Hannibal

HANNIBAL

Rating: F

Ya know, often on this website I'll say things like, "I want my money back" to voice my displeasure with a particular film. Usually, it's half tongue-in-cheek, but in this case I really, really feel as though I've been ripped off. This movie is so wretched, it gives me fond memories of Battlefield Earth by comparison. I just wish someone had warned me away from this film before I wasted my time and money on it. And I know people will inevitably say the film is not meant to be taken seriously, and that I didn't get the joke, and so on. Spare me.

Let's cut to the chase, shall we? If you enjoy watching a man have his skull opened up while he's still alive, and a piece of his brain cut out, fried, and fed to him, then this movie's for you. If, however, you're a human being, your IQ lies somewhere north of 70, and you recognize garbage masquerading as "art" when you see it, you'll be wise not to plunk down your hard-earned money to watch someone vomit on film. You'll also be spared the torture of trying to keep from laughing hysterically at the ludicrous plot in all the "serious" parts.

Mass murderer Hannibal Lecter (from Silence of the Lambs if you've been in a cave) is back again, and Clarice the FBI agent is back on his trail. Anthony Hopkins, to his eternal discredit, reprises the role of Hannibal, while Julianne Moore plays Clarice this time around. Apparently Jodie Foster refused to be any part of this project, which suddenly makes me respect her a whole lot more. Along the way we're introduced to one of Hannibal's victims who survived, but who's now horribly disfigured and wheelchair bound (Gary Oldman, completely unrecognizable under five pounds of fake rubbery makeup). Oldman, it seems, has a plan for revenge of capturing Hannibal and feeding him to wild boars. I swear I'm not making this up. The saddest part is the boars are the smartest characters in the movie.

Director Ridley Scott seems to have thrown up his hands at trying to establish any kind of suspense or style in this film, and makes the rookie mistake of equating blood and gore with scary. In the process, he forces a reappraisal of his talents as a director. Sure, he's made turkeys such as GI Jane and White Squall in the past, but he also directed Alien, Blade Runner, and Legend, all three of which revealed a stunning finesse with visual imagery, if nothing else. It's hard to believe he's capable of such a complete failure as Hannibal. Apparently, he never heard of sleazy exploitation films such as 2,000 Maniacs or The Wizard of Gore, or he would have realized over-the-top gore has been done before many times, and the films elicit derisive laughs at their stupidity more than chills.

In the final scene, Hopkins' arm is in a sling, a remnant from his chopping off his hand with a meat cleaver to free himself when Moore handcuffed herself to him. We're supposed to feel admiration (I guess) for his sacrificing his own hand rather than injuring Moore. Instead, we're amazed that any supposed "genius" medical doctor wouldn't think to use the cleaver to simply cut the chain. Al Einstein, he's not. As he escapes to who-knows-where aboard an airplane (don't bother giving me that "spoiler" crap - you can't spoil a movie that's already rotten), he feeds the cute child sitting next to him some of the human brain he's brought along for the trip. If this scene elicits any reaction from you other than repugnance, you need to seriously consider consulting a psychiatrist. Myself, after seeing this film, all I want to do is take a long hot shower to wash the dirt away.