were will ever be any real risk will be when he's in Will's presence. He is the only one who can fell the beast.

Hannibal, Season 3 Episode 4: Aperitivo

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

This episode's opening scene is pure magic. Dr. Chilton and Mason Verger, two characters who should surely be dead after the events that concluded Hannibal's second season, find themselves having a bedside chat. Verger, nearly eaten alive by a pack of hungry boars, has little more than scar tissue on the bottom half of his face. Chilton, shot point blank by Miriam Lass, removes a prosthetic that emulates a cheek bone and half a jaw. Both men are drastically disfigured and their appearances are the literal representations of the other characters that reappear in this episode. All of the survivors of Hannibal's reign of terror are permanently scarred. None of them are whole.

In a season full of unexpected moves, Apertivo tries the most unexpected of all by having an entire episode without the show's titular character. It does finally manage to shed some light onto the fallout that came from the massacre that concluded season 2 though so I can't be entirely frustrated by this fact. Honestly, the audacity of a show completely unwilling to reveal what happened to nearly half its cast for three episodes is worth salivating over. In a world where television seems only to cater to its audience, to simply provide a distraction rather than reinvent or challenge what we're all used to, Hannibal is the freshest breath of air I've had since Mad Men. And as fresh as this decision is "Apertivo" winds up being the least inventive of what Hannibal has done so far this season. It's almost entirely expository, not that that's not a bad thing. The episode almost works at its own personal breath of fresh air after the waking nightmare that has been the first three episodes this season.

Will and Hannibal still don't meet but a reunion of a different and equally important nature does occur. Will and Alana Bloom find themselves together in Hannibal's former home. Utilizing one of the prettiest color palettes the series has ever employed (in a show that is already disgustingly gorgeous) Alana and Will have a melancholy conversation about forgiveness. More accurately, forgiving Hannibal for what he's done so that Will can continue benefitting from his exposure to the killer. Will even comments on their "mutually unspoken pact to ignore the worst in each other to continue to enjoy the best". This solidifies a notion that this season has been hinting at all along. Will and Hannibal are the flip sides of a coin. The light and dark of each other. Without the other they can't fully exist.

But enough about Will and Hannibal. They're the furthest thing from the focus of "Apertivo". This episode wants to catch up with everyone else because the most broken character we get to the meet this season is Alana Bloom. Physically she's doing fine (all things considered), except she walks with a limp and requires a cane. But as a character, as a person, she's entirely changed. She disguises the woman we knew, in much the same way that Verger and Chilton disguise their physical weaknesses, because Alana sees her former self as a weakness. It can be the only reason she's assumed this new persona. A much stronger, more severe persona that won't ever be fooled or taken advantage of again. This point is underlined made in maybe the best line of the episode: "You cannot see what you will not see. Until it throws you out a window." She embodies this in every way. Her clothes are bright, primary colored and make her look like a 1940's femme fatale. She's covered in make-up and lip stick as if she's proud of the fact that she's masking her true self. Most important of all is the fact that once the episode has moved all of its pieces, we learn that Alana is actually the main motivator for revenge for both Chilton and Verger. She's pushing the both of them over the edge.

This entire episode works at a follow up to Bedelia's line to Hannibal in last week's episode. He is drawing all of these characters to him and even though they are all fueled by their respective forms of revenge and forgiveness, it all seems to be playing into Hannibal's design. What's more daunting is this series generally likes to work with two story arcs per season and we're almost halfway home. Something big is coming. Something bloody.

Hannibal, Season 3 Episode 3: Secondo

We all fear what we don't understand. Looking into the unknown has always been one of the greatest sources of humanity's unrest. So much so that many writers and creators like to work that mystery into characters, locations, and forces in their respective art forms. One of Hannibal's biggest sources of power as a villainous character stems from the knowledge that we have none about him. No one really knows where exactly Hannibal Lecter came from. He's like evil stuck out of time. Hannibal Lecter isn't a person with evil qualities. He is a force of evil.

