Distributor: Lionsgate
Release Date: September 16, 2014
MSRP: $39.97
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Film: A- / Video: A / Audio: A- / Extras: B
Television works on a power model inverse to that of film. Setting aside producers and suits, writers are all-powerful, followed by actors who can make judgment calls about their characters, then the DPs and directors who are guns for hire, capable of being overridden by just about any regular crew member. As such, the conversation about TV’s touted superiority to cinema almost always ignores questions of the format’s visual limitations, or, worse, mistakes the proliferation of high-quality digital cameras across film and TV as an evening agent that erases the distinction between the two.
Hannibal, like the other shows that do bother to have a distinctive visual stamp, is itself limited by its set aesthetic, in that no director has yet shaken up its core look. But that look is so unabashedly tacky in a field where even genre television has wrapped itself in prestige that the show may actually edge closer to film than anything else on TV right now, save for the short-film format of Louie. Bryan Fuller takes for the show’s forbears cheap but inventive noir and horror, whose respective tropes of obscuring shadow and overshared gore combine into a series that manages to be coy enough to fit within network broadcast standards while being so grisly that it never ceases to be a miracle that NBC airs it.
Even so, the nastiness that pervaded the series’ first season does not quite inform its follow-up. Though the basic “Serial Killer of the Week” narrative format remains in place, the focus this season is less about solving these ornate crimes than in continuing to probe the warped relationship between cannibal psychiatrist Hannibal Lecter (Mads Mikkelsen) and preternaturally gifted FBI analyst Will Graham (Hugh Dancy), whom Hannibal framed for his crimes at the end of the previous season. The finale’s bizarre-universe last shot, of a free Hannibal visiting a bound and imprisoned Will, sets the tone for these next 13 episodes, which buck the usual, ratings-conscious arc structures to deal with Will’s incarceration and his knowledge of Hannibal’s guilt directly, dragging other characters into this well before most shows would let them even suspect something was afoot.
Interestingly, the lack of stretching out the question of Will’s freedom, or of anyone believing his story, only lets the series more precisely dig into its moods of fury and despair. The first season put Will through a ringer, even inflaming his brain to add to the stress of his empathetic powers. Here, however, he’s clear-headed, albeit distrusted, and not even the sights of a lobotomized, eyeless victim or a woman sewn into a horse’s womb stun and repulse half as much as the looks of suspicion and demeaning pity in Jack’s (Laurence Fishburne) or Alana’s (Caroline Dhavernas) faces as they regard Will, even after his innocence is proved. And above all else, the season hinges upon Hannibal’s own conflicted actions, weighed between self-preservation and the genuine concern he feels for Will, perhaps the first time in his life he’s ever felt that way toward something. That doesn’t mean Hannibal’s controlling, manipulative atmosphere doesn’t manifest even in his attempts to “help,” but Mikkelsen’s drained, obviously evil performance from the previous season somehow managed to cool even further and show off Hannibal’s (relatively) softer side.
For a show nominally about psychological breakdown, Hannibal excels at dealing with its subject in the pulpiest, flimsiest terms possible. Its clinical tone may be more Manhunter than Silence of the Lambs, but the show bucks Mann’s deep-research base for pure madness. Dancy no longer has to play the seizure-ridden walking tragedy, but even in more subdued mode, he hums with guilt, fear, and mounting rage. Michael Pitt fills the theatrical void as the pedophilic sadist Mason Verger with a high-pitched voice not unlike Heath Ledger’s Joker and an open delight in the immunity his wealth and station provides. Mason’s entrance shakes up the glacial tone of most of the season while never supplanting the frosty relations between the leads.
As ever, all of this is filmed with a low-rent panache that never avoids the time and budget constraints of TV production but instead makes the most of it. Ergo, a staged car crash is not filmed in eroticized detail but largely elided from an inevitable impact to an artfully staged post-collision shot, and Mason’s inflicted horrors are usually restricted to elegantly animated shots of a paper with absorbed tears dropping in slow-motion into a martini. An extension of the kind of obsessive, grim procedurals that have made CBS’ bread and butter for more than a decade now, Hannibal nonetheless surpasses them for its formal bravado and focus. Nearly all of the most acclaimed contemporary programs are genre shows; Hannibal is the only one that seems to be at peace with that.
A/V
As one of the best-looking shows on TV, Hannibal unsurprisingly gets a robust transfer from Lionsgate. The muted color palettes, perverse close-ups and dim lighting are all flawlessly preserved, with a total lack of crush in the many dark scenes and florid detail on the rare occasion something colorful enters the frame. Sound is also strong, with Brian Reitzell’s profoundly unsettling score perhaps a bit too enveloping and dialogue never muffled by the show’s disorienting sound design.
Extras
Lionsgate’s set comes with audio commentaries for most of the episodes, in which Bryan Fuller appears with various cast and crew members to discuss episode production, anecdotes, etc. There are also a collection of featurettes: “The Style of a Killer” details the costuming decisions on the show, “Bodies of Lies” explores the use of prosthetics in crafting the show’s victims, and “Killer Intentions” provides a general overview of the season, especially as it relates to adapting and moving away from the Thomas Harris novels. An 80-minute documentary, “This Is My Design,” goes deeper on the sheer effort it takes to put on the show, breaking down the process of crafting the season’s fifth episode from conceptualization through post-production. We also get “Post Mortem with Scott Thompson,” a series of webisodes in which the actor, who plays wisecracking coroner Jimmy Price, conducts charming interviews with other crew members. Finally, the set comes with a few deleted scenes and a brief gag reel.
Overall
The most entertaining show currently on TV gets a fine release from Lionsgate Entertainment. It would be nice, however, if these sets came with a “resume playing” option instead of making viewers sit through all opening logos and anti-piracy ads over and over, and forcing viewers who don’t set a bookmark before stopping to fast-forward to where they were.