Now that entire prelude is really just a way of saying that when the twenty minute mark hits in Secondo and Will finds himself in Hannibal's childhood home, I was very worried that the writers would attempt to rationalize his evil ways. To legitimize and humanize his character into something less than what I've grown to love and fear all at once. Shortly after having that feeling I had another much stronger one. And that was guilt. I felt like a traitor to Bryan Fuller who's been dazzling me all along when it comes to his version of Hannibal and I can't believe I didn't allow myself to just go along for the ride because Secondo doesn't give up any secrets at all. This episode manages to give us a quick tour of Hannibal's past without ever trying to explain away the kind of person he is. In fact, it reinforces the already terrifying things we know about Hannibal. He's a manipulative monster whose powers know no limit. Will learns that quite quickly when he meets Chiyoh, handmaiden to Hannibal's aunt. She's been tasked with guarding a prisoner who, according to Hannibal, murdered and ate his sister. This isn't true but Hannibal has a way of telling a story that transcends lies vs. truth. He takes a crime he is likely guilty of and manages to weigh down an innocent party with guilt built out of sorrow and humanity. Hannibal understands everyone he comes into contact with and always knows how best to handle them. Will Graham happens to be the first person he's ever encountered who's able to break down the persona that Hannibal has built to show himself to the world. He explains to Chiyoh that the story Hannibal fed her about his sister's death is a lie and more importantly, it's one of the smallest he's ever told. Hannibal killed and ate his sister Mischa but in no way was she the starting point, nor, really any kind of explanation for the man he is. She's just another one of his victims. A bloody drop in the bucket.

Secondo is a piece-moving episode and is legitimized by watching the episodes that follow it. This third season of Hannibal is moving those characters all around the board that is the killer's life. Once the truth is revealed, Will finds an ally in Chiyoh but manages to turn her into a murderer in the same motion. He convinces her to free her prisoner and then she kills him out of self defense. This story arc is paralleled with another murder by Hannibal's hand but this time Bedelia is as much a participant as he is. So even though Will's intentions are good he and Hannibal are so star crossed that they affect those around them in exactly the same ways. Will and Hannibal will do anything, even unconsciously, to get closer to each other. And this is Will's plan, slowly falling into place. The only way to beat Hannibal is to match him. They must perform on the same plane if they're going to find one another and truly have their war.

Hannibal, Season 3 Episode 2: Primavera

In many ways, Primavera is a companion piece to this season's first episode, "Antipasto". The first episode provides insight into Hannibal and Bedelia's flight across Europe and how they've been living since the massacre that concluded season two. This second episode does nearly the exact same thing but shifts its focus toward Will Graham (Hugh Dancy) and the thought-to-be deceased Abigail Hobbs (Kacey Rohl). We learn of the medical magic woven to keep Will alive but even though we're privy to the surgeon's workings, we get no further understanding of what really happens after season two's finale and have no idea of the fate's of either Jack Crawford (Laurence Fishburne) or Alana Bloom (Caroline Dhavernas). Once again though, Hannibal quickly reminds the audience that this series really doesn't care what the viewers want to know. In a show that's so heavily focused on murder investigations, it never gives in to the audience's desire for more information. It's a genius form of forcing the viewer into Will Graham's mind. This season only benefits by adopting the attitude of not caring one bit who it hurts. 

Tonally the episode is a mirror image of the premiere but presentation-wise it's anything but. Where "Antipasto" is elegant, clean, and arousing, "Primavera" is confused (in a good way), messy, and very distressing. The entire episode is handled as if through Will's own fractured psyche and it makes for some truly insane viewing. Will's visions take up enormous portions of the episode. One particular vision involves a shattering tea cup and I truly thought it was going to blow out my sound system. Sound design is often overlooked on television and Hannibal is a series that never underestimates the true power of using music and sound to jolt the viewer out of the comfort of their living room. 

The similarities continue in pairing a female figure alongside the male protagonist. The pairing in both cases is an odd one. Bedelia is Hannibal's hostage. So is Abigail, though not by Will's hand. Will and Abigail find themselves constantly bound together but where her exposure to Will keeps landing her in lethal situations Will needs her to be his muse. Since the series' first episode Abigail has always been the force driving Will forward. Being responsible for killing her father, Will sidesteps the fact that Garrett Jacob Hobbes was a psychopath and instead views his tie to Abigail as a life debt. Unfortunately Will's patronage has wound up getting Abigail's throat slit on two separate occasions now. 

Another great mirror in this episode is the introduction of Inspector Rinaldo Pazzi (played by Fortunato Cerlino, who I'm always happy to see after first meeting him in the Italian mob film, Gomorrah). Will meeting Pazzi is important and not just to forward the plot. Pazzi is a man obsessed, just like Will. They've both had significant brushes with Hannibal and both have allowed those brushes to consume their lives. Pazzi met Hannibal years and years ago as the hunch suspect to a murder as artfully composed as any in the series. Hannibal's youth was spent murdering and then arranging his victims into art pieces. The episode takes its title from Botticelli's Primavera and Hannibal arranges two people into the poses of Chloris and Zephyrus (close up here). This visual gives a great echo of a line from the premiere that I quoted in my last article. "You no longer have ethical concerns, Hannibal. Only aesthetical ones." It's appropriate that at this point in the series this is the earliest of Hannibal's deeds brought to light. Botticelli's painting represents the birth of spring so why not having Hannibal's first chronological murder be so tied to the birth of something? Even if that birth is that of a monster. Inspector Pazzi also allows for another tie to the first episode of this season. Pazzi is a constant reminder that Will must find Hannibal to achieve any kind of completeness in his life. When Hannibal and Bedelia met Dimmond (Tom Wisdom) in the premiere the same thing became true for our villain. Dimmond and Will bear VERY similar features and though Dimmond had never met Will, his face alone is a constant reminder that he needs Will just the same as Will needs Hannibal. The two of them will wander the cosmos forever, killing with intent or accidentally, until they find one another. 

Hannibal, Season 3 Episode 1: Antipasto

Tucker Johnson's look into the series Hannibal continues with the start of season 3. Join him for a new season of disgusting wonder: 

When Hannibal first began in 2013, I honestly wasn't sure what to think. What I saw was a beautifully shot but formulaic monster of the week version of the Hannibal 'legend'. Luckily there was quite a lot more going on under Hannibal's skin and it didn't take long for me to realize that creator Bryan Fuller had a plan. Rather than pull a Game of Thrones and do a full service adaptation of the Thomas Harris novels that the titular character arose from, he instead decided to pull influences sporadically and create a world of pastiche that is far more interesting and appetizing than Harris, Jonathan Demme, Ridley Scott, Brett Ratner, or Peter Webber could ever hope to achieve. Only Michael Mann's Manhunter rivals this series for pure style but in a completely different way.

Arriving in the third season of Hannibal is like arriving in what I can only perceive were the most fragmented imaginings of Thomas Harris while he was dreaming up the novel Hannibal. We find ourselves subject to the gorgeous visuals that this series has made its name on, only aided by the fact that they are now shooting on location in Florence, Italy. The city lends itself well to the sometimes dream, sometimes nightmare that is Hannibal's time on the run from the FBI. In recent memory it's hard to think of another show that plays with time in such a way that viewers have absolutely no idea where or when they are throughout the episode yet can't ever bring themselves to let it bother them. Fuller approaches the story with the audience's apparent lack of concern with small details in mind. Last season ended with a series of escalating cliffhangers and it's almost laughable how little he deals with any of them in the first forty eight some-odd minutes of this season. In fact, we learn nothing of the fates of any characters that were at risk and instead spend the entire episode with either complete strangers to the series or with Hannibal (Mads Mikkelsen) and his former psychiatrist, Bedelia du Maurier (Gillian Anderson), the only two characters we knew to be alive at the end of last year's finale. And it doesn't matter one bit. Almost immediately this trip through Europe becomes more engrossing than almost anything this series has attempted before it and that's saying something.

I'm not quite sure how but Hannibal actually manages to achieve something that I feel the films were rarely able to achieve save for perhaps Demme's Silence of the Lambs and that is terror. But Fuller's series manages to bring on a fear far unlike anything the name Hannibal has ever been able to inspire before. The fear doesn't reside in the killings. Quite the opposite actually. The death, the gore, the corpses, all are absolutely gorgeous. As gorgeous as James Hawkinson's cinematography which I still argue rivals even Game of Thrones on its best day. No, the terror resides in Hannibal's manipulative psychology. Like the psychopaths in Michael Haneke's Funny Games, Hannibal's power seems to stem from the fact that he's in control. Always. That horrifying notion of is strengthened almost subconsciously when the editing of the episode takes of forwards and backward through time, completely out of the audiences understanding or control. Yet each time we're served up the same situation. A character we know, good or bad, is in front of Hannibal with a strong disadvantage. It is revealed that Bedelia had a patient die in her office and Hannibal appears as her salvation. And inversely, Dr. Abel Gideon (Eddie Izzard) has himself for dinner as Hannibal, playing chef, serves him his own leg slow cooked and falling off the femur.

Bedelia has an incredible line somewhere around the midpoint of the episode. She utters "You no longer have ethical concerns, Hannibal. Only aesthetical ones." No truer words were ever spoken about this series. It seems to have taken this episode to make it clear that Hannibal has been a dream since the beginning, disguised as a police drama with a little flair. But in a world where a frail old man can build a twenty foot tall totem pole out of human corpses without any help why on earth should we expect the writers to care one bit about the audience's suspension of disbelief. You either buy into the aesthetic or you change the channel. And after the first 48 minutes of this season, I'm certainly pleased I didn't change the channel.

Tim Earle's Episodes You Should Have Seen in Twenty Fourteen

Reviewing TV pilots is, in some ways, a lot like evaluating a baby. It doesn't matter if he'll grow up to be Neil deGrasse Tyson, for now he's a drooling idiot who keeps trying to eat his own vomit. Pilots are often the worst episode of a show. On the other hand, sometimes a pilot is all a show has to offer and after the first episode the show just circles the drain. So I want to talk about episodes that were really damn good in 2014 that weren't pilots. Here's my list, in no particular order. 


The Legend of Korra - "Ultimatum"

"As long as I'm breathing, it's not over."

Avatar: The Last Airbender was one of the more important kids shows of the last decade. It handled adult themes in a way that was kid friendly and yet in no way watered down. The Legend of Korra is an excellent companion piece to Avatar, but for a slightly older generation. And yet it has been shat upon by Nickelodeon, its third season getting released with no marketing, then pulled from air halfway through its run, available only via streaming on the Nick website. And it's a shame because the third season of The Legend of Korra is the best by far. The fourth and final season, airing currently, is not bad but pales in comparison. "Ultimatum" is a perfect specimen of what Korra does best. It's mostly fun and fast paced, and yet complex, highly political events underline every moment, every choice. On top of that, this episode has the best fight scenes I've seen on television ever, in my whole life. They are beautifully animated, amazingly choreographed and staged. The represent everything that animation can bring to the table with martial arts and they do so without ever forgetting about the stakes that underpin the action. I'm happy to be able to suggest many high caliber kid's shows (Adventure Time, Over the Garden Wall, Bravest Warriors) that parents can watch as well. But The Legend of Korra is the only kid's show this year that is constructing a cohesive lesson on how to view world politics. Also, girl power. So much girl power.

The Good Wife - "Last Call"

"What does it mean if there is no god? How is that any better?"

"It's not better. It's just truer." 

Speaking of girl power and politics... The Good Wife! There's nothing quite as shocking as killing a main character in a TV show. Since it is such an easy way to drum up emotion and pathos, it is frequently misused as a cheap trick to cover up poor character growth or to mine some drama out of an actor's contract dispute. Despite being a personal top ten drama for the last four years, this year, The Good Wife decided to kill off a main character for all the wrong reasons. And yet, from the ashes of this bad decision, the writers for The Good Wife created an hour of unwavering emotional free fall, the likes of which I have not seen since Buffy The Vampire Slayer ("The Body"). What is most fascinating about "The Last Call" is that there is a very serious discussion of atheism plopped down in the middle of what is otherwise a very focused story about discovering the meaning of a dead man's last voicemail. I find that atheism is often misrepresented in TV if represented at all. Atheists in media are always either acerbic intellectuals or nihilists. Rarely do you see a woman with a family, and a job that has nothing to do with science, who simply does not believe. There is no reason, no psychological framework, for her atheism. She just has no faith. And after decades of shows dealing with matters of faith, it's nice to see the other side represented with the same emotional care.

The Americans - "New Car"

"It's nicer here, yes. It's easier. It's not better."

And speaking of struggles with atheism... The Americans! I've started pitching The Americans to people as "Mad Men with a plot." I don't mean to disparage Mad Men. Sometimes finely crafted wandering is enjoyable. But every now and then, it's nice to see a little story between all that symbolism and critique. And story is where The Americans is king. Each season is a mile-a-minute spy thriller, loaded with heaping doses of critique and satire. What stands out about "New Car" is just how many themes it juggles. American commercialism, patriotism, the futility of vengeance, all culminating with the tearful breakdown of a child who was caught sneaking into the neighbor's house to play video games. And it's moment's like this, where the stakes are relatively low and the setting is intimate that the show strikes its hardest. Because no battle, no global event will ever hit as close to home as... well... home. 

Game of Thrones - "The Mountain and the Viper"

"People die at their dinner tables. They die in their beds. They die squatting over their chamber pots. Everybody dies sooner or later."

And speaking of the futility of vengeance... Game of Thrones! Where everybody dies and nothing has any meaning. This episode is Game of Thrones at its finest. The fight has edge-of-your-seat tension, breathtaking choreography and nightmare-inducing special effects. The writing is crisp, the meanings layered. And while it ends with a woman shrieking in horror, it also features one of the show's most triumphant moments. Sansa Stark, after seasons of nonstop torture, emerges from the castle, clad in black feathers, powerful, magnificent. It won't last, because nothing ever does. But for a moment, Game of Thrones has given us the kind of triumph you can't manufacture with all the special effects in the world. It is the triumph you earn. The victory you claim by passing through the flames.

Rick and Morty - "Rixty Minutes"

"Nobody exists on purpose. Nobody belongs anywhere. Everybody's going to die. Come watch TV."

And speaking of everybody dying and nothing having any meaning... Rick and Morty! This is the funniest half hour produced in 2014, without a doubt. No contest. It takes what is essentially a throwaway sitcom B plot and turns it into a mission statement. And it couldn't have come at a better time. 2014 was a decidedly unfunny year. Robin Williams passed away, Bill Cosby probably raped a lot of women. It was hard to find new things to laugh at without feeling bad about yourself. But not Rick and Morty. Rick and Morty laughed at all the bad stuff and said, "Not only is it OK to laugh, it is the only thing you can do." Not since Douglas Adams has a show mined this much humor out of destroying all life on earth. And I can't think of a time in the history of television when nihilism has kept a family together. Life sucks, I know. Wubalubadubdub! 

True Detective - "Who Goes There"

"Enough with the self-improvement-penance-hand-wringing shit. Let's go to work."

And speaking of nihilism... True Detective! I think I loved True Detective a lot less than everyone else. It's on my top ten list, so obviously I loved it, just not as much as the guy sitting next to me. The main complaint I have with the season is that it isn't as profound as it pretends to be. But not being profound is not a bad thing. If you aren't telling us a story about life, but instead just telling us a story about two guys and a case, it frees you up in a lot of ways. So, why do I love this episode so much? Rust says it all when he says, "Let's go to work." This is the finest hour of True Detective. There is no pontificating, no discussions of emotional turmoil. Instead, Rust and Marty go off book and get into some serious shit. And boy is it thrilling. Everyone and their mother knows about the six-minute continuous take, but what is more interesting to me is the six minutes of no scripted dialogue in what is otherwise such a talky show. It is just action, tension, spectacle, and dread. And in the end, what makes "Who Goes There" such a good episode of television is that all that talk of "touching evil" is just talk. Finally, here, we see the lengths Rust is willing to go to for the truth, for his obsession. It is hypnotizing and deeply troubling. 

Hannibal - "Tome-wan"

"Whenever feasible, one should always try to eat the rude."

And speaking of hypnotizing and deeply troubling... Hannibal! I honestly cannot get over how beautiful this show is. It is unthinkably pretty. And it has the greatest score on television - all sloshing water and bending pipes with the occasional brush of piano strings, haunting and murky. Season one of Hannibal was a descent into madness, while season two is a game of cat and mouse between Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter. Of course, you're not ever sure who is the cat. Unfortunately, the season finale wraps up this battle of wills in a very stupid and clunky way, but right before the final episode came "Tome-wan," a moment of stillness and camaraderie between Will and Hannibal before it ends. Hannibal is very much like an epic poem of old, prone to hyperbole and meandering philosophical musings, filled with heroes, gods, and the Devil himself. But like all good epic poems, it makes a world of strange beauty that you cannot help but tumble into.

Fargo - "A Fox, A Cabbage, And a Cage"

"I'd call it animal except animals only kill for food."

And speaking of the Devil... Fargo! Fargo could have easily wound up the ugly stepchild of one of the greatest movies ever made, but instead it treated its pedigree as a challenge and rose to the occasion, becoming one of the greatest miniseries of all time and my favorite show of 2014. How it does this is honestly beyond me. The twists and turns, the humor and horror, all make a little clockwork universe too complex and tightly wound for me to ever really wrap my head around. At first I thought it was impressive that Noah Hawley wrote every episode, but after watching the whole season, I can say that no committee could have ever made that show. It is a singular creative vision, and it is a bold one. Though I can't ignore the fact that Noah Hawley had help from some of the year's most brilliant performances. Allison Tolman is a gem, Joey King is possibly the best child actor out there right now, and Martin Freeman deconstructs everything that has made him lovable in a long career of being lovable. Eventually, Martin becomes a villain so malevolent he dwarfs even Billy Bob, who is the actual Devil.

The reason I chose Fargo's penultimate episode is, like the show's very inception, it takes what seems like a bad idea on paper, and makes it brilliant in actualization. Shows rarely come back from inserting a "one year later" in the middle of a season. Hell, most shows rarely come back from inserting anything more than a summer break. But Fargo does exactly that. It skips ahead a year. Lots of things change, cases close, people move on, and more importantly, the Devil is now a dentist. Turning your biblically evil bad guy into a dentist may be the single greatest story decisions I've ever seen in television. And the Billy Bob really commits to his character reassignment, constructing a new look, a new demeanor, and a new catchphrase. Aces!

The Honourable Woman - "The Paring Knife"

"Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that in a room full of pussies, I'm the only one with a vagina."

Speaking of a miniseries with a single bold creative vision... The Honourable Woman! Hugo Blick's strange, dreamy, chronologically-impaired spy thriller. This show, despite having star power from Maggie Gyllenhaal, managed to slip right under the pop culture radar, which surprises me since it is very similar to True Detective. One mysterious (spy thriller instead of serial murder), two complicated leads (women instead of men), lots of philosophical musing (about politics instead of nihilism), and the same writer and director for every episode (except in this case Hugo Blick is both the writer and the director). Just take a moment to appreciate this accomplishment: a single man directed and wrote what is basically a six-hour film. The show is about an investigation into the very strange life of Nessa Stien (Gyllenhaal) as she tries, in her own way, to bring peace to Israel and Palestine. It's an unwavering parable, and over time Nessa becomes less and less a character and more and more the embodiment of naivety and goodness. So, predictably, she is quite thoroughly punished. The show manages to discuss politics without ever becoming condescending or preachy. It makes some rather bold assertions, not all of which I agree with, but all well thought out. The reason I chose "The Paring Knife" is because it is the final episode, so to see it, you must have watched every episode preceding it. Unlike Fargo or True Detective, the show does not have peaks and valleys, higher and lower quality episodes. The Honourable Woman is a straight shot, a rocket to the finish line. It's a new and fascinating way to make a show.


Last Week Tonight With John Oliver - "Episode 18"

"Currently, the biggest scholarship program exclusively for women in America requires you to be unmarried with a mint condition uterus and also rewards working knowledge of buttock adhesive technology."

Speaking of bold political assertions... Last Week Tonight! This show seemed, at first to be a knock-off Daily Show but missing the daily aspect. Of course, what seemed at first a disadvantage wound up being far from it. Giving John Oliver and his team a week to fully investigate every story meant that Last Week Tonight could do some honest investigative journalism into subjects not usually considered newsworthy - but very much lampoon-worthy. I respect what Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert are doing, but they are mostly just sitting on the sidelines making fun of bad journalists. Meanwhile, John Oliver is actually in the game, reporting on real issues that no one seems to care about but everyone should. Interestingly enough, the episode I picked criticizes the US embargo of Cuba which wound up being rather prescient as Obama is now discussing lifting that embargo.

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So there you have it people - my favorite episodes in a banner year for good episodes. Strangely, while writing this I discovered an interesting theme that connects all these shows. It seems 2014 was the year for finding solace in hopelessness. And now that I understand this, it's not so strange that Rustin Cohle took over the internet with his cool disaffected nihilism. This was the year in which the end was nigh and everyone just shrugged and made another beer can sculpture.

The Simple Art of Codependency - Hannibal Season 2

The finale of this season of Hannibal isn’t titled “Imago” because it wouldn't have fit the season’s theme of Japanese food preparation. However, about halfway through the season’s final episode, two characters let us know why it would have made a perfect alternate title. For those who don’t already know it’s the final form of an insect’s transformation from larva to adult and bringing it up anywhere in the second season would have been appropriate. The fact that the Bryan Fuller and his team of writers decided to keep this conversation close to the chest until the finale was a great idea though. It packed far more of a wallop when it arrived because Hannibal allowed itself to change this season. It stopped being a series that followed a case of the week formula (albeit a more gruesome take on the recipe than any on record) and only allowed itself a thin overarching season plot. I can’t stand television like this but Hannibal did it so well that it became a tolerable formula. From week to week the show presented its viewers with a ballet of blood that turned murder into a legitimate art form in every way that shows like Dexter, which frankly can go fuck itself, managed to fail at. But by changing the formula that the series' fans had come to know and love, season 2 of Hannibal knocked our expectations of the show on their ear. The show slowed waaaaaay down. No more was it merely a killer of the week kind of show. Hannibal tried for a new kind of horror. It took Will Graham (Hugh Dancy) who we’d all begun to rely on as an infallible source of true justice and has him switch sides with Hannibal Lecter (Mads Mikkelsen). The pair begin taking pages out of each other’s books and the result is a season that shows us what can happen when two men who are each incredibly dangerous in their own way begin to allow the boundaries between them to blur. 

Hannibal got itself famous (at least with critics) for being one of the most beautifully shot and beautifully violent (again, just with critics) series to ever grace the small screen. The fact that it lives on NBC is a mystery to rival the Tunguska event. I watched the series after having seen all but the latest Hannibal film (Hannibal Rising) and enjoying all of them despite Brett Ratner’s horrific track record as a filmmaker - Red Dragon is by far his best film - and the pure awfulness of the series’ final chronological installment, 2001's Hannibal, which is up there with Ridley Scott’s worst films. It got me wondering why none of the films, with the exception of Hannibal, ever attempted anything as inventive as the visual style that the TV series has made its bread and butter. Director of Photography John Mathieson uses the already gorgeous palette provided by Florence, Italy to help Scott's Hannibal take on new life as a thing of visual beauty. Hannibal’s series cinematographer James Hawkinson seems to have taken brief inspiration from Mathieson before going off on a wild quest to create a show that would rival even Game of Thones in how painfully beautiful it was to look at.  

That visual style really ends up being the only thing about Hannibal’s second season that resembles its first. The plotlines this time around have felt more like Lecter himself was listening to music and painting to the tempo. It began at a fairly rapid clip with familiar faces dropping like flies but as it carried on it began to slow down and spend a lot of its time meditating on Will and Hannibal’s relationship. Hannibal tries as hard as he can to drag Will down (or up?) to his level and become a killer while Will resists. We, of course, begin to see cracks, sometimes big ones, in Will’s defense and we begin to genuinely fear for him in a way we never had to in season one. We now have to fear for his very soul.

This season also manages to invert the previous season’ structure by making Will a reliable narrator once again. When we first met Will in season one he was a good but troubled cop who was beginning to unravel by the end of the pilot. We had to watch over the subsequent twelve episodes as Will came completely apart at the seams due to his time in therapy with Hannibal Lecter. But after last season’s left field (though not unwelcome) finale, we got to watch Will rebuild himself back into someone who’s both sane and very dangerous to those who continue to walk the earth doing evil. He becomes the only person with enough mental capacity to outsmart Hannibal but because the writers never make it easy on him we really never know how it’s going to go down. This matching of wits may actually be why the writers decided to make Hannibal and Will some kind of genius sadistic team in the season’s latter half and pit (sorry for the incoming pun) them against Mason Verger (Michael Pitt) whose appearance represents both a wonderful callback to Gary Oldman’s stellar performance but also a unique source of total fear. Mason is a dangerous foe and even though lovers of the film series know his fate we still aren’t quite sure if the tv version is going to take the same road to get there so all our favorite characters are suddenly in harm's way.

Watching the season back in a rapid fire fashion results in some very thrilling television. Apart from a court room drama episode (the season’s low point for sure) the first half of the season moves incredibly quickly and the framing device presented in the premiere’s opening minutes keeps you aching to get back to it at the end of the season. Hannibal plays a much larger role this season than he did before. He gets his hands far more dirty and doesn’t just come off as some kind of god that the law abiding characters of the series waste their efforts trying to stop. Instead we see Hannibal as a fallen angel who's so enamored with humanity that he allows others to see a very human side of him and even though he rarely makes a mistake, he’s a much more sympathetic monster than we got in the first season and it makes it that much more interesting when Will finally goes toe-to-toe with him. The odds are finally evened up. Fuller and his writing staff have established that they like their creative liberties, which means the stakes are quite high.

Hannibal’s second season allowed itself a lot of creative license and I applaud them for doing so. The show pulled back on its gruesome nature but it traded a gimmick for far better long form storytelling. Not to beat a dead horse but I can’t believe this show ran on NBC. It’s astounding when you think about the kinds of themes this season focused on and how many times it made its viewers stare into the heart of human darkness and didn’t let them look away when it opened its eyes and stared back. The second season is the series’ imago; its final transformation. I have no fear for the third season but it became clear while watching the finale that the writers were prepared to throw in the towel. The series was renewed but extremely late in this season’s run and the finale’s final moments are certainly geared toward the idea that they could have been the shows last. I await it excitedly but I think Hannibal will be forced to reinvent itself again in order to keep becoming the best thing it can be.